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Posts Tagged ‘neck’

I suppose one could say that since it is consensual then it is ok but I still find this to be one small step away from inc3st, b3astiality, and dwarf pr0n in terms of repulsive behavior.

Dutch broadcaster to air cannibalism.

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Aw hell, folks, it’s Grab Ass Tuesday.  Technically it is Wednesday as I post this, but I don’t give a rat’s patootie.

Here’s a joke to warm your heart.  I am told by Cruel Wife that if I ever do this I’m dead meat.

A couple was shopping at the mall on Christmas Eve, and the place was packed. Walking through the crowded mall the wife suddenly looks up and notices her husband is no where in sight. They have so much to do in such a short amount of time, that this really pisses her off. She grabs her cellphone to call him and ask him where the hell he is.
The husband answers in a calm voice says, “Honey, remember the jewelry store we went into 5 years ago where you fell in love with that diamond necklace but we were so broke that we could not afford it, and I told you not to worry, that one day I’d be able to buy it for you?”
She is so touched she begins to cry…”Yes-I remember that jewelry store.”
He said, “Well I’m in the bar right next to it.”
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Sent to me by a friend of my Dad’s – Salty Nutter – don’t know where he got it.
Yeah, I shot jerky out my nose when I saw it, too.
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My kitty, Jilly-Boo/Jill/Jillbert (pick one), has been as cute as a kitty can be since I got home from the hospital.  I think she realizes that life is fleeting and moments are precious, that relationships are what really matter.  It’s scritches that make the world purr, dammit.   Pictures get bigger if you click on them.
Jilly-Kitty in Occupy Lemur’s Drawers
Jilly-Boo looking very Cougar-like in Occupy Lemur’s Spare Bedding Foam
Lemur King’s healing neck.  Yes, it hurt.  Yes, I’m pasty-white.
The neck pic… bottom middle is where they hacked out part of my sternum to use in my neck fusion.  A faint “V” to the left of it 2-1/2″ and up 1-1/2″ (“V” pointing to 10 o’clock) is where the drain tube was.  The dark line is where they hacked in using something very similar to Aggie Sith’s Zombie-Killing Machete.
Swallowing is still a chore.  Hurts still but when medicated the hurt is less than what I experienced all day every day prior to the surgery.  I’ve got no complaints.
I even have more strength back.  Before, when I tried to open a bag of tortillas I did not have enough strength in my thumbs and forefingers to open the ziploc bag and ended up cutting the zip-tops off of every bag I came across.  Cruel Wife thought I was being an ass but I figured better to let her think I was an ass than to worry her with things like that.

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Yes, I am cracking up.  Didn’t sleep until after the sun came up.

Cruel Wife is hacking up bits and pieces of her internal organs.  She has had a cold for ten days or so now and I am hoping that I either don’t get it or get it very very soon, before surgery.  The last thing I want to be doing is coughing after I’ve had neck surgery.

As you know, my traitorous neck has been lying to my brain, and last night was especially bad.

Think of my neck as this spastic menopausal woman with low self-esteem named Astrid.  Astrid seeks attention by telling lies and manipulating her surroundings.  She has been telling those lies to my autonomous brain, who is  basically a not-so-bright fellow who we will call Sheriff Hynde.  Hynde discharges his firearm accidentally every other day and does a dozen stupid things at random regularly.  And when Hynde thinks stuff is going on that ought not be going on he makes everyone miserable and then they start reacting as well.

My arm is Dex, the conveniently-passing-by neighborhood handy-man who really is an agreeable sort but nevertheless is the target for Astrid’s lies.  Lies they may be, sometimes the lie shapes reality.

Now, Dex has done nothing to deserve being the target of Astrid’s behavior, but she’s having A Bad Day, and is taking it out on him.   Truth be told, Astrid has been having A Bad Day for many moons because of an injury she suffered years ago, and when she’s not seeing doctors, and she’s sending Hynde these “Dex is dying” text messages and the idiot Sheriff Hynde keeps falling for them.  Dex may be starting to believe them as well.

The other part of my brain, Mayor Neo Cortex is conflicted.  Rationally, he knows Astrid is a psycho bitch with some real issues but he also knows that getting rid of her is not a solution because she’s still a community institution.  He can’t replace Hynde because Hynde is his brother-in-law.  Even if he made sure Dex’s links to the community were severed and he was sent packing, Neo’s life would still be made miserable by the Astrid/Hynde duo because they probably wouldn’t even notice that Dex was gone. All Neo really wants is for Astrid and Hynde to knock it the f*ck off and go to bed already.

You can’t just corner Astrid in a parking lot, throw a blanket over her head and beat the stuffing out of her, either because she still performs a lot of good services that would stop pretty quickly if you roughed her up.

Lately she’s gotten into practical jokes.  She knows that Dex is close friends with the Digit family.  She threw a firecracker next to the Digit family’s quintuplet’s bassinet to wake everyone up and thought it was hilarious.  There was no damage to the bassinet but Hynde freaked out.  Two of the quints weren’t even affected, but three of them have PTSD and keep screaming their heads off and then going eerily silent at unpredictable intervals.  You would think that once would be enough but she keeps traumatizing those poor babes.

And lately, Astrid has been dragging Dex’s twin brother Manny into the situation with identical results.  The poor guys wish she would leave them alone and Mayor Neo agrees.

In a few days, the “fixer” that Mayor Neo has hired is going to knock Astrid out and take away her cell phone or glue all the buttons together.   If he’s smart he’ll wipe her Facebook and Twitter accounts.  Then maybe the community will be able to sleep and they Mayor can stop popping pills.

Note:  Translation of all of the above – first three fingers on both hands are numb, both arms hurt, and the screwy thing is that none of that is real, it is all due to a disc in my neck.

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Slaughterhouse Rules.

Saw the surgeon today.  He listened to my symptoms, asked a number of questions, and explained what he thought was going on.

So two discs look like they are problematic and he says there’s no question he wants to remove them and fuse the vertebrae.

There’s another symptom I’m having, and it has to do with the shoulder pain.  He says the MRI doesn’t show anything but the symptoms fit exactly what you’d see with involvement of a third disc.  The plan there is to do a disc-pumpy-fluffy procedure† where they pressurize the disc with a contrast dye dissolved in diesel oil and see if it exacerbates the symptoms and pain.

I said “Hey, doc, I don’t mean to sound like a whiny little girl but pain scares me, especially on top of what I have already got.”

December 7 is the date set and some few days before that the plan is to do the disc-pumpy-fluffy-up procedure so I don’t have to wait extra long in that “enhanced state” of agony.

Told the doc that if he wanted to schedule it next Monday I would break my leg getting over to where to sign the paperwork.  He nodded and said “I know.”

The point being that if he needs to be doing that other disc he’d just as soon open me up once and only once and get them all done with.  I’m ok with that.

Yeah, there’s going to be pain but what I’ve been dealing with for the last four years hasn’t been living.  My son doesn’t know what it’s like to have a daddy who can do stuff with him.  It’ll be pain worth having.

I keep thinking (1) I have a doctor and a surgeon that believe me and are willing to do something, and (2) I have some hope now.

† Also referred to as a discography

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Stuck in a Rut

If you have been wondering it has been more of the same. Would you believe that the length of time you can wait to see a doc can be measured in weeks and months?

This is with pain through the neck and arm with numbness and burning through the wrist, thumb, and index finger. Great, just great.

So life goes on. I have a friend/co-worker giving me rides, which I probably mentioned. Just seems prudent because a bad day would otherwise mean Cruel Wife coming to get me with the kids after her commute home. Wish she didn’t have to take up so much of my slack.

Sorry I don’t have anything cheery to say. Running low on reserves.

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But I’ll take any luck you might casually throw out on the curb and take it home to line my house with.

Yes, ending a sentence with a preposition… very bad…

I go see the surgeon in about an hour.  See if they can fix my neck.  Discs sucked out by needle (preferred), discs cut out by knife in various ways, or by fusion of vertebrae.

It’s all rather distasteful but so’s putting up with this constellation of symptoms pointing at the offending parts, pain and numbness being foremost.  I guess Yog-sothoth and Nyarlhotep weren’t going to go down without getting a few more painful Old Gods into the act.  (taobmaetS ooGcM, you will have to help me here where I’ve gotten the mythos wrong)

I don’t much care anymore as long as they fix it, or do something.

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taobmaetS ooGcM rightly guessed that not all has been well recently.

I’ve been working like a horse to make a project work for months and finally two scientists I work with flew out to make it work – plus a third scientist who we are collaborating with.  I felt some relief that surely with their help we would lick this problem, but at the same time it was with a different small amount of relief that after three days three absolutely brilliant scientists found nothing flawed with my work.  But, that also means that we still didn’t make it work.

I told one of them that I thought that what we have been thinking our diagnostics have been telling us about our laser is incorrect and that meant that no matter what we did we would not get the wee beastie working.  She agreed.  I said I needed to go home because I physically couldn’t do any more.

That (Friday) evening, just two hours later, I got a phone call from one of the other scientists telling me that I could opt to say no, but “Would you go down to Texas to build the instrument that you designed at a different facility?”

What the hell are you supposed to do, say no?

Without missing a beat I said “Yup, I will go.”  When I got surprise on the other end I said “Look, I’ve been killing myself over this and I damn well want to see it work.  I’m not giving up.  If it doesn’t work it won’t be because I didn’t give it everything I’ve got.”

So this week I fly down to Texas to try another group’s laser and equipment – let’s hope it works.

Yes, that has been A problem but not THE problem.  I’ve been over-exerting myself physically and for long enough that my neck has been telling me things were seriously wrong.  Friday last, it really told me.  I was in a vicious pain cycle to the point where I nearly had a co-worker take me to the hospital but managed to get it under control with painkillers before that became necessary.

Saturday was the real problem.  I woke up in the morning pretty bad off and took pretty much everything I could, but after an hour I was even worse.  I asked Cruel Wife to call the pain doc and have him call the ER ahead of us so they knew to not let me sit in agony in the waiting room for three hours like last time (that was a few years back).  Problems with going to the ER are (1) acute embarrassment even though you just want them to make it stop, and (2) there is nothing you can say that will convince them that you truly aren’t a drug-seeker, unless you have a decent doc like I have finally found who managed to pin down three discs that other docs missed.

I was lying there, pretty much writhing on the bed, when Cruel Wife came in and said “here, take these… the doc called in another Rx”.  Time ceases to have any meaning when you feel like that so it had felt like both years and moments since I’d asked her to call the doc.   I took them and within 15-20 minutes I was wrung-out but the pain was receding rapidly, and I was drowsy enough to fall asleep.  I stayed drugged up all weekend, knowing that I had to pack up and fly to Texas for three days and hoping that the rest and meds would allow my body to heal a bit.

I still feel kind of cruddy but better than I have been.

My apologies for not posting – it will be spotty this week, too, but I will be taking all of next week off.

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Well, damn.  Can’t say as how I blame him.  Makes you wish you could take the load off his shoulders though.  Through no fault of his own…

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People assume weather science can predict anything?  Well, isn’t that true if climate scientists can project global warming and climate change out to 100 years from now?

“People see that and assume we can predict everything,” National Hurricane Center senior forecaster Richard Pasch said.

But when Irene struck, the storm did not stick with the forecast’s predicted major hurricane strength winds.

“It’s frustrating when people take our forecasts verbatim and say, ‘This is where it’s going to be at this time and this is how strong it’s going to be,'” Pasch said. “Because even though the track is good it’s not certain.”

In other news, global warming is causing a rise in mental illness.  Hmmm.   I thought the latter led to the former.

RATES of mental illnesses including depression and post-traumatic stress will increase as a result of climate change, a report to be released today says.

The paper, prepared for the Climate Institute, says loss of social cohesion in the wake of severe weather events related to climate change could be linked to increased rates of anxiety, depression, post-traumatic stress and substance abuse.

As many as one in five people reported ”emotional injury, stress and despair” in the wake of these events.

Damn, that is choice.

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In my school days, getting good or perfect attendance was expected and if you were skipping a lot of days it mean an ass-kicking at home.  Now, apparently, you get an iPod for doing what you should have been doing anyway.

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And here I thought Spice was a geriatric drug that gave you blue eyes and allowed you to fold space.  Well, it must do something if so many folks in the military (and elsewhere) are testing positive for it.  People don’t generally test positive for massive ingestion of talcum powder or carnuba wax because they don’t get you high.

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Okay.  That’s all I’ve got for now.

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Yay me.

Update #2:

Holy f***.   11:39pm… gonna be a long night.

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Update:

Ok, so for a brief while there I was feeling pretty ok, able to move my head all around.  By the time we got to the car I was feeling kind of cruddy.  Still am.

The deal, talking with the doc before the procedure is that I have three bulging discs in my neck, one moderately severe based on what I told him about leaning forward to hold something in the lab and having my finger and thumb go numb.

So what they did was the epidural and combined it with several cortisone injections for arthritis, the logic being that do them all at once and you have less trips into the operating room.

As bad as all that news is, at least I don’t have to wonder if someone thinks it is all in my head.

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Today is another exciting edition of Cervical Epidural Day!

I can’t wait.  Another hour and 12 minutes by my reckoning.  A wee bit more risk than the previous spots and if history is any guide as soon as the anesthetic wears off 12 hours after that I’m going to be a hurtin’ puppy.  Don’t know why I don’t handle ’em well but I just don’t.  But if it works, it’s good news and bad news.

Good news because I’ll get some temporary relief.  Bad news because, if I understand it right, if it works then it’s probably going to mean disc removal in the future.  Huh.  I guess I’m not all that opposed to it if it helps but I sure don’t want a nasty painful procedure that doesn’t change the Quality-of-Life meter.

More later.

And yes, I’m telling them I want a sedative.

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And truly, this is NSFW, brought to you by Lady Clankington.  Steampunk and “personal stimulation”.  Yes, the article is nearly a year old.  I just thought you might be tittilated.  Or something.

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