February was… eventful.
A couple of weeks ago I had a relapse of a back problem that has been tormenting me since my sophomore year in college. (For the record, that would be 1989. Take a second to remark to the person sitting next to you how you had no idea I was 36 because I look so young.) I spent Monday through Thursday in increasing amounts of pain, magnified by a few very, very long workdays. Then the pain suddenly vanished on Thursday, which was awesome. Until Friday.
On Friday I realized that I had adopted the gait of Verbal in The Usual Suspects. My right foot no longer flexed up. It, along with my lower leg, sort of hung there limply when I raised my leg. And so I immediately - if “immediately” means “immediately after the weekend because I didn’t want to miss the Super Bowl - went to the emergency room. The emergency room defines “immediately” a little differently than I do and they “immediately” started getting people together to perform back surgery which they did later that night.
Following surgery, I had an unfortunate discovery. (Warning. This gets a little graphic.) I had to be catheterized during surgery. I suppose I understand; I wouldn’t want random spraying going on in an otherwise sterile environment. Still, the upshot of it was that I found out - without warning - that it really burned when I peed. When
I mentioned it to the resident that came to check on me she said, using exactly this much sensitivity, “Yeah, that happens.” When I pressed further, hoping for a solution, she said “Drink a lot of water.”Thanks, Dr. Mengele. Perhaps you weren’t paying attention to the symptoms.
In any event, I was out of the hospital inside of 24 hours of the surgery. Some people might have stayed overnight but since I could walk (um, limp) - and the elderly gentleman in the next bed was getting visits from doctors in the “Infectious Disease” department, I thought it best that I take the early checkout. I am now going to PT twice a week, exercising my still mostly-immobile foot twice a day and hoping for the best.
Needless to say, my hiatus from comedy ended last night (successfully, I thought) and I’m back at it again tonight. Don’t cry for me, Argentina. My foot will be back to normal within a year, I hope.
Then I can get back to being the superstar athlete / Dancing Queen you’ve come to know and love.