We got up relatively early yesterday. Well, I would say I got up really early (how does 3:50 sound?) and Chris followed around 7-ish. We had to get on the road so we could see off Josiah for his tonsils/adenoids removal surgery.
Then I had to be at my haircut appointment at their new shop by 11. Now we have to cross over east of 61st Street. I guess Suzann is worth it, though. Wait. Of course she’s worth it! Go check out their new shop.
After a quick lunch, I downed the pill the doc gave me, and we headed for the big CT scan. Yes, my back was already hurting before we left. Yes, I was counting on the medication to make it possible for me to lie flat enough. And she did allow me a prop for my back.
Well, the meds and props may have taken a bit of the edge off, but as soon as my back hit the table, it screamed. As far as I know my mouth stayed relatively shut, preferring instead to simply groan and engage in my breathing exercises. The redeeming factor, though was the length of the test. I was inside the machine for three deep breaths, three brief holds, and three exhales. Not even five minutes. I’ll choose that one over an MRI any day of the week.
Problem was, the rest of the afternoon my back was killing me. I did sleep off the meds, but oh, when I woke up was that back ever hurting.
2 Corinthians 9:7 says, Each of you should give what you have decided in your heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.
Father, thank you for the quickness of that scan. It could have been really bad. Amen.
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