November 24th, 2010 | Author: trancejen
This is another boring entry about my boring medical issues.
I just finished furiously wrestling with two pairs of pliers for forty minutes in an attempt to remove my nose ring without also removing my nose. I have a particularly thick ring and a particularly small nose, so this is more difficult than one would think.
The reason for the removal is that I have two MRIs and an X-ray today, and apparently if one leaves metal in one’s face during an MRI, bad things happen. Like hey, it’s the Human Picasso.
I’d rather not risk it.
I am having said MRIs to ascertain just how fucked up my back and neck are this year, and since I haven’t had the tests done in a several years and since the last time I had them done I heard this proclamation of doom:
“Before you’re forty, you’re going to have to have back and neck surgery.” (surgery surgery surgery) *gong*
Yeah, since THAT, I’m not expecting good things.
I flat-out refuse to have back surgery. Nearly everyone I’ve come across who has had it has told me awful things: The recovery period is ridiculously long, they’re worse off or no better than they were before, they now require ridiculous amounts of narcotics, or they use a cane or walker.
Fuck that in the ear.
I do have pain, but I think it’s not unreasonable. This is why God made pills. I don’t take an excessive amount, and I also have a pain patch that keeps me medicated through the week. I can’t sit for an excessive amount of time, but I can stand or lie down. Problem solved. As far as the discs being slipped, they’re just going to have to keep right on slipping and a-sliding; because someone is not cutting into my spine, near my spinal cord, you know, the thing that attaches to your BRAIN.
Fuck that in the ear TWICE.
I also am having X-ray of my hips because I have arthritis, because I am 36 years old and everyone knows that 36 is doddering old lady age, the age when one starts to fall completely apart and contract maladies like arthritis and gout and fucking weak bladders. Next thing you know I’ll be wearing adult diapers and talking about my rheumatiz.
I hate this body sometimes.
One of these days I am going to find my biological parents and thank them profusely for the stellar genes they have passed along to me. Then I’m going to hit them both with a shovel.
God, that would be satisfying.
So tomorrow is Turkey Day and I’ve already baked biscuits and started on cookies and brownies (because we must have at least eighteen varieties of sweets). Tomorrow I’ll have my hands rammed up a turkey’s ass (highlight of my day), drink too much wine, and be up to other fun things. My best friend and my sister and her kids are coming for dinner, so we should have quite a crew.
I have some sort of sick urge to shop on Black Friday, and I can’t quite figure out why. I hate crowds. I hate blatant commercialism. I hate sales in which hyperactive women are grabby and pushy. I love deals, but not enough to deal with the shitty parking and the mob scene and the spazzed out customers.
Still, there’s some small voice in my head that whispers, “Go. Shop. Get your shopping done and perhaps score an iPod touch. (selfish voice) Dooooo eeeeet.”
I must be losing it.
Anyway, here’s hoping you and yours have a great one. Happy Long Weekend.
Here’s some positive stories about back surgery, then:
My brother had to have back surgery multiple times. But that’s because after the 2nd one (years after the 1st one) he went out riding his motorcycle after his recovery period was almost over…and hit a patch of gravel. (He works in construction, and was at one point hit on the head with a falling beam. This later lead to the first back surgery.) He does have to take pain pills, and actually has a small device in his back that sends electronic impulses to help manage his pain. Once that got installed, he finally got to cut WAY back on the opiates.
My father had slipped discs. He is very tall, and so his back was kind of jacked up. He spent a year in varying states of pain, slowly losing feeling in his right foot, before he had back surgery when he was in his late 40s. He had the long recovery period…but now is fine, has no pain, does not need to take any additional pills or wear a patch. In fact, he’s helping my mom remodel their kitchen. He takes Tylenol if he gets a headache, or slams his finger in a cupboard door…or any other reasons people might take a Tylenol for. He often joins my brother (the one who now permanently sets of airport metal detectors) for some waterskiing, and he used to bikeride. (He’s just passed into his 60s and is less active. He didn’t stop bikeriding because of the back pain.)
My mom had back surgery when she was in her early 50s (a few years after my dad had his.) She had the long recovery period. She had watched my dad go through back surgery, so she knew: take it easy, do not push the recovery period, not one little tiny bit. Rest. Do exercises to strengthen your ab muscles (because then they do more of the work of keeping you upright than your back, which is how it’s supposed to be.) Change your posture and how you walk to use your leg muscles more (because – again – that’s how the body is engineered to work best.) She is helping Dad remodel the kitchen. She’s also a muralist, and spends lots of time painting peoples’ walls, skimcoating, bending over to tape off baseboards, rearranging her own house every time the moon passes into a new phase…she recovered with absolutely no problems.
It’s not all horror stories. In my own family, the one person who had a less-than-easy time recovering…had extenuating circumstances. Since you neither work in construction nor ride motorcycles, you have a fairly low chance of encountering those extenuating circumstances. Check around, choose a good surgeon whose patients have never needed to come back (because the surgeon did it right the first time.)
Have a great Food Coma Day!! Seattle’s pretty much shut down because of snow, ice, and arctic fronts. I am holing up at my place with chili, roast potatoes, a salad with all kinds of stuff in, and a whole pumpkin pie. And ice cream. And waffles. And coffee. Fun times.
TURKEY RECIPE
I thought this sounded good! Here is a turkey recipe that also includes the use of popcorn as a stuffing ingredient — imagine that. When I found this recipe, I thought it was perfect for people like me, who just are not sure how to tell when turkey is thoroughly cooked, but not dried out. Give this a try.
8 – 15 lb. turkey
1 cup melted butter
1 cup stuffing ( Pepperidge Farm is Good)
1 cup un-popped popcorn (ORVILLE REDENBACHER’S LOW FAT IS BEST)
Salt/pepper to taste
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Brush turkey well with melted butter, salt, and pepper. Fill cavity with stuffing and popcorn. Place in baking pan making sure the neck end is toward the front of the oven, not the back. After about 4 hours listen for the popping sounds. When the turkey’s ass blows the oven door open and the bird flies across the room,…. it’s done.
And, you thought I didn’t cook…
Have a great one, Laughing Muse!
And ReaderGrrrl, LMAO! You have a great one, too!
i am going to just be very honest with you…..once again i love reading your thoughts and i can relate to you….that being said…jen, have you ever tried the mayo clinic? and if you have…i would be shocked because i missed it in your blogs. insurance and money aside…just asking, have you ever thought of, been recommended to…or tried that idea before? really money aside…has it ever been something you have addressed?
I’ve thought about it, sure. A few years ago, I was all set to go to the Cleveland Clinic, but at the last minute they decided not to accept my out-of-state insurance. Now that I have Medicare AND Medicaid, though, it could be a possibility, it’s just a matter of transportation, and leaving my son in the care of my mom, who works full-time. From what I hear, when you’re at Mayo, you’re there for quite some time undergoing tests, and it’s not exactly close to me. I will admit it’s sort of a fantasy, though. I always imagine they have some sort of Jetson-esque machine they put you through that reads exactly what’s wrong with you and spits out a pill (only ONE pill) that takes care of your every need and cures you. Heh.