It's one of baseball's most exciting plays. The triple. Sometimes it can bring a triumphant end to the game.
I was nervous before my triple, ESI procedure #3. I tried not to be predictive, that is, not pointing to either end of the turnout gauge and worrying over good or bad. I took a Trammadol in advance to stay as neutral and relaxed as I could.
A new assistant stood near, as I lay on my stomach and raised my head from the torturous open square slot to take a peek. Cute. She will give me assurances toward the end of the shots. She knows I hate being positioned belly-down on this damn platform. They pull my shorts down all they way this time. The shots today must be farther the spine down toward L5 and S1. In return she and the other, regular assistant, get at a full moore moon until the Doc comes in and drops a towel down and places his toolkit items there, or so it feels.
24 hours later I feel some relief. I suspect this is largely the lidocaine dilutive at work, or it could be power of suggestion. I've learned that the injections can tease you.
Once again I won't really know until time passes. The chems seem to race through my system faster than most. By end of next week, I may have my own evaluation. Doc says the third time is a charm, but then again he said that about the 2nd ones, too.
PT will continue next week, and I look forward to the strengthening it provides.
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