The running gag in Warner Bros. cartoons is that any product from Acme Corp. is far from the "acme" of its kind. Acme rockets are the Yugos of rocket science. Acme trebuchet? It slings the operator, not the stone, as poor Wile E. Coyote should realize by now. About the only things that do work, with unfortunate regularity, are Acme explosives.
My body is apparently an Acme product. You fix one thing, another fails.
I've had too many medical procedures and tests in the last few years. This week I endured a sleep study, with wires to every limb and EKG leads scattered all over my scalp. Two straps, one around my chest and one across my stomach. A wire and tape around my neck. Fun, fun, fun. Not as bad as the eye surgeries, and less invasive than the upcoming surgeries to fix tears and rips in various locations, but the sleep study was still miserable.
The paradox is that a sleep study leaves you sleepy.
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