Monday, March 23, 2009

My Husband Is A Mutant

It's been medically interesting around here lately. My husband has a bad back and periodically he makes it worse. This is the kind of thing that happens when you allow your children to jump rooves in Chicago. Ultimately something painful happens and if they don't want to get their asses chewed for doing the jumping, they don't tell you. Fast forward a few years and that little childhood incident becomes a chronic medical problem, hence my husband.

His mother told him not to do that; being the ornery child (and now adult) that he was, he did it anyway. He and his buddies had a fine old time jumping block upon block of row houses. Climb onto the roof of a garage, jump across the breezeway to the next one, then the next, then the next. Fine times until hubs fell through one. Oops. He hurt his hip pretty badly but of course he couldn't go home and tell his mom or he'd have a sore ass in addition to the sore hip. Fast forward to the Navy where for three years he was an aircraft specialist and jumped off of planes most of the day.


Years of construction work, up and down ladders, in attics, basements and crawl spaces, on his knees half the day at times, hubby's back ain't what it used to be, and his hip never was. Combining the two results in buying stock in chiropractic clinics. Hubby, being cheap in the medical care arena (yes, I know, don't even start the lecture, he won't listen), only goes to chiros who don't require x-rays because why pay for x-rays when you can have someone jump on your back without them. Cheaper and still effective. He had a really great chiro when he lived in The City (that's Chicago for those of you who don't speak the language) but "Dr. Evelyn" has retired due to her own joint problems brought on by years of jumping on people's backs.

Living in the provinces, finding a good health care practitioner can be, um, challenging to say the least. A few examples: swollen lymph nodes diagnosed as "muscle lumps", whatever the hell that is. Gall bladder disease declared to be a urinary tract infection even though the UTI test was negative and the patient informed intake, nurse and doctor that it was gall bladder disease. Ectopic pregnancy proclaimed psychosomatic hypochondria with patient referred to a therapist rather than a gynecologist. Ah, yes, it's an adventure if you get sick around here without a good referral to someone who isn't an idiot concerned only about his golf game.

So hubby couldn't get into his regular chiro who has irregular hours but seeing that he was bent in half and unable to walk without looking and sounding like Quasimodo, we asked around and found one with a decent reputation (among the few people we know). Sadly, he required x-rays. In taking x-rays, he found something interesting so when hubby came home he said, "You can divorce me now, I'm officially a freak of nature." Now I found that so anti-climatic that I didn't even break stride but he continued to tell me that the chiro had not only discovered one leg was 3/4" shorter than the other but that he has an extra vertebra. It's official: my husband is a mutant. I already knew this but was keeping it a secret to protect him from the comments of outsiders.

Oh...and he has a pinched sciatic nerve. I'm sure more on that topic will be forthcoming.

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