Now all I need is a “Cathy” comic strip taped to the wall next to me.

6
Aug
2012

My right elbow has been bothering me for a few months, and I have been collecting various opinions about it. It isn’t anything debilitating, it just has some pain that seems exacerbated by certain movements and does not seem to be healing.  I switched to using exclusively my left hand for all my computer mousing activity a couple of months ago, but it didn’t seem to make much difference. I stopped working out for a few weeks and likewise noticed no difference (so I started back up again). My doctor sent me for an MRI last Friday, and we will see what he says about that when the results come back. (Correction, really: my doctor wanted me to go for an MRI, but the fucking insurance company would not approve it until an X-ray had been done first, so that it what I had done Friday. I am sure I don’t need to note once again to my readership how evil I think insurance companies are, now do I?) Then today I was seeing my friend/massage therapist  Jose, who I have an ongoing trade with (not that kind of trade, you dirty minded fools. I teach him French and he gives me massages.) He is quite knowledgable, and took a look at my arm and gave me some instructions for how to take care of it for a few weeks to try to get it to heal. It involves a couple of immobilizing devices (one of those carpel tunnel wrist things made of hard plastic and a thick elastic elbow cuff thing). He also told me to ice and heat treat it three times a day, and to do this for several weeks. And to make the arm as immobile as possible, going so far as to suggest a sling if I can bear it. Put all of this together and it looks super awkward and I am really hating it, but kind of feeling like I should give it a try, he seems to know what he is talking about. He says it is very important to really give it time to heal, which I clearly have not been doing as I should. He could be right, but when I look down at my arm, especially that wrist immobilizer, it just makes me think of some sad, overweight, middle aged woman working in some dusty clerk’s office who has to deal with carpel tunnel after years of bad posture, uncomfortable furniture, and squinting look ups of county land records or birth certificate notices on microfilm. I may just rather deal with the slight pain and wait to hear from my doctor, the emotional humiliation of this get up is too much.

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