The last few days have been spent flat on my back, or worse, on my hands and knees, unable to get up. Nothing fun going on, oh no, let me assure you- I pulled my lower back out. Anyone ever done that? Holy mackerel, it sucks! Excuse the vernacular, but there is nothing else to say that adequately covers it besides “sucks”.
Thanks heavens DFM was home for three solid days, because I couldn’t move, seriously- I even needed help getting in and out of the shower, and once in there, I couldn’t stand, but had to sit on the little plastic stool my kids use for the potty. Getting dressed? Ha! Never have I been so totally laid out, helpless and wretched. It felt like it must feel to be about 110 years old, stooped over and in constant pain. And, I don’t even know what I did!
My wonderful and kind and generous regular doctor gave me some viacadin, but it just made me throw up some more. Heaven knows I don’t need any more of that, so tylenol and rice bags it is, but then the smell of the hot rice bags was making me sick, so I just laid on the floor and moaned in my misery, throwing up in a Tupperware bowl. I’m sure I was quite the lovely sight, and I’m really glad my husband and I have seen each other at our worse, so nothing can offend or surprise.
It’s hard to feel prideful or strong when someone has to help you go potty, get your pants on, or peel you up off the floor. Somewhere along the line, I must have needed a lesson in humility. Lesson learned- boy am I humble now!