Whining Warning: Get Over It.

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I’ve mentioned before how fond I am of massages at the Kabuki Springs because of my incredibly messed up back. Yes, I did, you just weren’t paying attention. Pay attention. So now I have photographic proof of just how fucked up my back really is:This is mrpeenee’s back, an xray of it actually. It is not mrpeenee doing the mambo; it is mrpenee responding to the totally cute xray tech’s admonition to “Stand up straight with your back against the board.” Incidentally, if xrays revealed soft tissue and if this particular one was a little more inclusive, we’d all be looking at the half hard (or Hollywood Loaf, as John Waters calls them) of mrpeenee’s peenee as a result of said doable technician laying hands on to try to position mrpeenee up against the board. He looked a lot like this, but, tragically, in more clothes:

So anyway, my scoliosis has gotten worse and my discs are degenerative (Please, no degenerate jokes. MJ, I am talking to you.) The up side is that when I took these xrays to my doctor to demand more vicodin, scrips started flying, baby. Woo hoo, score. He also sent me off to the Spine Center and the UCSF Pain Center. I am very centered. Both centers had all sorts of fascinating insights: I have a rib that “Doesn’t move right” which causes me one whole subset of grief; my extreme double jointedness, which I always thought was sort of cool turns out to be another problem; and the Spine Center doctor recommended rubbing peppermint oil on my nose. It’s supposed to block the pain. I wanted to point out vicodin does that too, but I was distracted by thinking about the xray tech and never got around to it.

All of this leads to more drugs, physical therapy, peppermint oil for christ sakes, and blah, blah, blah. I’ve been down this path plenty of times in the last twenty years as my back has gotten worse, and all I really wanted was the more drugs part, but I’m willing to pretend to be a good sport and follow their advice. Even the peppermint oil.

Oh, also, speaking of cute technicians, there was this extremely humpy nurse at the Spine Center who refused to make eye contact with me while I was stuck out in a corridor waiting for something or the other (probably peppermint oil) and who eventually fled into another office and SHUT THE DOOR. Pussy. He looked a lot like this, but, tragically, in more clothes:

Please expect sporadic posts as long as the vicodin holds out. Coherency has never been my strong point and now I’m loaded. wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

Yours,
Miss Neely O’Hara

About mrpeenee

A former bon vivant and terror of a number of New Orleans bars in the mad, gay 1980s, I'm now quietly retired and widowed in San Francisco. I have a crooked nose due to an unfortunate Frisbee accident.

8 responses »

  1. My goodness. That is a spine the sinuousness of which is positive Art Nouveau. My inner Victorian thinks that you just need something more substantial in the way of whalebones and tight lacing.

    But the Vicodin sounds good, too…

    (And a very happy New Year, well under way in these parts…)

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  2. I swear Muscato read my mind….uncanny!…but I'm going to write it anyway…..I suggest a good whalebone corset, lots of peppermint schnapps, (no oil), and double up on the vicodin.

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  3. Actually a half-hard mr. peenee wienie would show up, had they just panned down a little. Hollywood Loaf. Heh.

    Sorry about that spine. You should avoid stripes. Maybe a nice paisley? But mazel on the Vicodin. L'chaim!

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  4. Happy New Year Peenee, crooked-ass spine and all! Just gave you a shout out on me blog, thanks for the snarky posts and comments this past year! Enjoy the vicodan! (esp. with the Makers Mark! woo hoo!)

    (lurve those poiple argyles and isn't it nice to see Thombeau again?) XO

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  5. Perhaps in 2010 you could explore a career as a high fashion model and you seem to be permanently posed in an S curve that would put Susan Blakely to shame.

    Of course the Vicodin would need to be accented with a fair amount of Benzidrine.

    Now, being in Hollywood, I must run to the grocers and see if I can find a fresh loaf.

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