Not tall enough for a Rockette (still)
You know, there's only so much you can do with a wall, a yardstick, and a pencil, if you don't have a level.
See, a few years back, I was in an automobile accident that totaled both my beloved Datsun and me. I was left with compression fractures of three vertebrae (T7-9). I was told by my doctor that one of the side effects would be that I'd be a little shorter.
Well, I knew what my approximate height was at the time of the accident. As I was curious about shrinkage, I asked my regular doctor to measure me on his handy scale with the measuring thingee. Well, it was broken.
When I was in grad school, I had to go to a rassafrackin' doc in a box. While there, I asked him to measure me on his handy scale with the measuring thingee. Well, according to it, I was over an inch taller than I previously thought. Obviously, it was broken.
My regular doctor retired a couple of years later and I got a new regular doctor. When I finally went into see him (I avoid doctors like the plague), I asked him to measure me on his handy scale with the measuring thingee. Well, it was (yes, you got it) broken.
What was this? A medical conspiracy of measurable proportions?
Anyway, today I took my mother for a fairly routine medical test (she's fine, thanks for asking). While in the medical place, I saw a handy scale with a measuring thingee. I asked a nurse if she could check out my height real quick ... if it's not broken.
Sure.
So I took off my shoes and did the deed.
I'm now officially a shade over 5' 2".
2 Comments:
*sniffle* Our baby's growin' up! ;)
Lurp.
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