After a month of kinesiologia, my sciatica is finally incrementally improving, thanks to the patient and nimbly fingered Dr. B, who'll sometimes eschew sonogram technology altogether to spend upwards of 20 minutes massaging my vertebrate, rib by precious rib. Long live Dr. B and his Spidey senses! Dr. B 4-evah!
Here's where the magic happens. (Keep your oohs and aahs to a minimum so you don't disturb the other patients...)
And check out the awesome dumbwaiter! Sometimes while deep in waiting-room ennui, I get tempted to leave stealthy notes for the clerk upstairs, just stupid stuff like, "Beam me up to the 21st century, Estefania!" Or maybe one day I'll rig up two tin cans. zzz