Sunday's drive up your blog… with Ramblin' Rooster

The official blog of RoosterEgg.com

I Broke My Back

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Monday I woke up and was laying in bed when I turned to the side in an odd and funky way. The moment it happened a sharp and excruciating pain screamed out from the middle of my back and I knew I had done something bad. I got out of bed and confirmed my suspicions. I had broken my back. It hurt in a way I’ve never felt before. It was like someone was sitting on my chest. I couldn’t breathe. Hell, I could barely move.

 

So embarrassing, you know? Why couldn’t I have thrown out my back saving children in a fire or in some Guinness World Record Super Sex Maneuver? Why’d I have to hurt myself just turning to the side? Is this because I’m getting old or am I really so out of shape moving causes injury?

 

I forced myself into the shower and turned the hot water to scolding. At this point the second degree burns were a distant second to the pain I was feeling.  Needless to say the shower didn’t do anything for me and my back was still killing me.

 

Work was even worse. Shooting pain and non-stop aches plagued me as a sat in my chair with a frown. Certain movements would cause me to make the painful-sucking-in-air-ouchie- noise which in turn made the pain worse because of filling my lungs so abruptly. Not to mention I was in total hypochondriac mode, trying desperately to diagnose every feeling in my entire body.

 

I really didn’t know what to do. My natural instinct is to always just “wait it out”. I’m the guy that goes to the doctor to find he has a terminal illness and is told, “If only you would have come in sooner, we could have saved you”. I’d probably take my blackened, shriveled fingers in weeks later and ask, “Can you still sew these on?” Yes, I’m that kind of idiot.

 

The cool thing about hurting yourself is that it gives every human you make contact with the excuse to practice what must be a hidden and deep desire to be a doctor. Never once did I ever ask for a medical opinion from anyone, yet I received advice from everyone with a pulse that ranged from going to a chiropractor to rubbing mayonnaise on it.

 

Around lunch time the mayonnaise, with a little ham, was starting to sound pretty good. I knew that I didn’t want to go the rest of the day in pain if I could be made to suffer less. I figured if I was going to try and make an appointment, I’d better get on it.

 

The polls taken from the mass public, that I gathered, indicate that it’s pretty close to 50/50 with people being of the opinion that a chiropractor can help you with a pinched nerve. Ironically the same result can be said for people who think chiropractors are quacks. I never knew that chiropractors were so looked down on.

 

In effort to relieve the pain by any means necessary, I made an appointment and was off to see the doctor in the next hour or so. I left early in attempt to spearhead the “first time patient” paperwork, (which I hate paperwork). When I got there I was kind of having fun filling out the forms. Stuff like, “Who is responsible for the payment of services? I AM. What is the relationship to the patient? WE SHARE THE SAME BODY” you know, silly things like that. I finished my paperwork in record time and was moved to a different waiting room.

 

They call it a waiting room for a reason I guess, because that is indeed what I did. Forty five minutes past my original appointment time I stood up, with much pain, grabbed my folder out of the plastic tray-slot on the wall and walked back up front and dropped it on the counter. I told the nurse, (or receptionist rather) that I had changed my mind and walked out. It was the first time I had ever done anything like that.

 

In the car, driving away, I wondered if what I had done was smart or stupid. I had already invested damn near an hour and a half to this endeavor. Plus there were only three people in front of me near as I could tell from the way the folders were being pulled from the plastic tray-slot.

 

Four days after the ordeal, my back feels pretty good. I don’t really have any discomfort and I don’t regret my decision. I saved myself some money and stood up for my rights, (I guess). I’ve never understood why it is that doctors think they can keep you waiting for as long as they want. That has always made me angry and here it was a chiropractor doing it to me on my first visit.

 

It felt good walking out, like freedom. It was like saying to the doctor himself, “Hey man, I’m not putting up with your crap and even though my back is killing me, I’m not going to let you treat me like I don’t matter, like I’m a burden.”

 

Amazingly the doctor himself called me today to ask what had happened. I guess he got the message after all. He was pretty nice about it and told me it sounded like my body would fix itself. Maybe it was all a scheduling mishap.

 

Always remember; never let anyone have too much control and never underestimate the power of walking.

 

Egg On!

Ramblin’ Rooster

 

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Written by Ramblin' Rooster

April 16, 2009 at 4:22 am

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