Last week I feeling a little overwhelmed by the fact that I was running every where and didn't have time to do anything and I haven't been home in what seemed like weeks. It was so bad that on Wednesday, after having been up at 1:30am stressed about how I was going to get everything done, I cancelled my college class because I thought, I just can't do that today too.
Saturday I walked 8.25 miles - six minutes faster than I had a month ago. I planted my garden (though I didn't put in the water system because I was tired) and I watched a movie and stressed out because I didn't think I'd be able to finish my book before the library was going to take it back.
Sunday morning I got up, made coffee, started a load of laundry when I noticed that suds were coming out of the washer everywhere. I quickly grabbed a towel and got down on the floor to mop it up when my back collapsed. That's the best word. It went from straight to concave. I screamed. Randi and Earl came running. I yelled some more. Randi licked my face. I tried to get up. Earl licked my face. I finally managed to get myself in a seated position and tried to reach for my phone, but that didn't work. Randi and Earl continued the licking. Eventually I was able to get up and get in a chair and I called Sara and Bill and told them that I wasn't going to be walking. Then I hobbled to my room where I took a muscle relaxer and pain pill and called my dad and asked for some help.
My mom promptly came over and exercised her tried and true method of non-stop talking until you submit to whatever she wants. She got my walker out of the garage so that I could at least get around some. I couldn't even stand up without it yesterday. I screamed and grunted every time I had to get up or out of bed. I took more pain pills. My mom talked about calling an ambulance. I said, "No." The dogs proceeded to be the four most annoying dogs in the world. Unsure of what was going on, they paced, jumped, demanded to be outside on a rotating basis; so as soon as someone would sit down the next one would be at the door wanting out. My mom insisted I have a babysitter while she went to dinner with her friends and Sara and Jessica came over to babysit me and then my mom came back and spent the night with me in case I fell out of the bed. That could have been possible, but with the muscle relaxer and pain pill combo, there's no moving at all.
This morning my dad took me to the doctor, where I could at least walk around without the walker and the doctor said pretty much that the monkeys had been too active jumping on the bed and I had hurt myself. No, duh. I had an X-ray that showed that nothing was wrong with the gigantor pins and bolts in my back. She gave me more pain medicine, a shot for pain and swelling, a prescription for prednisone and an off work notice for one week.
The good news is that I didn't do anything to my back and I'll definitely be home enough to finish my book before it needs to go back to the library. No way I could drive right now. First, I'm all doped up on pain meds and second, my back is still cramping. I'm moving a lot better today than I was yesterday, but I still look like I belong in the geriatric wing of my house. The bad news is, well, there's quite a bit of pain involved, but that's about all the bad I can come up with. I'm not sad about having an unexpected guilt free week from both my jobs. Sure, I'd rather not be grimacing in pain every time I move, but I'll take it.
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