Just what I didn't need. I woke up in the middle of the night with a sharp pain in my right side. It radiated down my leg and I couldn't take a deep breath. I got up and stumbled to the bathroom only to remember that I'd put all of the ibuprofen in John's bag. I filled a glass of water, drank it and went back to bed.
My brain entered panic zone. Oh God, what if it is my appendix? My insurance has a $5000 deductible. I don't have time for this. Please.
I tossed and turned and turned and tossed. The pain like a bullet lodged in my right side. I finally turned on my stomach and immediately discovered that the source of the pain was actually my back, or my side, or my ribcage. I made fist and applied deep pressure to the spot on my lower back that screamed the loudest...slowly, slowly the pain in my right side eased to dull throb. Whew. Relief. Not my appendix. What did I do!?!
My brained rolled past the events of the past few days. Oh yeah. I was clearing out the desk I sold. I crawled underneath to disconnect everything, unscrew it and get it ready to clear out. As I lay on the floor underneath it, twisting to find that screw, I was taken back to August, when I was lying on the floor of the garage, in a similar position, screwing in the flashing at the bottom of the wall. My back went in to spasm, then, and I couldn't move. I was on the floor in the garage, twisted like a french creweler (no idea how to spell that) and unable to move. I couldn't get up. I laid there till the spasm seemed to pause, rolled over, crawled closer to the rail that the door runs in, grabbed it and pulled myself up like it was rope I was climbing a mountain. Then I headed for the hot tub. I'd forgotten the weeks of slowly rehabilitating those muscles. The heating pads, the tiger balm, the ibuprofen.
It was all coming back to me, as lay there, suddenly recalling lying on the floor of the studio, twisted once again, once again holding the cordless drill, applying pressure and then the awful spasm that followed. OOOOOOOW.
So, I did it again. Thank God I had a massage scheduled for this morning. But, in fact, I barely got there. Once upright, I was dizzy. Couldn't take a deep breath. And wow, some definite pain encompassing my middle and dominant on the right side. It feels like an overly tight girdle with pins sprinkled through out.
Poor Norma. She worked like a warm blanket for an hour and a half. Well, at least I can sit up, and walk. I hurt. Alot. I apparently made all those muscles that wrap around your ribcage and then run sort of sideways around you and connect to the ones that go up and down your spine.....Very Unhappy. I can almost turn my head side to side. I can't slouch...my mom would say that's a good thing, but it's not very much fun. My arms are resting on the laptop, and every now and then my sleeve brushes the touch pad, which sends the scroll bar wild. Deep sigh. At least I can breathe again. I am, however, grateful. Norma confirmed it. Not the appendix. Whew. Thank God. Just my own stupidity at my own denial that I am not 25, and not, despite some popular opinion, superwoman. I'll head home tonight and hope i can get that lid open on the hot tub. Norma said, "how old are you, my dear? 92? " "No", I said. "192". Or so that's how it feels. Sigh again. This too shall pass...but it will be a while.
Labels: back pain, deep breath, hyper-extended muscles, ibuprofen, Katherine McDermott Artist