Pain
I’ve been having stabbing pains on my right shoulder blade since Thursday. I tried to ignore it initially but ended up OD’ing on Aleve, Advil and if it persists, Flanax which I brought back from Manila. It had been so bad during the weekend that there must have been an hour that I was in bed on fetal position weeping and with my sweetie rubbing biofreeze on my back.
This morning I called my chiropractor and got an appointment for 3PM. I rarely take mid-morning or mid-afternoon doctor appointments because I always end up missing it. I have too much work that yes, I have re-scheduled too many dentist and doctor appointments. This time though, the 3PM was just fine. I needed relief.
My chiropractor and I go back since 2004 when I got involved in a baseball related injury. I was on the treadmill during the World Series Finals and Derek Jeter was on bat. He swung the bat and there was a sharp ping when the bat hit the ball and everyone was breathless as the ball took a trajectory into the outfield. As everyone in the stadium watched in bated breath, I stopped my jog. But the treadmill didn’t so I ended up on my behind on the floor. That was how I met my doctor.
He is a cutie, half-Spanish, half-Jewish but very American. He is also a New York Mets fan so he and I are constantly teasing each other about baseball. Today the first thing he bragged was the Mets jersey hanging in one of his consultation rooms signed by David Wright to “the best chiropractor” in New York. Unfortunately, after so much flirting with him, he got married last year. Oh, well.
After examining my swollen right shoulder blade, he put me on a pulsing machine and placed some warming layers on my back and left me for 15 minutes to the music of Abba’s ‘Dancing Queen’. Just before the timer sounded, he was back in the room and making my neck twist and my pushing down my spine until it made cracking sounds that can be frightening. But I guess when I trust my doctor I just let him do what he must in the hope I wouldn’t feel the spasm on my back anymore. After getting a scolding about being a ‘fair-weather’ patient, he made me promise to return on Wednesday for a follow-up. My case is so bad that he would have made me come back tomorrow but since it is Passover and he is half-Jewish, he would have to be observing the holiday.
Home early and feeling the warmth of the biofreeze on my back, I continue to feel the persistent throbbing pain. I wish I could reach my back for some real rubbing. I can always make my boyfriend’s back and neck pains go away when I massage them so I think it is so totally unfair that I have to see a doctor to get some relief from mine.
I know I may sound like I whine a lot but yes, I do need to whine about this one. I have pain tolerance so small I would scream in pain if pricked with a needle. This one is major however, considering I have already taken six caplets of 220 mg Advil today and I am still in pain.
Boyfriend says I should stop thinking about it so the pain would go away. Just now he told me to stop writing about it, too. It's a mental thing, he states. So now he is also a doctor. OK, so I will now log off and take my French language book and relearn some useful phrases. That would be less painful.
This must be how it is to be getting old... pain starts to set in. Then what? Oh brother....
This morning I called my chiropractor and got an appointment for 3PM. I rarely take mid-morning or mid-afternoon doctor appointments because I always end up missing it. I have too much work that yes, I have re-scheduled too many dentist and doctor appointments. This time though, the 3PM was just fine. I needed relief.
My chiropractor and I go back since 2004 when I got involved in a baseball related injury. I was on the treadmill during the World Series Finals and Derek Jeter was on bat. He swung the bat and there was a sharp ping when the bat hit the ball and everyone was breathless as the ball took a trajectory into the outfield. As everyone in the stadium watched in bated breath, I stopped my jog. But the treadmill didn’t so I ended up on my behind on the floor. That was how I met my doctor.
He is a cutie, half-Spanish, half-Jewish but very American. He is also a New York Mets fan so he and I are constantly teasing each other about baseball. Today the first thing he bragged was the Mets jersey hanging in one of his consultation rooms signed by David Wright to “the best chiropractor” in New York. Unfortunately, after so much flirting with him, he got married last year. Oh, well.
After examining my swollen right shoulder blade, he put me on a pulsing machine and placed some warming layers on my back and left me for 15 minutes to the music of Abba’s ‘Dancing Queen’. Just before the timer sounded, he was back in the room and making my neck twist and my pushing down my spine until it made cracking sounds that can be frightening. But I guess when I trust my doctor I just let him do what he must in the hope I wouldn’t feel the spasm on my back anymore. After getting a scolding about being a ‘fair-weather’ patient, he made me promise to return on Wednesday for a follow-up. My case is so bad that he would have made me come back tomorrow but since it is Passover and he is half-Jewish, he would have to be observing the holiday.
Home early and feeling the warmth of the biofreeze on my back, I continue to feel the persistent throbbing pain. I wish I could reach my back for some real rubbing. I can always make my boyfriend’s back and neck pains go away when I massage them so I think it is so totally unfair that I have to see a doctor to get some relief from mine.
I know I may sound like I whine a lot but yes, I do need to whine about this one. I have pain tolerance so small I would scream in pain if pricked with a needle. This one is major however, considering I have already taken six caplets of 220 mg Advil today and I am still in pain.
Boyfriend says I should stop thinking about it so the pain would go away. Just now he told me to stop writing about it, too. It's a mental thing, he states. So now he is also a doctor. OK, so I will now log off and take my French language book and relearn some useful phrases. That would be less painful.
This must be how it is to be getting old... pain starts to set in. Then what? Oh brother....