When I was in college in that tiny little town in southwest Arkansas, I would sometimes get sick and go see a doctor. One of the few that I could afford was this guy in a small clinic on the other side of town. At the end of the session, he’d check off a preprinted diagnosis form and hand it to me with any prescription orders and send me to check out.
I got a sense that he was, in some way, a classic sort of country doctor, because the form had this one diagnosis that always caught my eye: failure to thrive. Of all the diagnoses on that form, that’s the one that made me chuckle. Of course, it’s a bad thing to have, but c’mon, that’s a great turn of phrase.
I kinda felt like, socially and economically, that definitely was my Twenties. Rough.
Follow-up to Set Back:
Good news. Doc says the MRI shows I have herniated disks. The stabbing knife in my mid-back is a big herniation, the kind where the disk is bulging out of its space between the vertebrae and pressing against the spinal cord. That’s pretty cool. And I have three smaller bulges in the vertebrae in my neck which are responsible for the numbness in my left shoulder. See, nerves exit the spine and move downward and outward diagonally, so it makes sense the stabbing knife below isn’t responsible for the numb shoulder above.
Just flummoxes me that both happened at the same time. The past month has provided me more than its share of soft tissue injuries. First, a tendon on my right knee got stretched while standing up from a kneel. Then, my lower back injury (a previously-herniated disk from years ago) flares up because of how I’m walking to compensate. And now…two other spots on my spine.
I gotta get back into physical therapy and get my life back into shape. Or something. Suffer. Fine. See if I care.
Working through some spine issues. I need a new backbone. Coming up on two weeks of backpain; feels like a crushed disk, pulled muscle, or whatever. Pinched nerve, left shoulder numb. Stabbed in the back feeling. So good. So right.
Laid down in an MRI tube this weekend; will know the results shortly. MRI machines are cool. Loud, so loud. Industrial rhythms and sucking liquid nitrogen pumps. Magnetic waves and radio transmitters keeping you warm. Foam earplugs. Clinic gown. Just lie still, Mr. Thomas. Don’t move.
Don’t move. Moving slowly when possible. Hobble, cane, chair. Good times. So good. So right.
Hope this gets fixed soon.