** Disclaimer: This post was written while under the influence of narcotics and you know what THAT means! **
Here's a picture of my bum arm taken yesterday afternoon:
I'm taped differently right now than I have been in recent weeks. The tape sort of looks like the legs of a stick person, don't you think? Or maybe I'm just hallucinating on my drugs?
I see Stick People.
The Torturer taped me up after my orthopedic surgeon decided he needed to hurt inject me again. My bicep tendon is one of the many parts of my shoulder which has been surgically altered. It's been causing a lot of problems recently. Doc thought if he hurt me intensely yesterday, I might forget about it.
Or something like that. (Or, possibly, something entirely different from that.)
The doc stabbed me with an effing needle in a part of my shoulder where no needle should go. I think his entire office heard me yelp in pain as he dug that needle into me. It was the most painful shoulder injection I've ever had and I've had too many to count. Possibly it was excruciating because the area was so acutely painful to start with.
My arm will be even more useless for at least a few days until it rebounds from the shot. The remainder of my week will be filled with drugs and spinning rooms.
** Will it go round in circles/Will it fly high like a bird up in the sky …?
La la la la … lyrics by Billy Preston. **
The doc and I also discussed the possible need for a long-term pain management doctor. I've been in quite a lot of pain for 3+ years and I'm giving up hope I'll ever NOT be in pain. My big concern with using a Pain Management Doc is I'm afraid he/she will just throw lots of drugs at me. I prefer to be as drug-free as possible. I do not want to become addicted to pain meds.
Although? Spinning rooms are really fun if you only experience them once in awhile.
After my injection, I went back to PT (I had already spent two hours there earlier that morning). I cried on The Torturer's shoulder. He has good shoulders for crying on. The Torturer hugged me and then taped me up and sent me off to the drugstore to pick up my pain meds.
I might have implied he's a man-whore while I was there. The Torturer might have (softly) bopped me on the head in response.
When he doesn't hate me, I'm his favorite patient. Have I mentioned that?
I'm sure he's overjoyed knowing I will be right back in there with him again today.
My life sucks.
And now – on to other oddities besides the weird tape on my arm, shoulder and back.
1. While I was waiting to see my surgeon yesterday I was told he would be in to see me, "in just a few more minutes." I waited. Then, I waited some more. Where was he? Turns out, he was in his office reading 24 and didn't want to be interrupted by his staff until he was done.
Isn't that a little strange?
Um, I was right there in an examination room waiting for him …. Really, he could have just TALKED to me, don't you think? He said reading 24 is a "nice little break" from work. He likes to read it while he's working on his charts.
Hellooooo? I was waiting for you doc!
2. My surgeon has taken to calling himself Dr. Perky since I wrote about him acknowledging my perky boobs at one of my appointments. He thinks it's very funny and laughs at himself when he says it.
3. Dr. Perky was discussing with me whether my Brazilian Bikini Wax was more painful, or less so, than the injection he was giving me. (The part I just wrote about him injecting me sounds really dirty and I didn't intend it to! Or maybe it doesn't sound dirty? Maybe it's just my dirty, drugged-up, mind?)
How many orthopedic shoulder surgeons discuss their patient's brazilian bikini waxes with them? How many orthopedic shoulder surgeons read their patient's blogs? I was *bright* red as I explained to him that my shoulder pain is 500 bazilion times more painful than any brazilian bikini wax.
There are some people in my "real life" who know entirely too much about me.
I have a really pretty cooter!
4. My surgeon also thinks it's very funny that I use words like cooter and chub in my writing. <blush> I'm very ladylike as his patient (really!) and I think he finds the contrast hilarious. Having my surgeon chuckling over the words cooter and chub? Very, very odd ….
5. Dr. Perky lives in Newport Beach which is one of the most affluent areas in California. (Yes, I'm quite sure my shoulder expenses have assured he will be able to continue living there forever.) Nonetheless, Dr. Perky sees patients from all over the world Orange County the U.S. and he agrees the women living in Money Town "are the worst" on the shallow/plastic/pretentious scale. Of course, there are nice, normal, people in Money Town too.
I met one once.
6. The doc has given me a new prescription. Quite emphatically, he insists I continue writing. He thinks my writing is a very healing influence for me. He thinks it's a creative outlet I need to help me cope with my pain/recovery/shitty life.
I couldn't stop if I tried. Writing is too much a part of who I am.
7. Unrelated to everything else in this post, I've been invited to a Plastic Surgery Party tonight. Have you ever heard of such a thing? Only in Orange County! I have no idea what a Plastic Surgery Party entails. I'm planning to attend. In all likelihood, I will be on pain meds while I'm at the party. Being on pain meds means I will have to make use of a designated driver. I also won't indulge in any alcohol because strong narcotics and alcohol mixed together = deadness. Lastly, I will have to work very hard to keep my mouth under control. It could be really embarrassing if I say the wrong thing! (Like, "Wow those are the biggest fake tits I've ever seen!") I plan to tweet the experience live if possible. I will also be writing a blog post covering the event sometime in the next few days.
© Twenty Four At Heart