Adventures in Physical Therapy, or "Can someone please help me up?!"

Dr Kerry and I have been talking about my back pain and the fact that I average only about 3 hours sleep before I have to get up and work the kinks out. Rinse and repeat. Two or three such episodes each night makes for less-than optimal rest. There does not seem to be a mattress solution - the problem persists no matter what bed I happen to be in. Or not in, often. I'm limited in the choice of pain-killers - all of the standard (and non-standard) non-steroidal anti-inflammatory meds are out because of asthma complications; steroids are out in the long term and if I used sleeping pills Barbara would need a hoist to get me upright the next morning. So...

Monday I started Physical Therapy. I am happy to report that I can walk again, and this is only Wednesday! Two more days and I let them hurt me again. I can't wait!

No, really! I want to go back; I really do! And the reason is - electro-stimulation! When they are all done with the Marquis De Sade-inspired stretching and exercising - and only after you have submitted to their sadistic little games do they let you go to "e-stim." Please, sir! May I have another, sir?

Ya'll, I'm telling you that this little gizmo makes you feel as good as one person by themselves can feel! They slap some sticky-pad electrodes on your lower back, plop you down on a heat pad and turn on the juice. It feels like... like... I have no words for what this feels like. Sort of like thousands of ants crawling around stinging you, ONLY IT FEELS GOOD! Or, thousands of needles poking you, but they don't hurt! Small furry animals - okay, I'll quit. I may not be able to describe it but I sure do like it!

Has therapy helped my back? Who cares? Uh, too soon to know. Stay tuned.