6 August was wiggle your toes day. I don’t, actually can’t, celebrate. I can’t wiggle my toes any more.
I had an appointment with my Neuroquack?. He wanted me to wiggle my toes for him. I had a good laugh over that.
It was more like an enhanced interrogation day for me, complete with electric shocks and painful needles. Like the government they have innocuous sounding names for their torture methods. They call them Electromyogram & Nerve Conduction Study.
I had these done a couple of years ago but I don’t recall the pain levels being as high. The last nerve conduction study had a couple of severe shocks. This time they kept turning up the voltage until my body jerked strongly. That was followed by the EMG where they stick a needle in you. The neuroquack? seemed a bit sadistic in his needle application.
But I didn’t talk. Well, except for a “FUCK THIS SHIT!”, near the end of the test.
The tests were at De Paul. The worst pain was getting to and from the appointment. It took me 20 freakin minutes to gimp in from the closest gimp parking spot I could find. It took as long to gimp back to my car after. Fuck De Paul, never going near there again.
I was pissed when I was told during enhanced interrogation that they had free valet parking for the disabled. I saw the valet parking sign with a prominent price tag. No signs saying it was free if you had a gimp tag or plates. You’re supposed to mead minds to find out about it. I guess they think gimps grow a psychic sense as compensation for mobility loss.