First, an Update on Slag's back:
Last week we got him to Plano to the Texas Back Institute. These people are supposed to be the shit and we saw nothing that made us disagree with that rumor. They know what they are doing. They weren't surprised or perplexed or frightened by anything we told them or brought with us. They even have comfortable, ergonomic, "back friendly" chairs in their waiting room, which you don't see nearly as often as you would expect from doctors who treat back pain.
Unfortunately, by the time we got to the office at 3pm, Slag had spent 4 hours riding in a car and he was in too much pain to try out one of the ergonomic chairs (I enjoyed one though). Instead he asked the checkin lady if it would be OK if he laid down on the floor in the corner of the waiting room (which he has done before in waiting rooms with less-back-friendly chairs). She responded by finding a free examination room. Very considerate.
The good news is that the head honcho surgeon agreed to replace the offending disc in Slag's back. But there's always a catch, isn't there? Yes, there is.
The surgeon sent him for a bone density scan, to make sure the bones in his back are dense enough to handle the surgery. He got the scan late last week and, to our untrained eyes, the results sort of look like his bones aren't very dense. We're still waiting to hear from the surgeon after he reviews the scan results, but Slag won't be surprised if he has to go on this bone-strengthening medication for a few months before his spine is sturdy enough.
So we're waiting to hear if we have to wait some more. I'm sick of waiting. Slag is REALLY sick of waiting. The thought of Slag living for several more months in his current condition actually makes me a little nauseated. And so I'm not going to think about it anymore today.
Second, my car versus the Almighty:
Last week, just before our trip to Plano, I stood on the front porch and watched a hail storm pummel the crap out of my car. For the second time in three years. This time was worse because the front and back windows were also smashed, filling the passenger compartment with glass and rendering the car undriveable. Sigh.
I don't understand what I have done to deserve this. I love this car. I'm going to drive it until it dies, but the universe seems to be trying to kill it off before its time. I got it new in 2003. In the 6 six years since then, it's been rear-ended TWICE, beat all to hell with hail TWICE, and had a cantaloupe-sized rock gouge a trench out of its hood when said rock was thrown up in the air by the truck driving in front of me. So let's just say they know me at the body shop.
If somebody knows what I need to do to stop the carnage, please let me know. I'm thinking of sacrificing a goat.