This pinched nerve I have is interfering with a lot of things that I do, including putting together this blog.
I am often in such discomfort that the last thing I want to do is type, so I haven't been around for a couple of days.
In the interim, I had an MRI, which is basically a torture chamber where photos are taken of your ailment, and when the doctor studies them, they can give him or her a better feel on what ails you and what can be done to make you better.
I thought I had had an MRI before, but I was told by the technician, based on what I told her, that I had not had one.
Little did I know what I was in for.
I should have known when she read me the riot act: "No moving, no swallowing, no unnecessary movement" during the procedure.
I came into the room, had to take off any metal on my person--watches, belt buckles, etc.--and then I put myself on this thin gurney-type device, all sprawled out.
I machine was put around my head to make sure I didn't move, and then I was pushed into the machine.
Happily, I don't have claustrophobia, because if I did, I would not have made it.
It was a closed MRI, as opposed to an open one, meaning that I was now in a pod-like structure where my nose was about three inches from its ceiling.
My arms were sprawled out to my sides, and boy, was it uncomfortable!
The pain was incredible. I know at one point, I yelled out, "Get me out of this thing, but the attendant basically talked me out of it.
I decided that this is something I had to do, so with the attendant telling me, "If I let you out of the machine, it's over!" I decided to stick it out.
What did I do to suppress the pain? I literally thought of nice things in my life, visualizing each one: my family, my wife, my daughter, things I like to eat (like hot dogs) ... anything to get my mind off of the pain.
I also tuned out whatever the attendant was saying to me, which wasn't the right thing to do. Her instructions were vital in getting me through this, but I couldn't listen to her screeching anymore.
Nor could I listen to the "relaxing" music they had on in the background. Sorry, Lionel Ritchie does not calm me down at all.
Finally, it was over, and yes, I hurt all over. My arm was really barking, but at least I got through it. The attendant told me that this wasn't going to be a group of the best "pictures" she had ever witnessed, but they would be good enough to help the doctor plan my path.
So, all the pain was worth it that morning.
But honestly, even if the medicine I am taking--an anti-inflammatory--typing has become a bit of a chore.
I have been back to work for over a week now--I worked six days last week--but I am far from 100 percent. I still ache all over, and many things--like shaving--are quite hard to do.
But I am coping, probably not getting any worse but not getting any better.
My doctor won't be in until next week, so I am going to have to wait for the results.
Woe is me, I guess.
I am going to try to create blog entries every day, but if I miss a day, you will know why.
Enough about my ailments.
I won't talk about this pinched nerve again unless there is a reason to, because I know it must bore the life out of you.
So onward and upward, even though I probably can't lift my arms or jump very far now.
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