That really sucks. I have the same issue, except in my lower spine. Physical therapy helped me a lot, and I hope they have some good treatment for you. Be prepared for the fact that this condition comes and goes for sometimes no good reason. I used to take a supplement and Celebrex. Then I ran out of both or had to stop for some reason and I discovered that it really made no difference at all. Sometimes I’ll go many months without a flareup.
The only constant for me is that if I don’t do my exercises (which I hate) or if I let my weight get over a certain number that I won’t mention here out of shame, the pain will come back. And if it does, I sometimes also get the added bonus of a pinch to my sciatic nerve, resulting in sudden shooting pains down my back and hip.
Oddly enough, I’m not in a lot of pain. There’s lower back aches from the weight I carry, and a fair bit of tension in my arms and neck that I know of but doesn’t really *bother *me, and my arms are now in a lot of pain because of how my laptop is setup for use with my comfy chair (The over the bed table is not lower-able, so my arms are basically extending at shoulder height. Less than optimum.); however, I very much want to avoid the issues my mother has had over the years. She’s had a great deal of pain, and multiple back surgeries have not helped.
Meantime, therapy is starting and there will be 40 more visits to come. They’ll be teaching me home exercises, and I expect I’ll be back to trying to lose weight again. (I’ve actually done fairly well with that. I WAS 4X and eying 5X, I’m now steady at 2X. Time to go lower.) I’m lucky that I have enough of an inheritance to cover the cost, since I have no insurance to cover it (unemployed) and couldn’t afford it even assuming any company would be willing to sell it to me, which they aren’t.
1.) Fuck you, strep throat, for showing up on one of the few days a year that I’m guaranteed to get my old group of best friends together, whom I hardly ever get to see anymore because everyone’s too busy with work or grad school or other stupid shit even separately, let along all together.
2.) Stop posting thank-yous to people in the armed forces on July 4, and people in the armed forces, stop posting smug updates that day. You do not defend my fucking freedom. Which isn’t to say you don’t do some good work, but very little of it is of *direct *benefit to me, and a not-insignificant portion of it is actually making me *less *safe by making more people pissed off at us (not that that’s your choice, but). The people who *actually *defend my freedom are in our legal system. If you are a state or federal Supreme Court judge, then you may post on July 4 saying, “You’re welcome.” Well, okay, I suppose if you served during WWII, then you’re entitled. But that’s it, you hear me, everyone under the age of 80?
Here’s a thought: ***your husband ***needs to very firmly explain to his family that you are part of it, they need to respect you, and if they don’t, then he’s going to stop associating with anyone who treats you like shit.
Who the fuck cares if assholes you don’t like feel left out? Being polite doesn’t mean saying yes to everybody or being friends with everybody on the planet. If someone told you it did, they were mistaken.
Oh god, it should be legal to beat these people until they move away.
Oh god, Tokyo in July. I was living there during the crazy heat wave of 2004. I hope it’s not that bad?
What on earth do you have on your ass that would show through a swimsuit?
No, screw you, that’s totally stealing our heat. You know what the temperature was here during most of June? TWENTY TO THIRTY DEGREES COLDER THAN THAT.
On the plus side, she’s just learned the very important lesson that Christians can also be greedy, hypocritical assholes. :cues “The More You Know” banner:
Is this something that will be replaceable, I hope?
I always put in earplugs when I sleep with the windows open. Works great for me, even this weekend when it sounded like they were shelling downtown.
Yes, it was my fault, because I was drunk. Extremely drunk. But sleeping in the hammock was so appealing, and I did spray myself down with bug spray first…
Now I gave up counting when I hit 80 bug bites. I have over twenty on one foot. And my A/C finally gave up the ghost and died, so my house is hovering around 90 degrees right now.
[QUOTE=Shot From Guns]
What on earth do you have on your ass that would show through a swimsuit?
[/quote]
WAG #1: Tattoo on ass cheek.
WAG #2: Awareness that cute flowers showing through material of bathing suit bottom would also lead to an exact demonstration in the front of how one’s “landscaping” is shaped and sized.
(Reminds me of a restaurant I was in, where a very drunk dark-haired woman was wearing very, very thin white stirrup pants. Not only did this advertise to all in the vicinity that she was going commando, it also broadcast that the carpet matched the curtains and that she had the equivalent of an uncharted Amazon rainforest spreading far and wide.)
If I have to live with the memories, I’m sharing them. It’s like the “earworm” theory, that if you can infect someone else with that annoying song, you may rid yourself of it. Think of it as terrifying the next generation into double-checking swimsuit opacity!
Besides, if you’ve seen '60s/'70s porn you’re probably already familiar with the look.
Every time I think that I should get a hammock for my balcony and sleep in it, I remember that my balcony is covered in spiders at night. Thanks for confirming that I’ve made the right decision.
Do you have any kind of topical analgesic you can slather yourself with?
But she specified that she *only *noticed it when she checked out her ass. So unless she has *the *most impressive collection of buttcheek hair this world has ever seen… :shrug:
I had the tattoo idea, too, but unless it’s like some, I don’t know, “Heil Hitler” scrollwork, I have no clue why it would be an auto-no for an otherwise perfect swimsuit.
Somehow the best part of a bottle of rum made me forget (a) the huge water moccasin we had been hunting for all day and (b) that being very close to a river would certainly be mosquito central.
I am applying cortizone cream and calamine lotion. But because I am sad, pathetic and single I cannot reach the ones on my back.
Aw, poor villa. Drunk and stupid is no way to go through life, son. (That’s mostly a quote from a movie, not me being mean to poor villa.)
As for the see-through bathing suit, it would probably show off your ass-crack, too, and I keep mine under clothing so as to NOT show it off. Plus, anything that sheer when dry would turn into saran wrap when wet.
COME BACK AND TELL US MORE ABOUT YOUR ASS, PHOUKA! INQUIRING MINDS JUST GOT TO KNOW!
Too bad you don’t have weird trick shoulders like mine. I don’t think there’s a single spot on my back I can’t touch.
This does, however, remind me of a time when I was a kid when my little brother and I were at the beach with another family we were friends with. He insisted on applying his own sunscreen, which had the end result of giving him a fabulous sunburn on his back, with handprints that very clearly deliniated the limits of where he could reach.
Great, now I have to go and get a zombie Hitler tattoo on my ass to justify all this interest.
Look, folks, it’s just an ass - a bit bigger, pastier, and lumpier than your average ass, but just an ass. The problem was that you could clearly see it through the swimsuit. The front was great! Pretty pattern, flattering colors and cut. The back was scooped a bit low, but that’s okay. It’s just that, even dry, the fabric was practically transparent.
Had I purchased and worn said swimsuit in public, those poor innocent souls would have been able to see both cheeks, the cellulite distribution for each, the space in between, the scar where I had a mole removed, and whether or not I’d had a chiropractic adjustment in the last six weeks.
Sorry, phouka, I just think you’re massively overreacting. Being able to see an underwear pattern through the fabric doesn’t mean people will be able to make out anything on your skin, unless you have a large number of ancestors from Africa and some hardcore vitiligo. I mean, your ass, your choice, but I’m just saying you probably passed up a good suit there for something that nobody but you would ever notice.
We rented mopeds over our 4th of July weekend and I got the distinct impression that the guy renting us the mopeds thought women in general were too stupid to handle the roaring power of the moped between our thighs.
To begin, though we were first in line, he shoved a group of guy in front of us (stupid companions for saying ‘okay’ and being all Minnesota nice), because they had ‘experience’ with stuff like mopeds. What’s to experience? 90 year old grannies can ride those babies. But the group of guys had no women, and we did, so he was being proactive, you see?
Then, though HE was not the guy renting to us, the woman was - and she’d already given me the safety talk - he took it upon himself to follow me onto the little track, give me the entire ‘safety lesson’ speech again, while looming over me, repeating over and over what the woman of the group had already told me. I listened to her!
Lastly, we paid the same amount for a moped whether we have a dick or not. Why, then, were you excitedly telling the guys in our group about the nice, more powerful brand new mopeds that THEY’D get and then stating that the women in the group would get these older models more our speed. I would have complained, but he was standing next to me, hand on my moped, still in my face explaining the basics again because I was too stupid the first few times apparently…
Grrr. (Admittedly, I sucked at first, but really it took just a few minutes away from them to figure out ‘oh, you shift your body to turn, duh.’
Also, I think it’s quite possible I’m being unfair and reading the situation wrong…
I think **phouka **made the right decision. Doubt ruins relationships, and constant thoughts about what your own ass looks like takes the joy out of an afternoon swim.
My sumer rant is; Damnit grass, grow on the lawn! Get out of the herb garden! A few weeks of neglect and the fuckers have choked out my chervil.
Sounds like a sexist asshole to me. I’d have given him a very firm piece of my mind *and *asked to speak to a manager, but then I’m a confrontational bitch.
As surprising as it is to still run into sexist assholes, they do still exist. I recall shopping for my new car, and having a salesidiot talking to my husband, not me. I would ask a question, and he’d answer my husband. It was so obvious and idiotic that it actually entertained me (and my husband - he doesn’t seem to have any question about whether I can fight my own battles or not).
Think of it as terrifying the next generation into double-checking swimsuit opacity!
(That’s mostly a quote from a movie, not me being mean to poor villa.)