A Week Off I Didn’t Want

Dixie cups filled with water for an instant back massager

I ignored the sign three weeks ago. After a chiropractic adjustment, despite feeling better from a back spasm in January, I noticed a twinge in my lower back.  I likened it to post work out muscle soreness.

On Thursday the gradual pain turned into immobility. After calling work,  I grabbed some sweat pants and a shirt to go to the Pan Am clinic.  Within the space of two hours,  x-rays confirmed my spine looks fine.  The full diagnosis:

Lumbar Musculo-ligamentous Sprain

Wait! There’s More!

According to my referral,  it comes with pyriformis related spasm,  and sciatica.  No matter how’s it’s phrased,  the pain brought tears to my eyes. The only reprieve came from a sign making me both laugh and cringe. Just outside X-ray, I slowly changed back into my clothes,  and noticed this sign:

Please tell the technician if you’re your (sic) pregnant.

I had to look at the sign twice to wrap my head around it. I think the would-be grammarian suffered a concussion. Either that or just dim in this age of texting. I nearly burst out laughing reading the ‘correction’.

At the present moment I have a doctor-mandated week off.  Let the wall climbing begin. I limit my sitting and tap out this post with my tablet.  In between heat, ice, and physio exercises I make my way through Mad Men on Netflix. Currently, it’s 1965 otherwise known as season 4.

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