Haven't posted for a while. Hell, have barely been online enough to check my email, monitor my descent into un-popular on Authonomy and order a couple of discounted DVDs on Amazon.
I can't believe I made it all the way past 40 without nary a glimpse into the masochistic world of back injuries.
Yup, that's right. After years of lugging 85-pound backpacks up 60% grades for the Forest Service and humping over-sized TV sets and awkward furniture in and out of more dive rentals than I can remember, I'm now the proud owner of a seriously fucked up lower back.
I'm more than a little irked at my chiropractor for waiting until now to say 'um, yeah maybe you need an MRI' rather than seven months ago when I still had insurance.
So on Monday I enter the murky world of workman's comp. And this is a work-related disease. I spent 8-12 hours a day sitting in a chair while contracted to Boeing and other companies in the area.
It's weird to think the most-perceived-as-lazy job has crippled me: a desk job.
And I have all the typical symptoms of a A) herniated disc, B) leaky disc, C) inflamed disc or D) all of the above. I have shooting pain, weakness in both legs, weird twinges and pain in my feet and outside of my legs, sharp sciatica-type pain inside my groin and now both thighs, a swollen, slushy feeling in my lower back, etc., etc.
So Monday, after a quick visit to the chiropractor, I throw myself on the mercy of the ER. I'm bringing something to read.