Doctor's orders

The good physio is deferring to the GP's expertise, but actually the GP echoes the physio's words almost to the letter. Kinda useful when they all agree with each other - so less confronting than when they have a bunfight over you - the patient.

The GP has ordered an MRI, with the instruction to let things settle for a week or so and hope that the pain goes away. She's also written me a referral letter for a neuro$$$urgeon.

The pain is, in fact, subsiding, and the patch of numb skin is receding in size. My right big toe begrudgingly moves a little, but only when I catch in unawares. If I make too much of a conscious effort at it, it has a spac attack and makes my brain hurt.

So-o-o-o, NOT

I seem to have grown a few inches taller, for all the couch-surfing I'm currently doing. I once had a vertically-challenged friend who (just) passed the minimum-height criterion for entering the metropolitan fire brigade simply by hanging up-side-down on a handstand machine for a few days before the examination and then getting his friends to carry him on a plank all the way from the machine in his lounge-room to the front door of the brigade, minutes before his examination.