Bleargh

Went back to the doctor today, having finally admitted defeat, and much to my chagrin he was still not able to tell me what the hell is wrong with my leg. Turns out I probably didn't ever have a potassium deficiency, and the score of bananas I ate the other day didn't do much aside from two days of crippling gas that were the byproduct of such a rapid influx of fiber.

Unfortunately, the nurse who called me with my blood test results failed to mention that I actually had some sort of virus, because she was busy telling me that there was absolutely nothing wrong with me.

Coincidentally, I also seem to have a blood clot in my right leg, and that's likely to be what's causing the severe pain when I try to walk. Right now, it's just guesswork, but some tests that I'm having done this Wednesday will hopefully verify or refute the theory. Really, I welcome any identified problem that has a not-too-terrible solution. I'm just tired of not knowing what's wrong.

This post was supposed to have a whole lot more substance, but then it would've been a lot longer. To sum it up, though, a girl hit the handicapped button for me in the Humanities and Social Sciences building today. I said, "Whoa!" when the door opened in front of me, forcing me to scurry away. When I finished doing the math, I looked behind me and guess I thanked her, because she said, "You're welcome; I thought you'd need it."

It was nice, if awkward.