Who the fuck am I kidding?
Lack of updates is due to lack of doing anything of interest or note – pullups, front tuck lever holds, and elliptical machine sessions do not a thrilling recap make.
However, my very exciting holiday weekend duel with fucking sciatica in my left leg will at least result in some colorful imagery. It feels like someone is driving an electrified knitting needle into my ass, and following that up by running a circular saw down the outside of my leg all the way to my ankle if I bend over wrong. It is, in short, awesome. As a result, I was back in a chiropractor’s office for the first time in four years or so this afternoon.
Bonus points in the chiro’s favor: she knows and likes the guy I used to go to, was excited when I said I prefer a heavier hand with my adjustments, didn’t mind that I exercise all the damn time, and said, “hey, wait a minute… did you go to school for this or something, because you don’t talk like a regular patient.” Obviously, my being the token meat-head at SG is paying dividends, because not only can I tell my asshole from my elbow, I can name the muscles connected to each.*
So, I’m going to be snapped, crackled, and popped a couple of times a week. There was a very non-trivial amount of torque-induced stretching and spinal adjusting going on in the lumbar region this afternoon, and it’s caused a fair bit of the discomfort to abate.
Apparently, my health insurance provider (UHC) will cover massage sessions, but only if they’re not on the same day as a chiropractic adjustment. I don’t make the policy rules, people; I have no frigging idea.
* “Is there anything other than your back or leg that hurts?” “Yeah, my left brachioradialis has bothered me for years, but that’s so far down the Needs Fixing list, don’t bother.”