It's still not easy being the Yankee (June '07)

This past Tuesday night I was at Jiu-Jitsu class, and as luck would have it, I was paired up with a large and active partner for the sparring.

Everything was hunky dory, and all was well, until my frustrated amigo decided that launching us into an uncontrolled somersault would be "the thing to do." We rolled over the top of my head, and something between my neck and my back decided to relocate. The result was sudden and pretty extreme pain.

Now, being the reserved and hyper-intelligent Yankee that I am, I decide that the thing to do was to keep sparring until the pain subsided. The pain did not subside. In fact, the pain was so persistent that twenty minutes and two more sparring partners later, I became convinced that perhaps it would not subside anytime soon. Being the hardheaded Yankee that I am, I stayed until the end and finished practice anyway, on the premise that whatever damage had occurred wasn't going to go away just because I stopped training, so why not keep going?

Looking back, this may not have been the wisest move. Looking even further back, this sort of behavior is kind of a running theme in the post adolescent life of the Yankee, and may--though this is only a theory--have played a part in the laundry list of injuries enumerated in this very blog only days ago. Oh well, water under the bridge, right? Back to the story...

By the time I arrived home that night, it was clear that all was not well. Mrs. Yankee was kind enough to help me disrobe, and I muddled my way through a shower (painful, but very necessary after a practice.)

The next morning was no better, so I was torn between driving down to see my doctor (he rocks the planet, btw) or just lying in bed and staying as still as possible all day. This latter option had a certain appeal in that it required no real effort, and stroked my Yankee ego (we pride ourselves on quietly enduring hardships,) but had two very distinct disadvantages. Firstly, there would be no definite cessation to the pain. This was an particularly exquisite pain, so even a good Yankee could get his fill quite rapidly. Secondly, the air conditioning has not worked at the Yankee house all year, so even staying very still does not do much to alleviate the general sweltering discomfort, never mind the pain that accompanied even the slightest movement at this point.

As it turned out, my choice was neither of the above. I had forgotten that I had agreed to drive a bunch of church youth to a Braves game that day. Providentially, I remembered in time to fulfill my commitment, but the day consisted of driving around in a car full of sweaty, unwashed teenagers, sitting in 90+ degree heat in full sun for an interminable amount of time, eating substandard ballpark food (to clarify, that's substandard even for a ballpark,) and sitting in traffic at the end of the day because my ride home coincided with the end of the workday. All without adequate pain management. The Yankee was nothing but sunshine and happiness by the time he got home, I assure you.

I realize that this blog has not been up to my usual standards, and that I have been moving freely between the first and third person as I write this. I blame it all on the sweet, sweet pain medication I recently consumed...but I digress, so I'll cut this short and summarize.

Today I finally made it to the doctor's office, and what a fun and exciting time that was! I saw both a chiropractor and an orthopedist, got massage therapy, heat therapy, cold therapy, electric stimulus, a nerve function evaluation, and a lovely talking to. It seems that the little somersault we engaged in a couple of nights ago served to dislocate a vertebrae, pinch a nerve, and send the entire upper left side of my neck and back into severe spasms. The MD said that she had been asked to do a "range of motion" test on me, but that after seeing the condition of the muscles and the severity of the spasms, she deemed such a test "too cruel" at this time. Those are her words, not mine.

So here I sit, next to the largest prescription bottles I've ever received, one filled with Lortab, and one with Naprosyn. The pain is finally beginning to subside for the first time in two days, and real sleep may finally be on its way.

All of which should make it just a little bit easier to be the Yankee.