7 Sep

I usually write my blog posts in the evenings and schedule them for publication the following morning. Alas, I fell down on the job yesterday (almost literally). I ended up in bed at 7:00 because I was: 1 – in pain, and 2 – fearing more pain.

Back in January, my back done stove up on me. I still don’t have a good explanation of what happened other than a massively huge muscle spasm. Because it was in my extreme lower back on one side, it also affected my mobility, not to mention the fact that once when I managed to stand up, the pain was so bad that I passed out, cracked my head on the nightstand and gave myself a concussion. But that’s another story. I was out of commission for a week and it took me several weeks to get back to normal. And then I moved on, living my life and being (mostly) happy.

Until yesterday.

I’ve been feeling twinges for a week or so, making me aware that I’m not totally ok. But I have 4 kids, and I can’t really slow down, so I didn’t. Then yesterday afternoon, the not-quite-big-one hit. it hurt, but it wasn’t as bad as the first time back in January. I knew I had to sit down and stay there for the rest of the day. Fortunately, when something like this happens (which is not often), my older 2 kids are freaked out enough at the sight of me sitting still that they know they need to help. They helped me get settled in the recliner with heating pads, back massagers, coffee, phones (home & cell), etc. Then, because I couldn’t reach Steve at work to find out when he was coming home, I decided to order pizza.

I live in a hamlet. 6000-ish people. Three gas stations, one hardware store, one grocery store, a couple of restaurants, two elementary schools, and one pizza joint. Not even a McDonald’s. It WENT OUT OF BUSINESS several years ago. I know. McDonald’s going out of business? Unheard of. Anyway, our one fast food place is the pizza place. It’s our go-to choice for those nights when Mommy flakes out on making dinner, like last night. Guess what? They weren’t delivering last night. Ack.

After I hung up and broke the news to my children who began wailing and gnashing their teeth, I called Steve again to see if he could pick up the pizza on his way home. No answer on his cell. In fact, I knew it was turned off because it went straight to voice mail. He has to turn his cell phone off at different times because he is a scientist who works for the government. Enough said? So the phone being off wasn’t a surprise, but definitely an inconvenience, especially since it was almost time for him to leave work. If I didn’t get hold of him before he left work, pizza was definitely off. So I called his Google Voice number, the number that’s supposed to ring at ALL of his numbers (he has like, 12 office numbers). No answer there. I figured he was in a meeting. It’s been known to happen.

I told #1 that he was going to have to make dinner. Microwave corn dogs for 3 of the 4 kids. #3 doesn’t like ’em. She would get frozen waffles. When the multiple corn dogs were finally zapped and ready to eat, Steve finally called. He had a meeting – at NOON – and he turned his cell phone off. He complained that “they” are quick to remind people to turn their phones off, but “they” never remind people to turn them back on, so it had been off all afternoon needlessly.

Seriously? Who forgets to turn their cell back on? Maybe for him it’s not such a big deal, Dr. I’m-a-physicist-and-above-such-mortal-things, but for me, it’s a huge thing. In fact, I avoid turning my phone off at all, if possible. This is my lifeline, people. I have a smartphone and it’s like I grew a second head with all sorts of cool stuff inside. My phone is never more than 10 feet away from me, unless it’s charging, and then I feel like someone chopped off not only my smartphone-head, but my plain old normal head, too, because I have to function without my fun electronic brain.

Anyway, back to my back. Steve came home, made homemade waffles for the 3 kids who would eat them, and played Suzy Homemaker. I moved my slightly-less gimpy self into bed (I’d taken the good pills they gave me back in January), and stayed there until 6:30 this morning. I was able to move better today, but I’m scared to death that I’m going to do something to aggravate things. That’s why I’m still in my PJs. Getting dressed might be a hazard to my health. But I deemed brushing my teeth as safe.

When I put Baby K down for her morning nap here in a few minutes, I’ll get into a nice, hot bath. I suppose I’ll put on “real” clothes after the bath because the Terminix man is coming this afternoon. It’s bad enough that my house is a wreck and I can’t straighten it up before he comes – I probably shouldn’t be in my jammies at 3:00 (as much as I’d like to be).


2 Responses to “Gimpy”

  1. Jessica September 7, 2011 at 2:38 pm #

    Hope you’re feeling better! And embrace the sweats. It’s only terminex. šŸ™‚

    • That Nolen Chick September 7, 2011 at 2:50 pm #

      So far Mr. Terminix hasn’t showed up yet. I still have 1 hour and 11 minutes in the “we’ll-be-here-during-the-hours-of” window. I changed out of PJs, but I’m in yoga pants and I have shoes on.

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