brightlotusmoon (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
brightlotusmoon) wrote2013-04-28 07:52 pm
brightlotusmoon) wrote2013-04-28 07:52 pm
Entry tags:
Streeeetch!
So, recently I have been doing these very specific limb stretches that were taught to me by my childhood physical therapists to loosen me up, since the cerebral palsy was extreme when I was a kid - I mean, for mild CP, you know?
But today has been a particular hell on my body. And no matter how long and often I stretched, nothing actually helped... until I took a combination of baclofen, tramadol, magnesium, skullcap, vitamin D, and vitamin C. Then it got better.
I was casually chatting with an old acquaintance and I mentioned what I was doing. The acquaintance immediately lambasted me for "giving in to evil Big Pharma and holistic quackery" and "being brainwashed into thinking those poison and placebo drugs help" (actual quote).
After I picked myself up off the floor and finished laughing and wiping away tears after more laughter, I typed, "Aww, sweetie! Thanks for looking out for me. It's so nice to know I'm loved! Anyway, I gotta go take my nightly seizure drugs and antidepressants and birth control pills and relaxing supplements. You know, because I am a member of the League of Evil Pill Taking Citizens. Don't tell anyone, but we're going to take over the world by treating our chronic illnesses with drugs and supplements until we feel better, and we're going to tell other patients what we're doing so they can make informed decisions for themselves. I can't give you specifics or I'd have to kill you. I've already said too much. Uh oh, my superiors are messaging me. Gotta go!"
I closed the chat window and signed out, and so far he hasn't replied. I'm currently coming up with a better, sillier name for this League. Just to fuck with him. I know I shouldn't, because it's cruel. But seriously. Whut. LOL.
Back to stretching. It hurts, but in a really good way, you know? Ahhhh, stretching! Also, the stretching brings back some amazing childhood memories. I remember being in a room with a blue floor, trying to manipulate tiny plastic figurines with my left hand while rolling on one of those huge exercise balls. When I was little, I called it torture. Now, I want one of those huge balls in my writing room to work out with.
But today has been a particular hell on my body. And no matter how long and often I stretched, nothing actually helped... until I took a combination of baclofen, tramadol, magnesium, skullcap, vitamin D, and vitamin C. Then it got better.
I was casually chatting with an old acquaintance and I mentioned what I was doing. The acquaintance immediately lambasted me for "giving in to evil Big Pharma and holistic quackery" and "being brainwashed into thinking those poison and placebo drugs help" (actual quote).
After I picked myself up off the floor and finished laughing and wiping away tears after more laughter, I typed, "Aww, sweetie! Thanks for looking out for me. It's so nice to know I'm loved! Anyway, I gotta go take my nightly seizure drugs and antidepressants and birth control pills and relaxing supplements. You know, because I am a member of the League of Evil Pill Taking Citizens. Don't tell anyone, but we're going to take over the world by treating our chronic illnesses with drugs and supplements until we feel better, and we're going to tell other patients what we're doing so they can make informed decisions for themselves. I can't give you specifics or I'd have to kill you. I've already said too much. Uh oh, my superiors are messaging me. Gotta go!"
I closed the chat window and signed out, and so far he hasn't replied. I'm currently coming up with a better, sillier name for this League. Just to fuck with him. I know I shouldn't, because it's cruel. But seriously. Whut. LOL.
Back to stretching. It hurts, but in a really good way, you know? Ahhhh, stretching! Also, the stretching brings back some amazing childhood memories. I remember being in a room with a blue floor, trying to manipulate tiny plastic figurines with my left hand while rolling on one of those huge exercise balls. When I was little, I called it torture. Now, I want one of those huge balls in my writing room to work out with.