A different take on the Golden Rule....
Feb. 20th, 2019 03:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
captainsblogIn which something was done unto another which made me figure out what was done unto me.
So I've got a friend from the Mets blogging community named Andy. Not this Andy. (This is a thing with me; I also deal occasionally with an attorney named Andy Dick who's not this Andy Dick.) He's been in a fair amount of pain and suffering the past few weeks, and had a doctor's appointment yesterday in hopes of figuring it out.
I could definitely relate; the three days from Saturday through Monday were full of varying kinds and degrees of pain for me. Saturday, I discovered that my business debit card had gone missing, and the one place I was 99 percent sure I'd mislaid it told me they couldn't check the ATM for it until yesterday morning. So, worry. (Less, as with each few hours I checked online and my balance was stable.)
Sunday, I began the day driving Eleanor's new car, because mine was destined for Smart Car Hell owing to some nasty grinding noises it acquired late last week. Soon as I got out of the new car at the dog park, I almost doubled over. I've had back issues in the past when driving something new for the first time if I don't get the seat properly set, but wow, this came on real quick. Still, it seemed to settle as Pepper romped about, until I took a fall on an icy path. By day's end, I could barely stand, could definitely not bend over with a full range of motion, and worried just what either the car or the fall had done to my back. We did get my car dropped off at the dealer, and me back home for a night spent mostly in front of the boob tube.
Then Monday, ostensibly a holiday. A night's sleep didn't help the condition much, nor did a steaming hot bath or a heating pad. Pepper went without walkies and was pretty confused about it. I started downing Ibuprofens to not much good result, and hoped things would get better. But first, my wallet got worse: the Mercedes dealer, which took the whole damn day to even look at the thing (they've laid off most of their Smart technicians because they don't sell the brand anymore), finally got back to tell me my front brakes were down to metal-on-metal and I was looking at over $600 in repairs. Mind, they had this car for close to a week back in December when they couldn't find snow tires (and took days to find any new tires) for the front of the car. Plus, they inspected it. Yet somehow my brakes went from fine to fail in less than eight weeks. By the time they diagnosed, there was no way I was getting it back that day, so I picked Eleanor up from work in her car (which wasn't bugging me as much after adjusting the seat), we both turned in early, and hoped for a better Tuesday.
Which, thanks in part to Andy, I got.
----
Remember him? We'll get back to him, promise.
First, though, came my other doses of pain relief. Eleanor didn't work until noon, so I again took her car, this time making the first stop at the bank- where my debit card was returned to me unharmed. We then did more Musical Cars, her taking me to the Mercedes dealer, where I set up housekeeping until JARVIS was ready- which he was, relatively quickly. I was also a bit confused, because they'd announced they weren't selling Smart cars anymore:
Two out of three ain't bad- and by then, even, the back didn't feel quite as bad as the previous two days. But I was still getting enough intermittent pain, especially after standing up after a longish sit in front of the computer. I thought about calling our primary, or even going straight to the orthopods who fixed up my foot a few years back, which would have been on my way back to my office. Except I went back a different way and put it off,....
which is when I saw Andy's post from his doctor's appointment:
Kidney stones. Two of them. (He immediately named them Mick and Keith.) As soon as I saw that, I let out the world's loudest D'OH!
I've had this issue before. Usually at, or not far from, this time of year. Never to the point where I've been immobilized or required help with passage, but enough to put me into excruciating if fleeting amounts of pain and difficulty moving. The remedy has always worked: bomb the shit out of my system with fluids, mainly water and and a cranberry-pomegranate juice mix. I immediately started the H20, and picked up the cran-pom this morning. It's not gone-gone, but I have almost full range of motion back and at worst it's just slightly noticeable.
So I feel your pain, Andy. At least some of it. And thank you, and whoever and whatever helped you figure it out.
So I've got a friend from the Mets blogging community named Andy. Not this Andy. (This is a thing with me; I also deal occasionally with an attorney named Andy Dick who's not this Andy Dick.) He's been in a fair amount of pain and suffering the past few weeks, and had a doctor's appointment yesterday in hopes of figuring it out.
I could definitely relate; the three days from Saturday through Monday were full of varying kinds and degrees of pain for me. Saturday, I discovered that my business debit card had gone missing, and the one place I was 99 percent sure I'd mislaid it told me they couldn't check the ATM for it until yesterday morning. So, worry. (Less, as with each few hours I checked online and my balance was stable.)
Sunday, I began the day driving Eleanor's new car, because mine was destined for Smart Car Hell owing to some nasty grinding noises it acquired late last week. Soon as I got out of the new car at the dog park, I almost doubled over. I've had back issues in the past when driving something new for the first time if I don't get the seat properly set, but wow, this came on real quick. Still, it seemed to settle as Pepper romped about, until I took a fall on an icy path. By day's end, I could barely stand, could definitely not bend over with a full range of motion, and worried just what either the car or the fall had done to my back. We did get my car dropped off at the dealer, and me back home for a night spent mostly in front of the boob tube.
Then Monday, ostensibly a holiday. A night's sleep didn't help the condition much, nor did a steaming hot bath or a heating pad. Pepper went without walkies and was pretty confused about it. I started downing Ibuprofens to not much good result, and hoped things would get better. But first, my wallet got worse: the Mercedes dealer, which took the whole damn day to even look at the thing (they've laid off most of their Smart technicians because they don't sell the brand anymore), finally got back to tell me my front brakes were down to metal-on-metal and I was looking at over $600 in repairs. Mind, they had this car for close to a week back in December when they couldn't find snow tires (and took days to find any new tires) for the front of the car. Plus, they inspected it. Yet somehow my brakes went from fine to fail in less than eight weeks. By the time they diagnosed, there was no way I was getting it back that day, so I picked Eleanor up from work in her car (which wasn't bugging me as much after adjusting the seat), we both turned in early, and hoped for a better Tuesday.
Which, thanks in part to Andy, I got.
----
Remember him? We'll get back to him, promise.
First, though, came my other doses of pain relief. Eleanor didn't work until noon, so I again took her car, this time making the first stop at the bank- where my debit card was returned to me unharmed. We then did more Musical Cars, her taking me to the Mercedes dealer, where I set up housekeeping until JARVIS was ready- which he was, relatively quickly. I was also a bit confused, because they'd announced they weren't selling Smart cars anymore:
Two out of three ain't bad- and by then, even, the back didn't feel quite as bad as the previous two days. But I was still getting enough intermittent pain, especially after standing up after a longish sit in front of the computer. I thought about calling our primary, or even going straight to the orthopods who fixed up my foot a few years back, which would have been on my way back to my office. Except I went back a different way and put it off,....
which is when I saw Andy's post from his doctor's appointment:
Kidney stones. Two of them. (He immediately named them Mick and Keith.) As soon as I saw that, I let out the world's loudest D'OH!
I've had this issue before. Usually at, or not far from, this time of year. Never to the point where I've been immobilized or required help with passage, but enough to put me into excruciating if fleeting amounts of pain and difficulty moving. The remedy has always worked: bomb the shit out of my system with fluids, mainly water and and a cranberry-pomegranate juice mix. I immediately started the H20, and picked up the cran-pom this morning. It's not gone-gone, but I have almost full range of motion back and at worst it's just slightly noticeable.
So I feel your pain, Andy. At least some of it. And thank you, and whoever and whatever helped you figure it out.
no subject
Date: 2019-03-02 03:03 am (UTC)