I woke up at 4:30 to the birds chirping, scribbled in my journal for a bit, listened to NPR, went for a walk (!!!), went to a bookstore and have been in an incredibly good mood. It's hard to know if the euphoria is from the pain meds or if I'm just really happy that every day it gets a little bit easier to put pants on.
One thing that caused me to laugh in bed this morning was an NPR interview with a scientist who spends a great deal of time in Antarctica. She says that during the period of peak isolation, when there is no sunshine and the last plane has left which means no one can leave for 9 months, the scientists watch The Shining.
Another delightful thing about that interview was that she said that there is a group of US Writers and Artists who go down to Antarctica for a good chunk of time. She described it in a way that made it sound as though the government arranges this. Sounded like she was talking about a different country in a different time. I've got to look into this program if it exists, and then I've got to get writing.
Enough about interesting things, I know you're dying to hear about "my condition," as I've come to call my darling dear bulging disk. Things were going quite well, but not as well as I had hoped, and so I decided to proceed with getting a second steroid injection yesterday. This one was split between the epidural space in my spine, which would address the pain going down my leg, and my sacroiliac joint, which would address the pain in my butt. (It's all been a pain in the butt, if you ask me...snap.) Instead of having my pants pulled down and laying on my stomach with one male doctor and one female x-ray tech in the room (as was the case with the first injection), this time there was a male doctor, a male resident, and a male x-ray tech. I didn't think anything of it until I was laying on my stomach with my pants down and the male resident said something like, "whoah - check out that crest!" The doctor agreed that I indeed have a high cresting sacroiliac joint, whatever that means. I didn't press for more information or speak up to remind them that the crest belongs to a conscious human, as I was more focussed on breathing and not passing out. I'm just glad to know that there is yet another thing that makes me special.
Here are some pics from my morning:
A visit to the neighbors:
Maybe a zinnia?
Ducks grazing. It ain't right!
New books
Check out these stats! 4.0 miles in 1:35 (avg pace of 23:52)