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tomorrow i go for my billionth MRI. well, not billionth, but lets just say that the radiology techs know my first name. so, i get to lay in a space approximately the size of a shoe box for an hour or so while i become magnetized, injected with dye and magnetized again. where's my super powers, dammit?!
i used to think of the MRI step as the hopeful part, the part that i finally get to find out what went wrong this time, but i've learned from countless experiences that it's just the first step down a slippery slope of giant needles in my spine, endless pain killers, a host of embarrassing ailments until finally some overpaid yayhoo cuts me open and jams a bunch of metal in me then calls it a day. the whole ordeal usually costs well over $100,000. thank god for insurance.
the part of me that usually waits with baited breath to see what's going on has become jaded and bitter. now, it's like a dance i've done a million times and it's getting old. i'd really like for my arms to work properly, maybe even my neck and shoulders, but i'm not holding out hope. it's tough because pain isn't something that's immediately tangible to an onlooker unless it's hammed up, which is so not my style.
my style is to simply push forward and pretend like nothing's wrong, hoping that my body will follow suit. i know it's pitiful, but it's just easier to disguise a limp than to answer a dozen or so questions about it. i just walk fast so no one has a chance to notice. only the inner circle gets to see me limping, crying out or wincing in pain or even worse - using *the cane* (well, there are times that it comes out in public but it's only because i just can't take it anymore). a few have even seen me with *the walker*. some things are just impossible to disguise though, and those are the things that have caused me to once again throw myself into this process. things like involuntary twitches and gestures, shaking uncontrollably, not being able to turn my head without the muscles seizing up and freezing everything (not to mention being horribly frustrating and painful). things like not being able to hold onto something, or worse yet, throwing things at people on accident (but it comes in handy when you actually want to throw things at someone, hehehehe).
so tomorrow denotes the first steps down what will inevitably be the path to ANOTHER surgery, ANOTHER embarrassing brace or elaborate spinal support system (maybe i'll get REALLY lucky and get a halo! god shoot me now), relying on someone else to help care for me and ANOTHER few months recovery.
it just seems fucking unreal that this is just starting all over again. someone make a freaking spine replacement already. maybe master a spinal transplant. something. anything. this dance has gotten old.
i used to think of the MRI step as the hopeful part, the part that i finally get to find out what went wrong this time, but i've learned from countless experiences that it's just the first step down a slippery slope of giant needles in my spine, endless pain killers, a host of embarrassing ailments until finally some overpaid yayhoo cuts me open and jams a bunch of metal in me then calls it a day. the whole ordeal usually costs well over $100,000. thank god for insurance.
the part of me that usually waits with baited breath to see what's going on has become jaded and bitter. now, it's like a dance i've done a million times and it's getting old. i'd really like for my arms to work properly, maybe even my neck and shoulders, but i'm not holding out hope. it's tough because pain isn't something that's immediately tangible to an onlooker unless it's hammed up, which is so not my style.
my style is to simply push forward and pretend like nothing's wrong, hoping that my body will follow suit. i know it's pitiful, but it's just easier to disguise a limp than to answer a dozen or so questions about it. i just walk fast so no one has a chance to notice. only the inner circle gets to see me limping, crying out or wincing in pain or even worse - using *the cane* (well, there are times that it comes out in public but it's only because i just can't take it anymore). a few have even seen me with *the walker*. some things are just impossible to disguise though, and those are the things that have caused me to once again throw myself into this process. things like involuntary twitches and gestures, shaking uncontrollably, not being able to turn my head without the muscles seizing up and freezing everything (not to mention being horribly frustrating and painful). things like not being able to hold onto something, or worse yet, throwing things at people on accident (but it comes in handy when you actually want to throw things at someone, hehehehe).
so tomorrow denotes the first steps down what will inevitably be the path to ANOTHER surgery, ANOTHER embarrassing brace or elaborate spinal support system (maybe i'll get REALLY lucky and get a halo! god shoot me now), relying on someone else to help care for me and ANOTHER few months recovery.
it just seems fucking unreal that this is just starting all over again. someone make a freaking spine replacement already. maybe master a spinal transplant. something. anything. this dance has gotten old.