Health

So I have been having back pain. Nothing new, it feels like knots in the muscles between my shoulder blades. But it’s been getting worse and worse, surpirse, surprise, since I took this new job. I figured it was time to see a doctor when it started radiating down my arms and making my fingers go numb. Oh, and radiating to my chest. Chest pain is not good. I’m definitely feeling my age.

I had a complete physical this week. My 34 years are showing. She xrayed my back to rule out nerve root compression, and she recommended massage and yoga. There were other issues, resulting in other tests, the details of which I will spare my loyal fans, mainly due to the “EEEEWWWWW” factor. In any case, I am on the verge of falling apart.

So tonight, dutifully, I went for a massage, to a licensed massage therapist. And not a moment too soon. I had the worst headache of my life this afternoon. It was bad enough to be distracting. I had spots before my eyes. I wouldn’t have been able to drive, even if I wanted to. And my back was also worse than ever. So after supper, I went to see Gary, the massage therapist. Yes, I know what it sounds like. But I was pleasantly surprised. He was just out of massage therapy school, looked about 12 (in other words, not my type). He was full of thorough, useful knowledge of anatomy and physiology. I walked out feeling so much better than I had in weeks. My head still hurts, but not as much. So I am now a devotee of massage therapy. I even made another appointment.

I don’t go in for chiropractic and such. I worry it’s dangerous. But how could massage possibly be harmful? I am not opposed to the idea of acupuncture, but I would want to try it sometime. I do think I’ll try to find a yoga instructor somewhere though. It would do me some good to stretch more. And drink less coffee. And more milk. And eat more veggies.

I do hear that coffee is good for you. The newspaper said it is full of antioxidants (so it must be true). It’s good, now I don’t need to stop drinking it. Of course so is green tea and red wine and grapes, so I could probably just use those and get my maximum cancer-fighting nutrients that way. But they are not the same as a cup of coffee in the morning. Too bad it’sa diuretic. But besides, I think that the caffeine headache would be far worse than the dehydration headache.

So now, although my back feels quite a bit better, I am tired and draggy. I feel kind of afflicted. Like suddenly I have a chronic medical problem. I’ve never had one of those before. My body has always been there for me. It can’t start fighting back now. I live healthier than I ever have. Oh, well, I expect I will assimilate this new “condition”, my “back problems”, into life and carry on. What else can you do? At least it’s not cancer.

Amusingly, tonight, as I was tucking Aimee in, I said, “So when do you want to talk about where babies come from and stuff?” “Never,” she said quickly. “But you need to know how to avoid babies until it’s time,” I said. “Where is my blanky?” she said. “Stop changing the subject. If you don’t want to talk to me about it, how about Daddy?” She looked mortified. “NO!” she said. “Don’t you want to know when you are going to start growing boobs?” I asked. “NO!” she said. “Don’t you want to know when you’ll start getting hairy?” I said. “NO!” she said. “Well, we need to talk about it sometime, before you hear it from your friends,” I said. “Can you reach my book?” she said. I gave up. The child may well get her first period without knowing what it is. Shameful, for the child of a nurse. I think my plan is to strategically time The Talk with Jack, who would like it now, I think, for when she is around but “not listening”, so she at least has some idea of what to expect.

Anyway, as long as she gets it from me before she gets it from little Rebecca, we’ll be fine.

Ok, diatribed enough. I am going to pee out all the toxins and metabolic waste that Gary released from my muscles, and then I’m taking my headache to bed. It’s good for my health. Bed, not headaches and toxins. Nothing wrong with bed.

Aww, man! I hear Canada Geese flying over. It must be September. Happy autumn.

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About therapeuticrambling

I am a wife, a mom, a nurse, a writer. I enjoy laughing.
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One Response to Health

  1. celticdreams says:

    Why don’t you tell Jack about babies and hair, and then offer him five bucks and a pail of ice cream to go tell Aimee?

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