Sunday, November 25, 2012

The Tennis Ball is Not Enough

Cue the Bond theme music.

After giving my right arch some merciless rolling on a small, hard metal air freshener can yesterday and last night, the pain on walking is receding. Yay!

This tells me that my tennis ball is not hard enough to provide adequate pressure for whatever little arch problem has plagued me for the last four days. I don't think it was plantar fasciitis, because I could feel a pocket of fluid squishing around in there when I released the pressure.

I have to laugh about recommendations I've seen for using a ping pong ball... Really? If I can press a tennis ball nearly flat, wouldn't I just crush a ping pong ball? Nahh.... I think I need a golf ball instead. Lol

Perhaps that won't arouse Quincy's obsessive possessiveness like the mere scent of fresh tennis balls would. He's a simple dog, as long as you understand one thing: all tennis balls shall be his, even the one you hide in your suitcase for portable spinal spasm relief.

I used to wake up nearly screaming when that happened, and would lie down with a marble apple paperweight pressed into the trouble spot, falling back to sleep a while after I had forced that muscle spasm back into flatness. Yeah, it was like sleeping with a rock under my back, but it really helped. These days I use a percussion massager to beat my back numb. Yes, numb. Numb is better than pain. :)

Though I have to say that physical therapy is better than drugs. That's a misunderstanding that doctors have always had about me. Maybe it's due to the local pill head mentality. They go in, complain of owwies, then hold their hand out eagerly anticipating that prescription. I go in after I've been sick or in pain for a very long time already, my doctor claims to run tests, then claims all test results are clear of everything. Then he hints that I'm a hypochondriac who wants drugs.

No, that is NOT me. Tell me what I can do physically to fix the problem, even if it hurts. My neurologist offered me pain pills that would make me gain weight, or I could just be in pain. I opted to keep hurting. I wonder why there is nothing physically that can be done for my trapped femoral nerve.

I suspect a lot of these older doctors are not continuing their educations , but won't retire because it is just so easy to keep raking in the fees on office visits they don't really work at. It might explain why I'm lying here with my legs elevated (like my grandmother), trying to physically drain the ever-present edema from my lower legs, though I know I could go get some diuretic pills if I went shopping...

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