Right Back to Monkey Town
If you wake up with a crick in your neck, which has a relatively small surface area, what is it called when it's your lower back? A crock? A crack (not that low)? A crikey? Cricker? Crickest?
The crucks of the matter is that Sunday my back felt worse than it had in a while, and the hot tub was no help for once. It's for sale now, if anyone wants it.
However, Sunday was a naked picnic in a meadow full of funnel cakes compared to how I felt Monday when I woke. Can't say 'woke up'. I didn't get that far. How's woke two-thirds?
Back being squeezed by an imaginary King Kong, pain and pressure down my right (?!) leg, in the front (as opposed to the back of my left leg, per previous centuries of herniative disc matters), and down around my kneecap. Had to lean on things to move, and because of my wrist brace, I put pressure on my knuckles, like a simian with a bad haircut and larger nose.
Well, this won't do.
Drove myself to the ER, and after three hours, I had a Toradol IV muscle relaxant seeping through my veins, which allowed me to stand up long enough to get in line for some Valium, Percocet, and Naproxen. And also a note from Epstein's Mother's Doctor excusing me from work for the next two days so I could become a temporary drug addict.
After the first dose of all three, I was feeling pretty good, buoyed by the fact that I finally got my computer CD burner to work after six months of hoping it would happen by itself, and that the guys who showed up at the ungodly hour of 6:42am to give us a new roof were done eighty-four seconds before a thunderstorm rolled through.
But by the time dinner rolled around, I started to feel hot, light-headed, and nauseous, with a sensation that bugs were crawling on my neck. Ainsley sent me to bed after dinner. I felt bad, but she apparently got the kids to sleep relatively easily, and enjoyed two hours of personal time.
This morning, my back was still stiff, so when I got to work, I popped two more pills, knowing I wouldn't have to drive for six hours.
Bad move. Come 9:30, I was hovering over a men's room twallet, drooling waterfalls, but stopping short of revisiting breakfast, amazingly. Just felt dreadful all morning.
Ironically, once the medicine wore off, I started feeling better, and can now walk around and do normal stuff, with only occasional twinges. Even walked the three dogs while Bjorning Erin on my chest, with Ryan following close behind carrying the poop bags. Here's hoping it was just a temporary setback. Har!
The crucks of the matter is that Sunday my back felt worse than it had in a while, and the hot tub was no help for once. It's for sale now, if anyone wants it.
However, Sunday was a naked picnic in a meadow full of funnel cakes compared to how I felt Monday when I woke. Can't say 'woke up'. I didn't get that far. How's woke two-thirds?
Back being squeezed by an imaginary King Kong, pain and pressure down my right (?!) leg, in the front (as opposed to the back of my left leg, per previous centuries of herniative disc matters), and down around my kneecap. Had to lean on things to move, and because of my wrist brace, I put pressure on my knuckles, like a simian with a bad haircut and larger nose.
Well, this won't do.
Drove myself to the ER, and after three hours, I had a Toradol IV muscle relaxant seeping through my veins, which allowed me to stand up long enough to get in line for some Valium, Percocet, and Naproxen. And also a note from Epstein's Mother's Doctor excusing me from work for the next two days so I could become a temporary drug addict.
After the first dose of all three, I was feeling pretty good, buoyed by the fact that I finally got my computer CD burner to work after six months of hoping it would happen by itself, and that the guys who showed up at the ungodly hour of 6:42am to give us a new roof were done eighty-four seconds before a thunderstorm rolled through.
But by the time dinner rolled around, I started to feel hot, light-headed, and nauseous, with a sensation that bugs were crawling on my neck. Ainsley sent me to bed after dinner. I felt bad, but she apparently got the kids to sleep relatively easily, and enjoyed two hours of personal time.
This morning, my back was still stiff, so when I got to work, I popped two more pills, knowing I wouldn't have to drive for six hours.
Bad move. Come 9:30, I was hovering over a men's room twallet, drooling waterfalls, but stopping short of revisiting breakfast, amazingly. Just felt dreadful all morning.
Ironically, once the medicine wore off, I started feeling better, and can now walk around and do normal stuff, with only occasional twinges. Even walked the three dogs while Bjorning Erin on my chest, with Ryan following close behind carrying the poop bags. Here's hoping it was just a temporary setback. Har!
posted by Dan at 8:08 PM
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