Current mood:

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step one
I've mentioned Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome now and again. I was just prescribed a--pardon me, no "a"--ankle braces during every fucking waking moment. It was by a chiropractor, but I could get it either from an orthopaedic physician or an osteopathologist (the disease fits under both). I've actually known I had a permanent sprained ankle (left). Didn't know how bad it was. Didn't know pain could still make me scream, to be honest--I'd dislocated the front of my left foot, and she "put it back into place". Looks like stronger pain pills soon, little as I want them. Odd, that. Most of my generation and general habit and appearance ("hippies", if you will) would love such a prescription. For me, it's just another signpost on the way down. Christine quietly cussed me out for not seeing her often enough (understanding, I suppose, that a part of it--what keeps me away, I mean--is guilt: the visits are free).

Pardon me for the language. Guess I'm just a trifle tired of constant pain.
--Glenn