So yesterday I had my monthly checkin with my pain doctor (Important Side Note: I know I left The Adventures At The Pain Clinic story hanging, and I am going to get back to it as soon as I can. I just have to recover from July and August’s relentless attempts to kill me.)
I’m taking a time out from epidurals and nerve burns to let my body recover a bit, and even though I already knew the answer, I asked what the non-surgical treatment options were. He ran through the usual list of diet, exercise, chiropractic and core strengthening, all of which I am currently doing.
“Yeah,” he then said, warming to his topic and pointing enthusiastically at his abdomen, “you know, if you could get a six-pack, that would really help a lot.” (Naturally he is tall and thin, with nary and iota of body fat on him.)
Luckily I found this statement funny rather than obnoxious, so I just made some sort of noncommittal noise that could have meant anything from, “Hm, I will make a note of that,” to “Sure, I’ll get right on that!”
But inside I was thinking, “A six-pack, seriously? I’d be thrilled if I could make 3/4 of a can.”