Mickey Mantle allegedly said that if he'd known he was going to live so long, he would have taken better care of himself. Indeed. Most of my troubles this year so far can be traced directly to being sedentary and overweight and (as a result) diabetic.
First off, Melody and I were both unwell over the holidays, and this segued into general misery throughout January. In February, despite promising her that I was NOT going to drive down to Iowa City and retrieve her from her visit to the BF, I motored on down the freeways and US-218 the Sunday before Presidents' Day and did just that. On the way back, I felt some tension in my right calf, but nothing unusual - and then after I drove in to work Tuesday morning, something ripped in the calf. I gutted it out for the rest of the day and only called Urgent Care after I was done with the Arcana meeting. The triage nurse thought it sounded like a possible blood clot, so he sent me to the ER at Fairview Southdale, where I sat around for an hour or two before getting poked/prodded/X-rayed and finding out that it wasn't a clot but just torn muscles. They wrapped my leg to twice its normal size, issued me crutches, found a pair of 3X scrubs that barely fit over my butt, and sent me gimpin' on home.
I got over that after a few weeks of ice packs, ibuprofen and physical therapy, but a couple of weeks before Anime Detour started experiencing pain in my shoulder and upper left arm. Back to the doctor on Wednesday after AD (who had time before?) to find that I had tendonitis in my left shoulder. More ibuprofen, more ice packs, more PT. Plus, I managed to contract Legionnaire's disease or some such crud during the convention, and am only now shaking it with the help of generic dayquils, generous swigs of guaifenesin, and a ton of water. And of course sleep, beautiful sleep. I need to remember to get more sleep. You'd think I would have learned by now, but the evil habits of youth persist long pat the point where the body can keep up.