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Helping You Get the Most Out of Your Misery
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HAIRSHIRT Helping You Get the Most Out of Your Misery |
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Monday, January 14, 2008Me No Am Smart
I am fucking stupid. I put the "tard" in retard. On the scale of 1 to 10, my intelligence would rank a slack-jawed, drooling 2. I make George W. Bush look like Hammurabi. If my brain was cotton, I would not be able to fashion it into a flea's tampon.
These and many similar self-loathing thought floated in my head today as I got off the phone with the receptionist at the pain clinic I'm currently working with. You see, after months of physical therapy that yielded very little, I decided to take my orthopedist's advice and consult this other doctor he knew. Said doctor figured the best way to calm down the nerves against which my bulging lumbar disc was pressing was to inject a little shot of steroids somewhere in the vicinity of my spine. I told him that sounded lovely and we scheduled it for tomorrow. All last week, I was practically dancing around the apartment (practically dancing, you see, because to call any of the pathetic gyrations I can muster "dancing" is to insult the art form and bring shame upon all those who practice it) in the joy that my gimpiness might finally be coming to an end. I was pretty organized. I wrote up lesson plans for my substitute. I arranged for my friend Deni to escort me home from the hospital, as my wife had an unbreakable previous engagement. I alerted my orthopedist's office that I would be picking up the films from my MRI this afternoon so that I could bring them to my pain doctor. What I didn't do was to read the pre-op instructions carefully enough to see that I had to stop taking my fucking Advil seventy-two hours before the procedure. A fact of which I was made aware when I called the pain clinic to confirm my appointment on the morrow. I almost fucking cried. 'Cause now I have to wait another goddamn week. Now I have to endure this shit for seven extra days. Now I get the awesome anticipation and subsequent experience of seventy-two hours sans pain meds. Yipee motherfucking yahoo. I really wish I had a different brain. And a different body to go with it.
Comments:
I imagine it's hard to think straight when you are in a bunch of pain. I rarely get headaches, but when I do, I am such a baby about it. I'm sorry to hear you're going through this and I hope the new treatments are helpful and that they restore the chipmunk quality to your voice. I miss that (you know what with the two podcasts and all.)
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And, quit calling yourself not smart. Do you know what that says about the rest of us?
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