I did my back in again this week. On Dad's advice, I got myself a "nifty little garment", aka a back brace. Soooo sexy. Just about as attractive as the grunting sounds I make when trying to pick up a pencil.
I can't bend, I can't turn, I can hardly walk--I'm doing the 'back pain' shuffle. I gave the dog her water this morning with a watering can because I can't reach her bowl. Good thing she's wired to eat anything, anywhere--I tossed a handful of dog food on the floor. She thinks it's a new game-Find the Kibble That Rolled Under the Fridge.
My doc gave me meds --Vicodin and Flexeral. The Flexeral works great, loosens it up so I can move and maybe try to walk it off a bit. But I'm in so much pain, I have to give in and take the Vicodin afterall--which gives me just a tiny window to get a few things done around the house before I fall into a drooling stupor. Kate + meds= snoozeville.
I got the meds by phone, but in desperation, I did go in to see her yesterday. I really strained it this time--there's a huge knot over my right hip, the muscles are in nearly continuous spasm. She advised having my "Husband, Boyfriend, Girlfriend or Partner" help work out the knot. Blank look. "Boyfriend?". "Partner?, Girlfriend?" Bless her, she was so focused on being 'pc' with the inclusion of a same-sex significant other that she didn't even consider there'd be a big fat Nobody.
And I thought the worse pain I would feel this month was the dental work last week. Oh, how I wish that were true.