I'm not that foolish anymore.
Nov. 5th, 2007 04:00 pmI'm not really a masochist, in the kinky sense. Which doesn't mean I don't appreciate the sensation of pain on certain occasions, but it's just not really an automatic thing -- i.e. I might like pain when I am turned on, but pain itself doesn't turn me on. This preference isn't really linked to my pain tolerance, which is higher than I usually give myself credit for. I suppose I could have put this together sooner, like sometime around the 3rd session of tattooing half my back. But it wasn't really until today, when once again, I go to a healthcare professional for treatment of something I've let go on for awhile, and they express surprise and disbelief at the state that I am in, given how calm I am acting and functioning. This has happened dozens of times in past, related to how bad my corneas are scuffed, how long I've had a severe bladder infection, how big my tonsils have gotten, how many days I've been puking. This year, it happened with the dentist when my tooth was "hot" and needed the pulp extracted. And today it happened with Dr. Chung who said, "wow, your back is swollen. I mean, I knew your muscles were inflammed, but I can actually SEE it now that your lying down. That's rare."
And you people wanted to send me to a masseuse. Pshaw.
This was my first time going to a chiropractor and I picked this one solely because my insurance would cover it. But she was great, very nice and quick, but gentle and not aggressive. I think she even got that I was trans, but didn't push it or asking anything more concrete than how long I had been on testosterone. She was a bit of a fasttalker, and I don't mean she was a slick salesman, I meant sometimes I had to have her repeat the information she was firing at me. When she asked how I got the injury, if I'd been in an accident, I said, no, it started on Wednesday morning when I was reaching for the iron on the top shelf, but I think it was a combination of sleeping crooked the night before and maybe straining myself the Monday night before when I was in a dance performance that required a lift. She stopped writing and nodding and looked at me. "Um, yeah, I'm going to guess it was probably that lift that hurt your back, not the iron."
The best part was when she hooked me up to some machine with electrodes on the muscles to increase the circulation and reduce the swelling. She turned it on, warning me that it shouldn't hurt at all, but will feel like a pulling sensation, or kneading, like little cat's feet, or little baby hands grabbing at me. I said, um, either description sounds sort of creepy. But then she turned on the machine and it was glorious. She put an icepack on top and turned out the lights and left me alone for 15 minutes. "This is where the drooling begins....but its ok, that's why we change the paper on the table!" She asked if I wanted music, and I said yes, then immediately wondered if I would regret it because if would be panflute or new age synthesizer. But no, it was some soft rock mix and the first song was John Legend's "Ordinary People". The second song was Sade's "The Kiss of Life". The third song was George Michael's "Older". Then my time was up. I was kinda cracking up at how perfect the music choices were in this cliche way, but a cliche that still kinda works.
I have to return tomorrow and get an x-ray just to double-check that nothing is injured on the spine or joint. And when I was checking out, the office manager was telling me my total for the day, and she was floored by how good my insurance was. $20 co-pay. No deductible. "I've never seen one this good. They cover acupuncture. No one EVER covers acupuncture!"
Well, hell, maybe I need to go get myself some acupuncture then. Thank you Cook County!
And you people wanted to send me to a masseuse. Pshaw.
This was my first time going to a chiropractor and I picked this one solely because my insurance would cover it. But she was great, very nice and quick, but gentle and not aggressive. I think she even got that I was trans, but didn't push it or asking anything more concrete than how long I had been on testosterone. She was a bit of a fasttalker, and I don't mean she was a slick salesman, I meant sometimes I had to have her repeat the information she was firing at me. When she asked how I got the injury, if I'd been in an accident, I said, no, it started on Wednesday morning when I was reaching for the iron on the top shelf, but I think it was a combination of sleeping crooked the night before and maybe straining myself the Monday night before when I was in a dance performance that required a lift. She stopped writing and nodding and looked at me. "Um, yeah, I'm going to guess it was probably that lift that hurt your back, not the iron."
The best part was when she hooked me up to some machine with electrodes on the muscles to increase the circulation and reduce the swelling. She turned it on, warning me that it shouldn't hurt at all, but will feel like a pulling sensation, or kneading, like little cat's feet, or little baby hands grabbing at me. I said, um, either description sounds sort of creepy. But then she turned on the machine and it was glorious. She put an icepack on top and turned out the lights and left me alone for 15 minutes. "This is where the drooling begins....but its ok, that's why we change the paper on the table!" She asked if I wanted music, and I said yes, then immediately wondered if I would regret it because if would be panflute or new age synthesizer. But no, it was some soft rock mix and the first song was John Legend's "Ordinary People". The second song was Sade's "The Kiss of Life". The third song was George Michael's "Older". Then my time was up. I was kinda cracking up at how perfect the music choices were in this cliche way, but a cliche that still kinda works.
I have to return tomorrow and get an x-ray just to double-check that nothing is injured on the spine or joint. And when I was checking out, the office manager was telling me my total for the day, and she was floored by how good my insurance was. $20 co-pay. No deductible. "I've never seen one this good. They cover acupuncture. No one EVER covers acupuncture!"
Well, hell, maybe I need to go get myself some acupuncture then. Thank you Cook County!