Vindication is mine.

First, let me say that whoever dreamed up the “Nerve Conduction Test” should have a special spot in the halls of hell waiting for him/her. What a devilishly twisted little examination (s)he devised.

I should have been apprehensive when the clinician asked if I would like to visit the men’s room before we got started. And you would think that the eerie sound of Margaret Hamilton cackling in the next room would have raised my suspicions. But no, I was calm a cucumber when the doctor entered the room with his stun gun, a box of rusty needles and a laptop.

I'll just give you  highlights of the test: the good doctor zapped me with the taser again and again. Between each jolt, he would meticulously record the number of times my body flopped on the examination table like a fish out of water. When he grew bored with electro-shock therapy, he began his deviant version of acupuncture. I am still bleeding.

But, on the bright side (and this is where the vindication comes in), I have the worst case of Carpal Tunnel the doctor has ever seen!

I’M NUMBER ONE!!! I’M NUMBER ONE!!!