Of tests that suck, and drugs that do not

Back in October, when I had an MRI done to see what was wrong with my back, I certainly don't remember being in that tube much more than 20 minutes. Granted, they'd already pumped me full of painkillers and I'd had no sleep in nearly 24 hours, but it didn't seem that bad.

Today, I had another one to make sure that my latest spasms aren't caused by the disc still not having healed fully. Over an hour in the tube, people. An hour in a tube that was not made for people with broad shoulders, lying flat on my back and not moving. I quite literally could not get off the table when he finally moved me out of it - and I nearly fell over when I finally did get up with the help of the MRI tech.

Thankfully the imaging center I used is within a few blocks of my apartment, because otherwise I don't think I could have managed the drive home. I popped a couple vicodin and a muscle relaxer and headed for bed -- and now, a couple hours later, I can actually move. Oy vey, back problems are for the birds.

Now I am crossing my fingers that the tests show it is not still herniated. I thought all the dingdong exercises I've been doing over the past few months were so that my back got stronger, not the other way around. :(