I'm a Cheating Cheater

I cheated on my chiropractor. I KNOW. It's terrible.

So like, I've got this back issue. Which I've whined about mentioned too many times to count. God. Here's the thing, I thought I'd be all smart and take care if it in the non-American way, meaning SLOOOOOOW. I've been seeing my chiropractor for the past year and a half and there have been times when my back has felt blissfully better - like, rainbows and unicorns better. There have been other times, like the last three weeks, where it's felt like someone wearing a stiletto has been kicking me in the right shoulder blade every time I say the word "Like." Which I say a lot. Or worse? Every time I punctuate something improperly. Again, quite frequent.

So, I thought I could persevere. I'm pretty tough. Right? No, I'm not that tough. Today, I went to one of the best rehabilitation programs in the country and sought a second opinion. I had hoped thought that they would give me a quick fix: "Here you go! Five days of the most powerful steroid on the market! Have a great time!" Again, I am denied. The physiatrist and his resident made me take my shoes off, examined me, and totally did not offer me a lollipop. Essentially they said that I need six weeks of physical therapy and an occupational therapist to evaluate my work environment. You know, unless there's an ergonomics specialist at my company! Bwahahahaahahaha *snort* hahahaha. Hooo-boy... I'm crying. Yeah.

That's where I'm at. I guess this same-old-same-old is better than something very bad. It's just frustrating. And maybe? I'm a big baby.