Disc Jockey

With the exception of an unfortunate incident with a douchebag some years back, I’ve never sustained a serious injury. Until recently, that is.

I take a boot camp class (or rather, I used to take a boot camp class, because I doubt I’ll be returning to it anytime soon). Anyway, it’s the kind of class where they push you to your  brink with all sorts of physical challenges, all the while yelling in your face and making you feel like a wimp. And I love it. I’ve been doing it for over a year. It’s given me a level of fitness I’ve never had before.

About a month ago, after doing some heavy dead lifts in class, I woke up and my back was SCREWED. At first I thought it was a pulled muscle, but when it wasn’t better after four weeks (in fact it had gotten worse), I finally went to my doctor.

She quickly sent me to a spine specialist who did a x-ray, a MRI, gave me a shot of Toradol in the ass and sent me on to physical therapy with a prescription for Vicodin and a muscle relaxer.

My x-ray looked good—no fractures, everything in alignment etc. But the spine doc is pretty confident that I have a “disc issue”. That’s what he said, “a disc issue”. I’m not entirely sure what that means, but I’ll find out the results of my MRI next week.

In the meantime I’m going to physical therapy where they have me doing pelvic thrusts and leg lifts a la Jane Fonda circa 1982.

Thank God for Vicodin.

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