We Can't Rebuild Him
I'm running out of good joints, here.
My 1-millionth hospital visit since 2000 (I got balloons!) had a physical therapist from Walter Reed having me do all sorts of silly things with my right arm (like bend it) while she nodded at my reactions to pain. She determined I have some degeneration in the tendons in my inner elbow, which is why it hurts when I lift anything heavier than something just lighter than an Erin.
Didn't "do" anything to it -- it just started hurting a couple months ago, I told her. She asked what I do for hobbies, and I lied and told her I play guitar. (I haven't plugged my guitar in since 2007.) She's having me put a brace on my wrist (*sigh*...just when I've grown sick of wearing the one on my left hand for whatever hand issue I've got going on (MRI in two weeks!)) almost all the time, then wear an arm band pressure velcro thingy just above the elbow when I know I'm going to be doing some lifting. Which should otherwise be avoided.
So I'm slowly turning into an unarmed non-mechanized Robocop, or a Darth Vader without the force, as the military medical system covers all my appendages with metal-based black velcro bands. I could really use the force right about now, since it's near impossible to hold my computer mouse with the damn thing on.
But I'm also going to have three more treatments of some dexa-something steroid electrically osmosified into my elbow -- at the end of our session, the doc put a medicated pad about the size of a pringle on my elbow, then put another square pad on my wrist "for a ground", then hooked up little wires like a mini-car jumper attached to a battery. This is supposed to heal the tendons at a molecular level, but all it did was make me lightheaded and then give me the worst headache I've had in years.
Friends are starting to inquire if the reason I have all these aches and pains is that I just turned 40.
They are no longer friends.
My 1-millionth hospital visit since 2000 (I got balloons!) had a physical therapist from Walter Reed having me do all sorts of silly things with my right arm (like bend it) while she nodded at my reactions to pain. She determined I have some degeneration in the tendons in my inner elbow, which is why it hurts when I lift anything heavier than something just lighter than an Erin.
Didn't "do" anything to it -- it just started hurting a couple months ago, I told her. She asked what I do for hobbies, and I lied and told her I play guitar. (I haven't plugged my guitar in since 2007.) She's having me put a brace on my wrist (*sigh*...just when I've grown sick of wearing the one on my left hand for whatever hand issue I've got going on (MRI in two weeks!)) almost all the time, then wear an arm band pressure velcro thingy just above the elbow when I know I'm going to be doing some lifting. Which should otherwise be avoided.
So I'm slowly turning into an unarmed non-mechanized Robocop, or a Darth Vader without the force, as the military medical system covers all my appendages with metal-based black velcro bands. I could really use the force right about now, since it's near impossible to hold my computer mouse with the damn thing on.
But I'm also going to have three more treatments of some dexa-something steroid electrically osmosified into my elbow -- at the end of our session, the doc put a medicated pad about the size of a pringle on my elbow, then put another square pad on my wrist "for a ground", then hooked up little wires like a mini-car jumper attached to a battery. This is supposed to heal the tendons at a molecular level, but all it did was make me lightheaded and then give me the worst headache I've had in years.
Friends are starting to inquire if the reason I have all these aches and pains is that I just turned 40.
They are no longer friends.
posted by Dan at 8:39 PM
2 Comments:
And to think it all started in a certain bathroom stall at IU...
Well! Doesn't that phrase sound interesting out of context.
Post a Comment
<< Home