Is it possible that life's ironies are inflicted upon those who will most appreciate them?
Yesterday morning I had my appointment with the medical imaging department at the hospital for a pre-op MRI of my lower back. Because of my aversion to the close confines of the MRI tunnel, I'm put in feet first with lower legs elevated on a very firm foam wedge. The bed of the device, which transports you down the tunnel, is very narrow with nothing to grip along its sides.
When I was finally rolled back out of the tunnel, my feet were still slightly into the opening and the nurse/technician commented on how tough they made it for people with bad backs to dismount. How prophetic.
A couple of hours after twisting my way out and into a sitting position, I was turning and bending ever so slightly to put a dozen eggs into the back of the car when I got this incredible shooting pain across the middle of my back. It seriously took my breath away and nearly put me on the ground.
A day later, I'm still walking around like someone with a flagpole up his butt. Maybe after the surgery I'll just read to veterans at the VA or maybe help them write letters. I think my days as a shelter worker are numbered...
Yesterday morning I had my appointment with the medical imaging department at the hospital for a pre-op MRI of my lower back. Because of my aversion to the close confines of the MRI tunnel, I'm put in feet first with lower legs elevated on a very firm foam wedge. The bed of the device, which transports you down the tunnel, is very narrow with nothing to grip along its sides.
When I was finally rolled back out of the tunnel, my feet were still slightly into the opening and the nurse/technician commented on how tough they made it for people with bad backs to dismount. How prophetic.
A couple of hours after twisting my way out and into a sitting position, I was turning and bending ever so slightly to put a dozen eggs into the back of the car when I got this incredible shooting pain across the middle of my back. It seriously took my breath away and nearly put me on the ground.
A day later, I'm still walking around like someone with a flagpole up his butt. Maybe after the surgery I'll just read to veterans at the VA or maybe help them write letters. I think my days as a shelter worker are numbered...