Speaking of backs, the sign below could have been found on my door the last couple of weeks. Unfortunately I ruptured a disc in my lower back and I was not my normal bubbly, laughing self (when you're under the influence of drugs they say you tend to exaggerate). I ruptured a disc and trapped a nerve all at the same time. Doesn't take a lot of talent as it turns out - nope just one wrong move and yikessss. I was in orbit. The pain was excruciating. It took quite a while to get me seen by a doctor and get me comfortable. I was thrilled when my doctor finally made the call - "lets knock her out". I was in no position to argue. I just needed R-E-L-E-I-F . The next day Tim was instructed to bring his precious little wife back to the doctors office where the course of treatment was discussed and implemented. Little did I know it would involve going to "torture" camp. That's another name for physical therapy. Therapy????
My idea of therapy involves a 1 hour message. Not theirs. No, theirs involves laying on ice packs and contorting your body in ways that you really wouldn't be able to do on a good day. A good day- ahhhhh yes I remember those. Anyway, my physical terrorists- I mean therapist - is a jovial guy. A little too jovial. OK- I've been in pain. Overly happy people are not your friends when you are in pain. Tim said if looks could kill - well my therapists would be long gone by now. Its been 2 weeks now and I am feeling much better but I am leaving the sign up just in case! No need to take any chances. I am learning not to drive when I have on the pain pack. It tends to cause wrecks when your pain electrode comes undone and shocks you all of the sudden.
I'm learning to sit with pillow support, to walk equally balanced on both feet and Lord knows - not to slump. Yep, no slumping allowed in this camp. I find myself dreaming of slumping. You know - just being a slouch---comfortable. But nooooooooooooooooooooo.... if I want to get better I must remain in the position of a Marine private. Oh, well Life is still good. Turns out that they are very interested in totally eradicating all my back pain. Nope - no short term fixes for these guys. We're talking total back recovery here. Now that I can cheer about.
My idea of therapy involves a 1 hour message. Not theirs. No, theirs involves laying on ice packs and contorting your body in ways that you really wouldn't be able to do on a good day. A good day- ahhhhh yes I remember those. Anyway, my physical terrorists- I mean therapist - is a jovial guy. A little too jovial. OK- I've been in pain. Overly happy people are not your friends when you are in pain. Tim said if looks could kill - well my therapists would be long gone by now. Its been 2 weeks now and I am feeling much better but I am leaving the sign up just in case! No need to take any chances. I am learning not to drive when I have on the pain pack. It tends to cause wrecks when your pain electrode comes undone and shocks you all of the sudden.
I'm learning to sit with pillow support, to walk equally balanced on both feet and Lord knows - not to slump. Yep, no slumping allowed in this camp. I find myself dreaming of slumping. You know - just being a slouch---comfortable. But nooooooooooooooooooooo.... if I want to get better I must remain in the position of a Marine private. Oh, well Life is still good. Turns out that they are very interested in totally eradicating all my back pain. Nope - no short term fixes for these guys. We're talking total back recovery here. Now that I can cheer about.
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