The Big Whine

By Lyne Royce

Does everyone remember my complaining about my physical problems some months ago?

Prepare yourself for Olympic whining…

First, the tendonitis in my right arm is back after three corticosteroid injections. Do you guys also remember what the orthopedic surgeon told me about my treatment? That’s right: “Try to stay away from keyboards as much as possible.”

Uh… Can we guess what Lyne does for a living, Doc?

Okay, the man can’t help it-- he can’t keep complete track of everyone’s life, especially their medical conditions. Doctors don’t have time for that anymore-- you’re lucky to get ten minutes per appointment with any doctor. You also have to become your own medical advocate unless you can find someone to take on this thankless job. “Thankless” because it’s grunt work filling out paperwork. Also not fun is tracking your drugs (how much and how often), what happened to you (medically) in the past week, the past month, and the past year, and it better be detailed. Personally, I keep an Excel file for myself and for RL. I have to for me and since my husband is awful about keeping track of this stuff, I just track his stuff, too. My interviews with him are the stuff movies are made of.

If you decide to keep track of this information for yourself, I would suggest you print it out before you attend your next doctor’s appointment. Keep it up to date and no matter if there are changes or not, the next time you see that doctor, print out another copy. And I suggest you print it out on colored paper so it stands out from the rest of the white pages in your file. I tell you this not so much to be stylish but so that the person who is probably in charge of your life and its continued existence will be armed with the information that may save it!

Case in point: I’d been to a specialist three times. Let me emphasize, I’d been to his clinic on three separate occasions. After every appointment, I was either called by or had a message on my service from someone at the clinic asking me for the name and phone number of the pharmacy so she could call in a prescription.

Every. Single. Time.

Guess what? That information was listed on the front sheet of my medical information file in a framed box in 14-foot high letters. The sheets were printed out on fluorescent yellow. My first clue should have been my first visit when I handed the nurse my information sheets. One of the techs started copying, in longhand, every drug and hospital visit I had listed on the sheets I gave them.

I think I’ve made my point.

Well, I have a new pain and it’s really getting on my nerves. I now have a back problem that’s trifling with my work and the back pain is serious. So serious, I forced myself to go to a pain clinic. And I hate training a new doctor.

Now then, there are three reasons I shouldn’t have this back problem:

1. I’m too young to have a back problem.

2. My doctor has, unceremoniously, told me I should spend less time at the computer and, thereby, threatening my chosen profession.

3. Taking care of this problem will cut into my writing time.

This is no joke-- there may be one reason I have this problem:

I sit in front of a computer most of the time.

I don’t believe how awful the pain is but it’s real and I want it to Go Away. I don’t have time for the pain, apologies to Carly Simon for my shameless pilfering of her song lyrics. I am now told it will “take time” to rid myself of this pain. In the 21^st century, for crying out loud. I mean, doesn’t some company have a machine that can take care of this?

I am not a happy woman and I am seldom unhappy alone.

Come on, Medical Folk. Wake up and smell the RAM. This is what writers do: we write. That requires sitting down. That requires using a mouse which requires using our arms. What’s next, I’m not allowed to look up the definition of a word because I’ll get “brain-lock”? No cortisone shot to cure that, I’m thinking.

Hey, I get up from my desk from time to time. Crimony, I have six cats and a husband, and the latter puts less of a demand on me than the cats. That’s because RL shows his support of my chosen profession. The cats, however, are irritated beyond belief if I spend too much time at the computer. It’s like having six toddlers around the house yelling for quality time. I’m told.

So, okay, I can understand the gravity of the situation. I should cut down on my arm movement. I understand the medical crowd has seen this kind of thing before so I have to trust what they say. Plus, the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem and asking for help. I’m surprised they don’t have a twelve-step process. You know: Writers Anonymous, maybe? Well, guess what? There actually is an organization with that name: http://www.sendcoffee.com/dog-o-matic/essays/writers.html.

Good grief. These people commiserate when they're blocked, depressed or kicked in the teeth by family and friends beating them about the head and shoulders with, “Why don’t you get a REAL job?”

RL has been a programmer for years and I have no idea why he doesn’t have the same physical problems I do. I asked him about it. Yeah, I know, why don’t I just poke a bear with a stick. Those who know my dear husband will understand his retort.

The Genius said:

“Why do you think I don’t have the same back problem, Dummy? I have enough brains to get up from my chair more often than every four hours to stretch and relieve my sit-down.” And he did not use the euphemism “sit-down.”

Which would imply, of course, that I don’t have a functioning brain. We had a discussion about that later. I think it was a draw.

All right, I’m convinced. You get past 35 years old and things don’t hold up by themselves without you helping things along. I don’t see this as a fair situation but I wasn’t consulted.

I have a few suggestions, giving you pros and cons for each solution. I’m listing them because it’s not just a possibility that this will happen to you. It’s a lock. Ladies, think of it as no more tube tops. (Aarrrgh.) Guys, you may assume you can throw away the Speedo. Those days are over.

Feel good now, do you? Think this is beyond you? You don’t have anything to worry about-- you haven’t been writing that long and you’re not as stupid as the bozo writing this column, right?

“I’m only 27!” you scream.

“What do I need to worry about back problems now for?! I’m as healthy as when I was seventeen years old.”

Right. This was my attitude when I first started working in front of a computer. This is going to happen to anyone who doesn’t adopt healthy computing habits. You think I’m a nag? Wait until you go to the sites I’ve listed. I suggest you have your loved ones seated nearby when you go there. Some of these sites are horrific: they actually show people doing back stretching exercises! And they nag the living daylights out of you while they demonstrate them. It’s ghastly. I’m in physical therapy right now and these people get paid to perform legal torture on your already wretched body.

The following suggestions aren’t cheap. Find another reason to whine and get the legal bucks to buy these things for the sake of your health. Maybe skip lattes for a few months. At $5 a crack, you could own Hewlett Packard within the year using this method.

Lyne’s Suggestions

#1 Solution: Use a voice-recognition software package to dictate text instead of typing it.

Pro: Dragon Naturally Speaking does a great job on dictation practically out of the box.

Con: Dictating takes some getting used to but it can be done with enough patience… and more than 30 minutes of voice training to make the package more accurate, thereby decreasing irritation of the user and extending the life of your keyboard after it’s been pounded to death with frustration.

#2 Solution:  Head-directional mouse. I’m not kidding.

Pro: No using your hands… ever! Which means no painful tendonitis.

Con: Again, these unique items are not cheap. Of course, neither is medical care, prosthetics or the time all this will take away from your writing to deal with it. Oh, one more thing. You have to paste a metal dot on your forehead to use this mouse. I’m not kidding; this is how the mouse works with the direction of your eyes. What, you thought maybe you get plugged directly into your computer, like in The Matrix? Please. If that’s what you think, you’ve been watching way too many science fiction films.

The following site is quite incredible: http://www.naturalpoint.com/smartnav/. This is the coolest hands-free mouse I’ve ever seen. I know, the cheapest one is $200. Grit your teeth and buy it. Unless, of course, you’ve got the time to be shackled to a hospital bed with a bar over your head to lift you up with the only good arm you have left.

My back has a bone that has no cartilage left; therefore I have bone rubbing against bone. If I listen, I can actually hear it. It’s a great pastime when I get bored. However, this was not my idea of a good time, nor did I have a conscious hand in creating it. But I can hear the bones grinding. It’s just one little bone. Doesn’t sound that awful, does it?

Wrong.

It hurts!

I’d like to thank my sister-in-law, Ellie, who inadvertently supplies me with her constant inspiration for my columns and who has the patience to listen to my whining on the phone when I’m stuck. I would also like to beg your pardon, Ellie, for assuming you sit all day at work. My bad. Keep the inspiration train moving this way. One quip from you, El, and I’ve got an entire column.

Find out what else I had to do to fend off pain and what you can do to avoid it.

To be continued next month…

Lyne Royce is a freelance writer living near Phoenix with one devoted husband and six spoiled cats. All are strays, including the devoted husband. Lyne likes stray cats, the Arizona desert and 80's rock. After fifteen years teaching software classes, Lyne decided to listen to Thalia, her muse, who had been beating Lyne over the head with a baseball bat to get her attention. Lyne currently belongs to several writers' discussion groups and is a member of The Net Wits, National Association of Women Writers, and Southwest Writers organizations. Lyne is also a contributing columnist at www.ewritersplace.com and Absolute Write. Contact Lyne at Lyne2@WrittenWell.com.

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