Seems obvious enough. Maybe my finger joints wouldn’t be so stiff that I’m starting to lose the grip on my toothbrush. Or toilet paper. Maybe my shoulder wouldn’t be throbbing from using my cane with my weaker arm.
I could go on…
Oh ya. Maybe because my lumbar region currently feels like it did only a few days post- the apocalyptic “fuck-you” from L3 to S1.
Physio-terror-py is agonizingly slow. Why? Because, apparently, the wee little membranes of two of the three herniations (the last one is actually ruptured) is so fragile at this point…doing more will only regress me back to the day my back stood still.
She keeps referring to a jelly doughnut.
I want to eat a jelly doughnut. *shrug*
So? I go, I get a heat pad, she opens my spine (thus pinching it closed on the underside in the hopes of manipulating the disc back into place), I do the one exercise I’ve been given (think “Cobra” in yoga, but in a “C” sort of position), she shoves her elbow up onto my right butt muscle, get a heat pack, pay $60, go home.
This sorry dude is not me. This IS, however, the L5-S1 herniation that I have. If you start at the bottom of the photo, it’s the third “disc” up. It’s darker. Well, ‘cept mine’s also an oozing jelly doughnut. *shrug* It’s busted. Apparently.
You must also picture this dandy happening at the two discs ABOVE this one as well..
Oh yes! Add to the “slow as a thundering herd of turtles” physio-terror-py is the fact that I still have “neurological impairments”…due to the nerve damage still experienced in my right leg. *I* think it’s much better…feels stronger…feels much more “muchier”…but alas, I still have weakened reflexes that concern her in the “moving of this shit forward” regard. I’m not quite sure of why the medical term to use “neurological”, but whatever…at this point I’m exceedingly frustrated.
Massage? Nope. Not for another week or two. Why not? Because massage will relax the musculature that she is trying to stabilize in order for her manipulations of my spine to remain solid. Frabjous.
I cannot express the level to which I am experiencing depression at this current point in time. Why? Because I still have to function. The chaos of my reality so dictates. I’m currently investigating therapists.
Did I mention? I’m also planning the ceremony to our wedding in LESS. THAN. FOUR. MONTHS.
How would you manipulate your time? How would you prioritize your own life to account for a EXTRA, often disabling, condition…such as accident, injury, etc. How would you get your house cleaned? How would you build up your esteem? How would you find the money to pay for the extras that might make you think you’ve at least some semblance of a quality of life?
How would you feel if you were faced with a possibility that you couldn’t dance at your wedding?
Being a Chronic Badass doesn’t put me on any goddamn pedestal.
Being a Chronic Badass means that in a week or two or few…I’ll have found alternative means to cope.
Welcome to Chronic Club…
It’s like Fight Club, only more badass.