I’m back from my first trip to the pain clinic. What fun! What pain! (Is this what old age is all about?) Dr. Lal is quite young and obviously fit; he is a rock climber. I envy him. He also has quite a practice; he’s a very busy man. I joined half a dozen others that were being processed through the back room where the treatment table with a fluoroscope is located. Up on the table, a quick IV shot of pain meds; roll over onto your stomach and then a local anesthetic. Wait just a second and then the search for the offending nerve, using a much larger needle. JEEKERS! He found it…twice. Then it’s about 30 minutes before I could walk again. Now that I’m home, I’m waiting for a miracle. I’ve been told that it could take a few weeks. Grrr!
What was the absolute worst part? The fact that they put me into a wheelchair until I recovered enough to walk. I had this vision of myself being in such a chair forever. I didn’t like it. At heart I'm still a marathoner.
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