“Fuck. Can’t…move…arm. I’m dying.”
“Holy shit! I can’t feel my arm, I’m dying!”
“I’m scared, there are thorns inside my skin. My arm feels like it weighs 30 pounds.”
“Fuck!
All of the above are commonly uttered phrases by people, still groggy, waking up and experiencing Paresthesia, regularly known as “Pins and Needles”.
So, yes, and to use a medical term, WTF? Pins & Needles blow. What, I fall asleep awkwardly on my arm, then wake up, groggy and am forced to have a heart attack because I think I’m slowly dying limb by limb?
Thank you, Creator (or “God” if you’re insane) for this amazing sensation and condition of the human experience. I am only thankful throughout the, ahem 27 years of my life, I haven’t fallen asleep awkwardly on my “privates” (read: dick).
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4 comments:
Arturo Gatti dies, and your major gripe today is 'pins and needles'?
Dude- I've been all over the reaper 247365, and I'm a few hours late today and you're all over my balls?
Don't let the reaper drive us apart!
Sorry! I'm not trying to be a douche! This one just hit really close to home for me.
I hear you- the reaper is in overdrive- no worries.
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