Trekked back to the doctor today. I was out of muscle relaxers (he had given me samples of them) and I could tell the difference in mobility this morning.
I was in the waiting room for over two hours. This is unusual for a Tuesday and when they called me in, several people apologized, including the doctor. Fortunately for me, waiting time is bonus book-time.
He asked how I was doing and I told the truth. In the a.m., I am 90 years old. I get younger as I move around. I was much younger than 90 when I still had muscle relaxers to take at bedtime.
He asked me if I wanted another shot in the joint. Want? Probably not. Need? Not even.
So, I have more gratis relaxers and time to heal. Conservative treatment is his preference, and just coincidentally, I agree.
I even went to the pharmacy and stood in line to pick up prescriptions for other family members.
Right now one experience of standing in line, per day, is my limit.
Why be masochistic?