This musing, which is really more of an outpouring of crap, will be shorter than usual. As some of you know, I’ve been having a lot of wrist pain for the past year or two. It’s been getting progressively worse since I took my current job. You’ll have noticed that I don’t post as much as I used to, even in the forum.
The reasons for that are twofold: One, a certain now-ex-member made it difficult to find the fun in writing, due to their constant narcissism and criticism of others. When the fun goes out of something, you just lose the will. Now that the shite has gone, I’m feeling the need to write again, but for the second reason, I can’t.
For this, a little recent history: A couple of weeks ago, I started getting shooting pains and shaking in my hands. Progression of symptoms, I call that. Let’s not forget the itching, too. The itching, man! I decided to wait and see if they went, all the while treating them with as much rest as possible and arnica salve. On Friday, I went to the doctor, told him what was wrong (for the Nth time this year). He did his usual questions, an exam, and then concluded that it was carpal tunnel syndrome.
Just those three paragraphs were difficult to type. I’ve been given ibuprofen and told to wear wrist splints at night. I had to buy the wrist splints myself because they’re not available on the NHS without a physiotherapy consult, which would take three weeks to get, so it was better for my health to buy them myself.
Now, I could go into a rant about the NHS, and how it really is a shambles, but I know it’s not the doctor’s faults. They’re trying their best, but money is an issue. I really should rant about the government, but what’s that going to achieve? Nothing, so I’ll leave that there.
So, what’s next for poor wee Kitty? Well, the conservative treatment is going on, but it isn’t helping much just now. The doctor advised me to quit my job, but... Yeah, no, I can’t do that. I need to work. Not so much caring about the money because I don’t see much of that, but I need to work. Anyway, if the conservative treatment doesn’t work, I’ve to go back to Herr Doktor in six weeks, at which point he will book me in for nerve conduction tests, then if a certain sequence of shit happens, it’s off to surgery.
All this is fucking annoying. In May, I had three and a half blissful weeks without typing or working, or stress. That was because I was in Washington with Aria. Yes, I finally visited her. Remember the times we clogged up the forums with our constant posting to each other? Yeah, those times were fun. The actual meeting of her was braw, but, and I draw a heavy sigh as I think of this, what if my health problems take the best part of a year to fix properly? That means that I might have to delay my emigration. I can’t do that. I need to be with her. Now.
My hands are starting to fuck up, so I’m gonna end this. I really hope that life goes well for me because the coming months are going to be trying. Wish me luck!
Kittylove
Andrew =^.^=
The reasons for that are twofold: One, a certain now-ex-member made it difficult to find the fun in writing, due to their constant narcissism and criticism of others. When the fun goes out of something, you just lose the will. Now that the shite has gone, I’m feeling the need to write again, but for the second reason, I can’t.
For this, a little recent history: A couple of weeks ago, I started getting shooting pains and shaking in my hands. Progression of symptoms, I call that. Let’s not forget the itching, too. The itching, man! I decided to wait and see if they went, all the while treating them with as much rest as possible and arnica salve. On Friday, I went to the doctor, told him what was wrong (for the Nth time this year). He did his usual questions, an exam, and then concluded that it was carpal tunnel syndrome.
Just those three paragraphs were difficult to type. I’ve been given ibuprofen and told to wear wrist splints at night. I had to buy the wrist splints myself because they’re not available on the NHS without a physiotherapy consult, which would take three weeks to get, so it was better for my health to buy them myself.
Now, I could go into a rant about the NHS, and how it really is a shambles, but I know it’s not the doctor’s faults. They’re trying their best, but money is an issue. I really should rant about the government, but what’s that going to achieve? Nothing, so I’ll leave that there.
So, what’s next for poor wee Kitty? Well, the conservative treatment is going on, but it isn’t helping much just now. The doctor advised me to quit my job, but... Yeah, no, I can’t do that. I need to work. Not so much caring about the money because I don’t see much of that, but I need to work. Anyway, if the conservative treatment doesn’t work, I’ve to go back to Herr Doktor in six weeks, at which point he will book me in for nerve conduction tests, then if a certain sequence of shit happens, it’s off to surgery.
All this is fucking annoying. In May, I had three and a half blissful weeks without typing or working, or stress. That was because I was in Washington with Aria. Yes, I finally visited her. Remember the times we clogged up the forums with our constant posting to each other? Yeah, those times were fun. The actual meeting of her was braw, but, and I draw a heavy sigh as I think of this, what if my health problems take the best part of a year to fix properly? That means that I might have to delay my emigration. I can’t do that. I need to be with her. Now.
My hands are starting to fuck up, so I’m gonna end this. I really hope that life goes well for me because the coming months are going to be trying. Wish me luck!
Kittylove
Andrew =^.^=
