The Guy With The Sonic Cup

I was driving to work yesterday, and I got behind a guy in a small 4-door car. As we stopped at a red light, I noticed that he had one of those giant Sonic drink cups perched on the left side of his trunk. "Whoa!" I thought, "when he starts moving, that cup's going to go flying. I better hang back so I don't get Cherry Limeade all over my Jetta!"

Well, he started moving again, and the cup didn't move. My eyes were glued to this damn cup as we traveled down a major road, periodically stopping at stoplights. How was this cup staying in place?

If there was nothing in the cup, it would have just blown away. It was a windy day. If the cup was full, it would have tipped at the first stoplight. Hell, it wouldn't have made it out of the Sonic parking lot. I pondered where a Sonic was, in relation to where I first saw the guy. And that darn cup.

Yes, I really kind of obsessed about this.

Then I noticed that the cup wasn't exactly sitting directly on the trunk...you could see a sliver of light under it. Did this guy glue the cup to his trunk? Why?!?! Why would you do this? Did he want to see how many people would honk at point at the darn cup, thinking he had forgotten it sitting on his trunk? And, while we are obsessing, who puts a drink on their trunk? I always put mine on my roof. So why the trunk? WHY?!?!?

I started analyzing the guy in the car. He looked like an older guy, maybe 50-ish, stocky. Not really a jokester, by the looks of him. Well, the looks of the back of his head, at least.

So, I finally have to make a turn to go to my office, and I got the chance to pull up alongside the guy. He was a delivery driver, according to the sign stuck on the driver's side door of his car. He didn't make eye contact, didn't point at the cup, as in "you like my cup, do you?". Nothing.

Has anyone seen this? Is this like those novelty half-golf balls that you can stick on your car windshield, like someone teed off into your car? Or was this guy just a bored delivery driver, looking for attention? Or do I just obsess about the goofiest things? Er, don't answer that last one.

Back to My Back

The fourteen days of anti-inflammatories are over and guess what? Say it with me! Nothing. Nada. Zippo. Bupkiss. Dorothy and lorib called it right...I should have gone directly to epidural steroid shot. Do not pass Go, do not collect $200. And Monkey McWearingChaps sent me some good information about Pain Management and Rehabilitation. But did I listen? Well, no. Goofy me.

So now I'm back where I started (Er, no pun intended). Half of me wants to just Live With It. Just freaking ignore it. Suck it up, sister. Life is hard and the pain will make you stronger. Right?

The ortho doc said that it COULD just go away on its own. The very key word there being COULD. It could also get bad enough that I couldn't do all my Goofy things. Yikes! What would I do then? I'd go mad sitting around with nothing to do. Eek!

The super-medical terminology for what's ailing me is: a small left lateral lumbar disc protrusion, with mild stenosis of the central spinal canal. I'm still researching this on the trusty Internet. There's some confusion (mine, mostly) about whether protrusion = herniation. There's also mention in my MRI report of disc dessiccation, which sounds a little to close to disc desecration. Or disc disintegration. Or how about disc discrimation? Try saying that one a few times fast.

What's funny is that I'm really too busy to deal with this now. I could (and should) call my original chiropractor - the one that healed/cured/performed a miracle on my herniated cervical disc several years ago. My hesitation in doing this is that he is a full HOUR'S drive away from anywhere that I might be on a given day.

So, in conclusion...there is no conclusion. The back issue is still in the back of my mind.

p.s. And, faithful readers, it really bothers me to have such a 'downer' post. I'll see what I can do about that!

Random Friday Junk

House for Sale
During our 20-mile Wyoming backpack adventure, Mr. Goofy & I had lots of time to talk (something we don't normally have with our 3-1/2 year old son around). We decided that we would sell our house in spring and move to a somewhat larger house.

So when we got back, we headed out the next day to look at houses. That is the Goofy Way. And...we found one! As karma/luck/universal kindness would have it, we got back from Yellowstone, Wyoming and promptly found a house we loved, named "The Yellowstone". Freaky, huh?

So we sat down and composed a list of things we need to do to our 15 year old house in order to sell it. The list is long...I had to shorten the top and bottom margins in Word to get it on 1 page!

So we have started painting, landscaping, trimming trees, cleaning and fixing. Goofy Junior thinks it's exciting that we have so many "projects" for him to be involved in. Gah!

Roof
We are getting a new roof. This spring, lots of hail descended upon Kansas City, and our roof finally raised the white flag of surrender. It has had hail hitting it virtually every spring for 15 years. We finally decided to call the insurance company and have them check it. And the result is... new roof!

This is very cool, except for the timing. Mr. Goofy is out of town this weekend, so I took Friday afternoon off to (say it with me..) do more house projects. As well as have some alone time before the Weekend-as-Goofy-Junior's-Sole-Parent. As luck would have it, the roofers decided that today (the Friday I mentioned above) would be a dandy day to start their work.

I came home around 1:30pm to three Mexican dudes on my roof, banging away. And a dumpster in my driveway. In the MIDDLE of my driveway, so there will be no garage parking for me this weekend. And roof droppings all over the front yard, back yard, and in the trees. Basically everywhere. Oh yeah, and all the pounding on the roof shook 15 years' worth of crap from our ceiling onto our floors, furniture, etc. INSIDE.

And can we talk for a minute about traumatized dogs that I came home to. They were like, "Dude, there are these noisy monsters on our roof! We tried to bite them, but they are way up there! And they keep dropping this white ceiling dust on our heads. Help us."

Fortunately, they tend to finish this roof stuff quick (we are not the only ones in our neighborhood having this done), so I think they will be out of my hair by Saturday afternoon.

Boondoggle
It's been over 5 years since a company has sent me to any sort of formal training. Well, any training outside of Kansas City, that is. You know? A boondoggle. Someplace fun that you travel to, learn some stuff, go drink with people of like mind. Fun stuff, man.

Anyway...I'm going on a conference! To Orlando! In November! Yee-ha! Plus the subject matter is something that is pretty good stuff for the work I do (but probably boring to 90% of the population).

I am trying to convince Mr. Goofy to come down mid-week and bring Goofy Junior. GJ is always talking about "the beach" and "the ocean" although he's never seen one (outside of a book that is). Being the Purveyor of Cool Experiences that I am, I think he needs to go see a real ocean.

And yes, I realize that Orlando is inland. But it's a hell of a lot closer to salt water than Kansas!

So that's what's on my mind this Friday. Stay tuned for more Goofy thoughts!

No Giant Death Tumors! Yippee!

Actually, my prognosis is pretty boring: I have an abnormality of the disc between the L5 and S1 vertabraes. That would be "L" for Lumbar and "S" for Sacrum (Take that, Sue Grafton!). The disc is the spongy stuff between your vertabraes that keeps them from grinding together. I heard the analogy once that your vertabraes are like the cookies in the Oreo cookie, and the disc is the "stuff". This analogy just makes me hungry.

So what does all this mean? Good question! Unfortunately, it means alot of the same ole, same ole...

Here's how the doctor conversation went...

Anti-inflammatories:
Me: I already tried those. They didn't help. They actually made it worse.
Doc: Well, I find that hard to believe. I can see them not helping, but I doubt they made it worse.
Me: (did that bitch just call me a liar!?) Well, they didn't help.*
Doc: Which ones did you take?
Me: Er.....it started with "N". Naaaaaaaaa-something. (Duh)
Doc: Naproxen? NaproseelyMcweely?
Me: Um, yeah. That first one. (whatever, bitch. Gimme the good ones)
Doc: Hmmmm....Let's try Celebrex. That one has a really good track record with cases like this.
Me: (Dammit, now I've got that stupid Celebrex song in my head...Cel-e-brate...Cel-e-brate...ARG!) Okay, sure.
Doc: Now try these for fourteen days. You will know whether they work or not after that. It will be obvious.
Me: Okay.

Physical Therapy:
Doc: If those don't do the trick, we will do some physical therapy.
Me: I already did that.
Doc: Well. (kinda ignoring me) Let's try it again.
Me: (Hey, did that bitch just ignore me? Whatever. I guess he's the "expert" here. I'll just nod and act interested). Um, okay. (also thinking...my benefit limit for physical therapy bit the dust about two months ago...this could get expensive)
Doc: (babbles on about physical therapy)

Epidural Steroids:
Doc: If all that doesn't help, we can move on to epidural steroids.
Me: Are those like cortisone shots? (me showing my clever Google research skills. Ha!)
Doc: Sort of. Have you had kids?
Me: No. (I HAVE a kid, but I've never HAD a kid, but didn't feel compelled to elaborate on this)
Doc: Er, well, it's an epidural, like when you go into labor, but instead of painkillers, it's steroids, which can help the disc heal.
Me: (Hell-oooooo? Did you hear me? NO LABOR. Wouldn't know an epidural if it poked me in the ass. That is where they put it, right???) Er. Okay.

At this point, I'm thinking, "Just shoot me in the ass, back, neck, wherever you need to with the epidural goo, 'cause I've already tried the drugs, I've already tried the therapy, and it's not working. I don't see how trying this all again (with the associated expense) will help."

But, hey, I'm a trooper. I'll go along with the plan and see what happens. Meanwhile, know that I know in certain terms what is wrong, I'm off to Google to do some research. Much to Cagey's dismay, I fear. Whee!


*Mr. Goofy later reminded me about how the anti-inflammatories gave me anxiety attacks. I had forgotten that fun side effect!

D-Day

Well, tomorrow is D-day. Doctor Day. Otherwise known as The Day When I Find Out What is Wrong with My Back. Hopefully...

All the MRIs are taken. I had my last one Friday. As you might recall, I freaked out during the previous one (from claustrophobia) and had to reschedule at an "open" MRI. I put the open in quotes (big, giant quotes) because it was NOT open. Liars! It was just shorter.

But...the technician was nice. And cute (hey, cute goes a long way when you are freaking out). And (this is the biggie)...he gave me a button to hold that I could press if I just couldn't take it anymore and he would (supposedly) eject me immediately from the machine. Just this simple rubber ball with a cord coming out of it - this CONTROL - kept me sane. Silly me forgot to see if it was actually connected to anything or not. They probably call it the "Idiot Ball" and laugh as patients frantically press it and nothing happens. Ah, but as usual, I digress....

So, the tests are all taken, and I have my orthopedist's appointment tomorrow. What will it be? Herniated disc? Giant tumor on my spine? Osteo-necrosis*? Or....my worst nightmare....

Nothing. I am super-duper afraid that he will tell me my back is normal. Why? Because what the hell do I do then? I'm in pain. Pretty bad pain sometimes. I'm worried that it will either be nothing(mental? stress?), or un-fixable. Like I said...what the hell do I do then?

So there. I said, er, typed it. I'm trying not to worry about it, cause we all know how much that helps (NOT!). Try to think some good, back-healing thoughts for me around 4:00pm CST tomorrow.

Unless my giant back tumor bursts, I'll be writing in tomorrow to let you all know the verdict.

So stay tuned - same Goofy time...same Goofy channel.


*Bo Jackson's disease. Yes, I've done some research on all the things it could be, regardless of how remote the chances.