Who’s that fat guy floating in the pool: is he dead?

Me. I’m the fat guy floating in the pool. That’s pool with a capital P that rhymes with T and that stands for trouble…. Or something like that.

About 10 days ago, I had another procedure done. For those interested, it’s called a radiofrequency ablation, also called radiofrequency lesioning. Basically they stick a series of large needles into my spine and (before the numbing agent has taken effect) charge them like a taser. It felt nice, as I’m sure you can imagine.

One of the advantages of Julie working for the gym is that I get a membership, too. I’m not sure if the ablation has been terribly effective, but I’m sure that I’ve got knots in my back like a sailor got bored. The problem is, I can’t stand being touched, it hurts, let alone for someone to start pushing on my back (which is damaged, and thus hurts more)… No relief has been found… Until…

I went to the gym the other day to try out the hot tub (spa pool?)… And that was too hot. But I discovered that, appropriately drugged, I could spend some time in the pool itself. I overdid it on the first day… Night… Not really sure what the time was, but I intstagram-ed it, like a good internet addict. I walked and swam and it was glorious. 

I regret that activity today. Now the knots aren’t just in my back, but my shoulders and thighs as well. My calves seem to be free of the monsters, for now.

At any rate, being I the water has felt nice. I’ve gone back to the gym about 2 times a day since, 2 or 3 hours at a time. The second trip I worked out hard like the first. The third and forth got to be a little more difficult… And by the fifth all I could do was use a water noodle to keep my head above water as I floated lazily in the slightly cool water. In truth, the water takes pressure off of my spine, which is nice.

However, I’m sure the poor gym employees (I don’t go to my wife’s, as her’s isn’t open 24 hours), I’m sure they worry that I’ve gone and died. That wouldn’t be without precedent, but Julie will have to tell that story.

For now, if you see a bloated body in the pool at the gym, it’s just me. Don’t poke me with a stick.