Google is awesome, really they are, but if they keep changing Blogger from what seems like (to me and my bad posting ways) one day to the next, they're going to go too fast too far too soon for me to keep up.
I guess this is why it's a good thing that my blog is not a popular one. Trying to figure out how to just get here to post was more difficult than I expected. Is that the little old lady inside me trying to get out? Damn technology! Young whipper snappers! Get off my land! -- Oh wait, too far.
I'm probably not supposed to be typing right now so I will keep it short...or short for me. 2012 is the year of the shoulder for me. As the blog as my witness, I'm getting the last bit of my August 25th 2008(? really? that year might change once I verify) "Bike vs F150 Pick Up Truck Accident" taken care of for reals this year.
I don't know if I already mentioned it here (it's just a bit too much for me to look, and rewriting it is way easier) but back a couple years ago my company was gifted free massages from a local massage/chiropractic office that wanted our business. I opted not to sign up as I did not have the means to embark on a massage expense, even if if was just for a co-pay, times were tight. However, my coworker couldn't attend hers so she asked if I could take her 15 min. session. The guy was all smiles and instead of trying to sell me a package - I told him straight up I had no cash, just a hurty shoulder, he stopped being a salesman and just eased the lighting and fire than were ravaging my neck/shoulder/arm. As he worked he noted that whatever was going on was part of a much bigger ache (I so wish I had this ability, touch a muscle and read it's historical woes....). He advised that even if I did not come to his clinic, that I should look into it as it would not heal on it's own.
I tried, and failed, to get my act together enough to see my Osteopath and get some kind of treatment started/continued for the next two years. I failed so badly that last October I was hit with intense soul-crushing muscle spasms that made me cry and voluntarily go to my regular doctor so she could give me lots of drugs. Cyclobenzapreen (spelled differently I'm sure) is the bomb, but not what I want to be taking daily; nor was my increasingly daily use of Cake lyrics to describe the ache/pain in my shoulder (seriously, it really was "monster-truck force.")
Then we moved cubicles the last week of the year. You know, the one I wrote about having to work? The day we finished unpacking I was on the phone scheduling an appointment, which occurred today. I might have to found the Church of the Blessed Osteopathy. I went into my appointment not even knowing where to begin in how wretched my shoulder felt. Typing today was an experiment in masochism. I could not raise my arm enough this morning to run a comb through my hair.
But now? Well, right this second I HURT. My arm feels like it was yanked from it's socket, given a good shaking, then shoved back in. Which is kinda what an Osteopath does but with his fingers and pressing on just the right tendons/muscle groups. More magic, I tell you. But magic that left me feeling like I could pitch a no-hitter! (I don't actually play baseball, so if that makes no sense, just pretend it does, I'm basing my knowledge on such educational films as Bull Durham and Major League. I could try a fencing analogy, but aside from me? No one would get it.) My shoulder/neck/arm felt better than it has for...yeah, going on three months since the muscle spasms from hell.
But tomorrow! Tomorrow should be a day of at lease 50% improvement, and I'm so looking forward to this.