He never waves when he goes by. He's hiding something from the rest of us.

I've been going to physical therapy for my back for the last several weeks. Recovery is slow, but the therapy seems to be helping. If I go a week or two without seeing someone, they usually comment on how much better I'm moving, so that's definitely a plus.

My physical therapist has me doing several different types of exercises. Some are exercises to strenghten my core. Some are stretches, designed to loosen up my back and stretch it out, but also to stretch my nerve past the scar tissue that's built up around it. One of the stretches requires me to place a loop around my foot and pull my leg straight to stretch out my hamstring. When I'm at physical therapy, he has a few pillowcases taped together to form a loop. When I'm doing them at home, he told me to just use a belt to do the same thing.

I usually go through all my exercises one last time before going to bed at night. Some I do on my bedroom floor, and others I do while lying on the bed. The hamstring stretches happen to be in the latter category. My bed sits underneath my window, so this is what my neighbors would see if they happened to look in from the street:





They probably think there's some kinky shit going on in my room.

Well you can't see the stars in the city no, though the hospital lights sure are pretty yeah

Nurse: Do you have diabetes?
Me: No.
Nurse: Any history of heart disease?
Me: No.
Nurse: Renal failure?
Me: No.
Nurse: Incontinence?
Me: No.
Nurse: Any new rashes?
Me: No.
Nurse: Vision problems?
Me: No.
Nurse: Are you on any medications? Blood thinners? Anti-inflammatories?
Me: Nope. None of those.
Nurse: Good.
Me: Wow. That list makes me sound like I'm a healthy person or something.
Nurse: You are healthy. That's good. Now all I have to do is put in the needle for your I.V. and we'll be ready to take you back.
Me: Sounds good.

Nurse: You have nice veins.
Me: Yeah, I get told that a lot.
Nurse: Are you afraid of needles?
Me: It's not my favorite thing in the world to get stuck by one, but I can handle it o.k. Although, let's just say I wouldn't make a very good junkie.

All things considered, I was very at ease with getting another epidural injection for my back. The only part that gave me pause was when I was wheeled into the room for the procedure only to hear my doctor and one of his technicians talking about playing Dungeons and Dragons. They didn't turn me into a Wood Elf or a Left Handed Axe Wielding Dwarf though. Plus, I can walk better than I have in weeks, and I can bend my leg and back further than I've been able to since November, so I'll consider it a success for now.

I can feel it burning up inside me

As I mentioned previously, I finally received an injection for my back. It feels a lot better, but it's still not perfect. The doctor said it can take up to a full week for the steroids to take full effect, but I'm already walking better than I've been able to for the past two months.

As they were preparing me for the procedure, the nurse asked if I had any questions about anything. I said that I did have one strange request. I wanted a picture of the needle in my back. She said that she thought they could give me one. They did.



The black line in the lower left corner is the needle. Awesome.

Highway to the danger zone

As part of my ongoing medical treatment for my back injury, I had to get another MRI done this week. This time the doctor wanted it done with contrast. That's where they take images before and after injecting a contrasting agent so they can look at scar tissue too. It should give the doctor a better idea of what we're dealing with here.

The best part about getting an MRI with contrast done? Being able to go around for the rest of the day saying, "I've got gadolinium running through my veins."

Tell me that doesn't make a guy sound tough.

Is this explosion gonna' set me reelin'?

Since I hurt my back, everyone's been treating me like a porcelain doll. This is probably due to my incessant whining and complaining about it, but still, I'm not that fragile.

The other day I was sitting in a chair with a hinged back. You know, the kind that lets you lean back even though all four legs are on the floor. I wanted to stretch my back out, so I leaned back as far as I could. It freaked one of my friends out because she was worried I was going to hurt myself.

Her: Don't do that.
Me: Don't do what? This?

Then I leaned back again.

Her: Oh. I didn't realize you were sitting in a chair like that. I thought you were leaning back on two legs.
Me: Oh, you mean like this?

Then I really did lean back on the chair.

Her: Don't DO that!
Me: What are you, my mother?
Her (assuming a karate stance): I will make you bleed mother fucker.

Yup. Just like Mom used to say.

If only I don't bend and break

I hurt my back over the Thanksgiving holiday. A few years ago I had back surgery to remove a portion of a herniated disc that was compressing my sciatic nerve, and it feels like I've re-aggravated the same part of the nerve. At first I was hoping it was something that would go away, but after a week with no improvements I went to see a doctor about it. The doctor said that he didn't think I'd herniated the disc again, but that I'd pulled a muscle, the inflammation of which was probably just pinching the nerve. He prescribed some steroids, an anti-inflammatory agent, a muscle relaxer and told me to take those and heat it for twenty minutes twice a day and to come back and see him in a week.

I took the pills as prescribed, but there were no real improvements over the past week. I had a follow up appointment scheduled with him on Thursday, but it got bad enough that I went back today. He was off, so I got a different doctor. She had a different opinion. She thinks that I've re-injured the same part of my back that I had surgery on before, and she sent me to get an MRI this afternoon. Luckily, I was able to get right in for an appointment.

While I was in the waiting room at the radiologist an elderly couple walked in. They were probably in their sixties, and the man was definitely having some trouble walking. As he limped through the office and into the bathroom I felt sorry for him. However, my empathy was short lived, narcissitic as I am, and I thought "I hope that's not me in thirty years."

Then the thought occurred to me: "Wait, that's me now."

Life sucks.

Great balls of fire

It may be time to think about giving up racquetball altogether if you end up getting hit by the ball four times in one game. Especially if two of those times the ball hits you square in the nuts.

I need someone to kiss it better. Any volunteers?

Go ahead and mess with me, you'll find out what'll hap'm

Over the weekend I got into it with a spiny desert plant.

I think I lost.