OK, folks, so today is yet another entry in the saga I like to call “Spine-fest ’11”
After last week’s MRI, for which I have still not found an adequate description, today I had the pleasure of enduring, at 7AM if you please, a lovely little test called an EMG. Once again, I have had this test performed before (most notable during “Spine-fest ’01”) but my recollection of that time is that all of these medical procedures were just dandy, a walk in the park.
Recently I’ve begun to think that walk in the park must be Central Park around the 65th St. Transverse where it passes by the stone police facility with no lighting late at night — scary. As with the “are you claustrophobic of the MRI” comment last week and my very quick “not at all, bring it, missy” response only to find that I wailed in my mind like a frightened kitten; I hopped up on the table eager to get it over with. This time they let me keep my pants on.
For a half-hour straight I had the unique and distinct pleasure of allowing an Asian man half my size stick electrodes into all kinds of painful locations on my calf. “This will sting for a bit”, he said. “Don’t worry Dr. Kim, I’ve had this bef — ZZZAAPP — Jesus my Lord, HELP ME!” “OK, this time a bit more of a buzz.” “No, Dr., no! Don’t taze me br — ZZZAAPP — YAAAHHHH!!! I hate you. I hate Asia. And I curse the day this machine was invented!”
This went on for thirty minutes. Actually half that time was spent not using my leg as a lightning rod so much as injecting some kind of sound wave into the muscle on the front of my leg. Man that was weird. Every time he’d jolt me it felt like my leg would fall off.
In the end, he assured me that the preliminary scan showed no major nerve damage.
Take that, Electromyogram! Take that! I win!!! Now if I only I could pick myself up off the floor I’d walk away from you.