True story from before I was this old, when I was about fifty.
So, I'm running a fire academy, and had a pretty bad respiratory infection. Coughed, and gave myself an inguinal hernia. Have to go to surgery.
Have the surgery, no lifting anything over twenty pounds for ten days, etc. We go to the metroplex for live fire training six days after the surgery.
One guy in the class is a full blown pussy, every time he gets a booboo, he's laying on the ground pissing and moaning.
We've made it through three days of training, and are on the last drill of the last day. I'm leaning on a railing, watching the last drill, about 3:30 PM, feeling like shit, and thinking, "all we have to do is finish this drill, and we can pack up and head home."
So, pussy boy and another guy are doing a rescue, and they're carrying a 165 pound dummy down an exterior stairwell. Pussy boy is on the bottom, trips, falls down about eight feet of concrete stairs and lands on his back with the rescue dummy and the other trainee on top of him.
I'm watching this, thinking, "get up, get up," and he goes, "Oh, my back!"
This tells you what a selfish SOB I am, cause the first thought that went through my head was, "Everything happens to me."
So, spinal immobilization, ambulance, metroplex hospital ER, which is like a combination of a minimum security prison and a line to get into a ZZ Top concert in 1978.
We're in there about two hours, and he tells me, "Chief, I think my back's okay. I think I can go."
"You shut up! You shut the hell up! You jumped on this log ride and we're taking it to the end!"
You know how an ER is. As soon as they figure out you're not dying, they ignore you for hours.
Finally got out about 2 AM and made it back home about 5 AM.
tl;dr: hernias suck.