How I’m living

Two and a half weeks ago, I strained my groin. I think.

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I’ve tried to come up with a less inelegant way of saying that. Short of not saying it, though, I can’t. If you say you pulled a leg muscle, that doesn’t quite cover the scope of the injury. Pulling a hamstring, for instance, means you can’t run. “Pulling” anything sounds like a one-shot excess, something that heals pretty quickly. The groin I strained is in the same area where I got a hernia that had to be operated on last year. I don’t like mentioning “groin” because the word itself sounds like a church bell made out of slapstick ringing (groin…groin). I don’t like mentioning I have a groin injury because it’s not a sexy injury. When I was 21 I got mugged by 2 guys. I had contusions on my skull and my leg, a thumbprint on my neck for 3 days from where I got choked out, and my wrist was fractured. At least that’s a good, dramatic story. A strained groin sounds like something karma gives you to get back at you for that time in 10th grade you farted on the bus and blamed it on the quiet friendless kid in the seat in front of you.
No, I never did that. But I bet it made you think of a time you did something horrid. Continue reading