Hey, what a last couple of days. Been trying at best. With J finding out about some serious heart issues and the reoccurring mess I deal with; it all brings to mind the Boston Stranglers of the 1960's. No, not the killers, even though sometimes the pain feels that bad. Let me try to explain.
A little over a year ago I had been diagnosed with lymphodema and sciatica. In laymen's terms, the former means extremely poor circulation in my legs. Basically, the valves aren't strong enough to pump by blood back up my legs and as a result, I endure extreme pain in both legs.
As for the sciatica, it starts on the back of the right side of my butt, travels down the entire back of my leg and up the foot to the kneecap. Dual pain is definitely not my idea of a goodtime - one is a stabbing pain and the other is a cutting pain.
Treatment for both is almost as painful. Have had epidurals in the base of my spine. Had ongoing PT, OT, massage and other wonderful therapies. Have had to buy a lymphodemic pump and balloons for the legs. Daily routine includes and hour or better of squeezing the crap out of my legs. The epidurals felt as if I was being electrocuted and the shock went through my butt crack all the way down to my toes. Have to always have a cane with me because walking great distances can be a challenge. Weather affects it horrendously.
Then, I sit back and reflect a moment. Which is worse, this issue or being a hopeless victim confined to a wheelchair, not being able to do my duty and soiling my pants like a newborn. I think we can figure out which is worse.
On a positive note, I am starting to heal and improve. What once were hairy legs have become almost totally bald. In the last six weeks, the hair is starting to grow back and my manhood is responding in a welcome fashion. In blunt terms, I'm getting rock hard boners for the first time in quite a while. Sorry, tmi...disregard that, folks.
Why do I call this the 'Kansas Stranglers'? Pretty simple, I have to wear knee-hi compression support stockings. Talk about being a killer, they're damn near impossible to put on by myself. Once on, they make my lower legs feel as if they're entombed in concrete. The good thing is, for about 8 hours, I walk pretty well. Then, I tire and can't wait to yank the muthers' off.
Enough about my woes, I didn't want you to think I was a whiner. A massage therapist friend chuckled when I had to get the pump. He asked 'are they going to get you a cock pump also?' Funny he should ask, they didn't but something's working right down there. There is a God. Thank you! ...and what's new in your part of the world? kG
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