Tonight I'd like to talk about a real problem I'm having. My sciatic nerve is allegedly pinched or is under pressure or something catastrophic. It's been bugging me on and off for a while, but over the last couple of weeks it has taken a turn for the worse. The chiropractor has adjusted me, the doctor has medicated me and I am going to go do physical therapy, I guess. All I know is, it is getting progressively worse. It's starting to concern me.
Today, I was limping around like I am a geriatric nightmare. I started to think, what if this really takes a turn for the worse? Every day it feels like this leg is seizing up more and more. What if pretty soon I can't even limp on it? What if I am dragging it around like a dead body? Then I get a hunch back from stressing my back and right hand side. Pretty soon, the pressure of the pain makes one eye twitch and one eye bulge. I can't get dressed anymore by myself. I sure as hell can't bend my leg to put pants or socks on, so I wear a mumu, no underwear and crocs on my feet. I won't be able to comb my hair anymore because my shoulders will be worn out from dragging myself around. I'll have to order one of those Hover-Rounds or Little Rascals that they have infomercials for. The 80+ age group sure likes them. Then I will just get super fat, because I have given up all hope. I'll be stinky and pretty soon no one will come visit. The Para-Transit people will stop coming to get me, so I'll have to go out on indefinite FMLA on account of being a stinky invalid. Then, I'll get some more wiener dogs and probably some cats for companionship. I don't know if Will will stick around or not. As sexy as I look with a google-eye, scary hair, back boobs, side boobs and front boobs, and bed sores from the Little Rascal, I imagine at some point Will is going to have to draw the line.
Once Will leaves me, that's when CNA Barbie will show up. That's right, a Certified Nursing Assistant will come take care of me. The only reason she is a CNA is because cheerleading and having sex with the captain of the football team didn't pan out like she wanted, so now she has to get a real job and she figured she might as well help people, I mean, that totally sounds noble. Plus, she didn't want to have to do a bunch of schooling. She's wearing her cute nursing shoes, her kitty cat scrubs and her hair is in a messy bun. She is totally committed to serving me...as long as that means she gets to do her nails, talk on the phone and throw marshmallows at my mouth when I open it to speak. I sure better not crap my pants, because, after all, she doesn't do diapers. So, now, I'm sitting there in feces watching CNA Barbie look for the perfect guy on Plenty of Fish and shop for high heel shoes. It's at this point I wish I had taken all of my muscle relaxers and jumped off the skybridge at work on February 6, 2012.
I'm not saying any of this is going to happen, I'm just saying, if it does, that is going to suck. Oh, and I am totally going to throw up on CNA Barbie, if I ever see her.
As I was at work having these thoughts, I noticed you can see the cemetery from the inner skybridge in the building. I had never really noticed before that you can see two grave stones on the hill. It was as if they were beckoning me. I've always said I'm not going to die in that building, but the signs are starting to indicate otherwise. I guess I should try and focus on the positive side of things. I'm positively happy it is almost time for two more muscle relaxers and bed time.
Back at it tomorrow...one step at a time...leaving one footprint and one drag mark as I go....
Today, I was limping around like I am a geriatric nightmare. I started to think, what if this really takes a turn for the worse? Every day it feels like this leg is seizing up more and more. What if pretty soon I can't even limp on it? What if I am dragging it around like a dead body? Then I get a hunch back from stressing my back and right hand side. Pretty soon, the pressure of the pain makes one eye twitch and one eye bulge. I can't get dressed anymore by myself. I sure as hell can't bend my leg to put pants or socks on, so I wear a mumu, no underwear and crocs on my feet. I won't be able to comb my hair anymore because my shoulders will be worn out from dragging myself around. I'll have to order one of those Hover-Rounds or Little Rascals that they have infomercials for. The 80+ age group sure likes them. Then I will just get super fat, because I have given up all hope. I'll be stinky and pretty soon no one will come visit. The Para-Transit people will stop coming to get me, so I'll have to go out on indefinite FMLA on account of being a stinky invalid. Then, I'll get some more wiener dogs and probably some cats for companionship. I don't know if Will will stick around or not. As sexy as I look with a google-eye, scary hair, back boobs, side boobs and front boobs, and bed sores from the Little Rascal, I imagine at some point Will is going to have to draw the line.
Once Will leaves me, that's when CNA Barbie will show up. That's right, a Certified Nursing Assistant will come take care of me. The only reason she is a CNA is because cheerleading and having sex with the captain of the football team didn't pan out like she wanted, so now she has to get a real job and she figured she might as well help people, I mean, that totally sounds noble. Plus, she didn't want to have to do a bunch of schooling. She's wearing her cute nursing shoes, her kitty cat scrubs and her hair is in a messy bun. She is totally committed to serving me...as long as that means she gets to do her nails, talk on the phone and throw marshmallows at my mouth when I open it to speak. I sure better not crap my pants, because, after all, she doesn't do diapers. So, now, I'm sitting there in feces watching CNA Barbie look for the perfect guy on Plenty of Fish and shop for high heel shoes. It's at this point I wish I had taken all of my muscle relaxers and jumped off the skybridge at work on February 6, 2012.
I'm not saying any of this is going to happen, I'm just saying, if it does, that is going to suck. Oh, and I am totally going to throw up on CNA Barbie, if I ever see her.
As I was at work having these thoughts, I noticed you can see the cemetery from the inner skybridge in the building. I had never really noticed before that you can see two grave stones on the hill. It was as if they were beckoning me. I've always said I'm not going to die in that building, but the signs are starting to indicate otherwise. I guess I should try and focus on the positive side of things. I'm positively happy it is almost time for two more muscle relaxers and bed time.
Back at it tomorrow...one step at a time...leaving one footprint and one drag mark as I go....
Core Exercises Little Pony If I see you in a MuMu I will get you dressed right. If your hair is messy I will comb it.. No CNA Barbie is going to take away Cassondra the great
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