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- #33
It was the loudest, longest, "FUUUUCK!!!!" I've ever screamed into the wind. Tempered only by the fact that I was shitting myself about having it, I was more than a little disappointed to learn that I am not to have surgery.
After the MRI scan and x-rays, the surgeon has determined that my spine would need work on six or seven levels and then putting back together and held in place with titanium plates and bolts. Six or seven vertebrae locked together would make me very stiff backed, don't you think? Anyway, the risk of leaving me worse off than when he started was too great for him even to offer me the option. Never mind being over-weight and diabetic, it was several vertebrae too far for him.
So no magic wand, no fairy dust, just more of what I've been putting up with for the last year - and deterioration, of course. Oh glee! I've been putting up with it with severe wishful thinking, anticipating an end to it, an improvement, something better. Sheesh! did that bubble burst with a bang!
So now begins the journey of getting accustomed to the idea - nay! the reality that this is what my life is going to be like. Thus the long, loud expletive, followed by chocolate and a lot of snuff.
A buddy was good enough to point out that I had made a wise decision when I embarked on my walk-abouts, opera travels and trips generally "while I'm still young and fit enough". Little did I know!
S'a fucka, innit? I'm only 68 - otherwise in my prime - well, maybe a bit past. And yes, this is an invitation for big R's for Carl - I figure I deserve them!
All together now, one, two, three - R!
After the MRI scan and x-rays, the surgeon has determined that my spine would need work on six or seven levels and then putting back together and held in place with titanium plates and bolts. Six or seven vertebrae locked together would make me very stiff backed, don't you think? Anyway, the risk of leaving me worse off than when he started was too great for him even to offer me the option. Never mind being over-weight and diabetic, it was several vertebrae too far for him.
So no magic wand, no fairy dust, just more of what I've been putting up with for the last year - and deterioration, of course. Oh glee! I've been putting up with it with severe wishful thinking, anticipating an end to it, an improvement, something better. Sheesh! did that bubble burst with a bang!
So now begins the journey of getting accustomed to the idea - nay! the reality that this is what my life is going to be like. Thus the long, loud expletive, followed by chocolate and a lot of snuff.
A buddy was good enough to point out that I had made a wise decision when I embarked on my walk-abouts, opera travels and trips generally "while I'm still young and fit enough". Little did I know!
S'a fucka, innit? I'm only 68 - otherwise in my prime - well, maybe a bit past. And yes, this is an invitation for big R's for Carl - I figure I deserve them!
All together now, one, two, three - R!