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Thursday, May. 26, 2011 - 1:09 p.m.

Finally went and saw a doctor about my tailbone. My in-laws had said maybe something could be done for it; steroid shot or something. So I had gotten my hopes up that there might be a magic wand that could be waved over my butt and then I could sit comfortably again. Not so. The doc I saw mostly did sports medicine, did some flexibility tests and X-rays ("Oops! We forgot to put the lead apron on you! Well, I don't think it hurt you too much, did it?") and came away recommending that I go get some therapy to improve flexibility. I'm having a hard time seeing how being able to touch my toes will help de-bruise my tailbone, but whatever, I'll play, I guess. Truth is, I'm somewhat embarrassed about it; I don't spend much time with the physically fit, and it made me feel a bit...well, judged. He suggested that I try to get myself back into an exercise routine, and looked very surprised when I told him how much walking I do.

I hate stretching, ok? I just hate it. Always have. I feel like I've just been prescribed gym class.

But I'll try it, if there's a chance that it'll work. What the fuck do I know, anyway?

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