Well its now been over two weeks since I innocently bent over to pick up a towel, getting out of the shower, and felt the disastrous ‘ping’ in my lower back. Within 20 minutes I was in full spasm and unable to do much but crawl to try to dress myself. I was due to be at work, but after an agonising 50 minutes of getting myself dressed I realised that this was one of those ‘bad episodes’ and hard-core pain-killers and anti-inflams were going to be the most I would be able to manage.
My OH was out of the country, girls on holiday with their father, parents zooming around Scotland on their Goldwing and I had a 12 stone dog trying to comfort me by trying to lay on me, as my crawling around was most fun to him.
Called Lady P, assured her that I was in fact dressed and not crawling around naked, so she agreed to come see me. By this time I had over-reacted on the Naproxen and Tramadol dosage (well, it had taken half an hour to get them and to stand up so I made th most of it.) and by the time she arrived, I was ‘drunk on prescriptive drugs’.
She took me to docs for emergency drug supplies, and then to get them from the pharmacy. An old lady of about 80 stopped me and told me ‘oooh, you look in agony.’ I congratulated her on her diagnosis and wished her well with her shopping trip.
That weekend I slept for hours and hours, thinking that by Monday I would be better and able to move around. I had two and a half days work to get done before flying to Portugal on the Wednesday. Stupidly I went into work on Monday (well, people just don’t ‘get’ bad backs do they?) and I had two important docs to organise before I left for hols as my boss was off too. I was greeted with ‘oh my god, you look like crap…’ I struggled on until 3pm and then went home (desperate for my drugs that preclude driving).
I worked on and off the whole of Tuesday, sitting upright and popping pills. Not a good move.
I got a lift to the airport Wednesday and managed to hobble around and get to Portugal ok. OH was slightly embarrassed to witness my elegant shuffling out of arrivals like a 90-year-old! I was there to see some of the Americas Cup but spent the next four days on a sunbed, only shuffling to the bar for lunches and Mojitos.
Anyway, a week later, a chiro appt or two and I am still in spasm. More drugs prescribed today. Signed off for a week.
My body in an S shape, my belly button is a diagonal line, and the chiro tells me I am rotated and uneven by an inch at the hip bones. Yum!
1. Flab hangs attractively on one side, you can’t hold your belly in (that was nice round the pool in Portugal)
2. You become a mathematician as you are forever counting the hours til your next pill popping session and working out how many you have left for how many days etc.
3. Everything is so tiring.
4. Putting knickers on is like a game of hoopla.
5. It takes an age to get comfortable and then you need to move round the house to stay mobile. Sitting hurts, laying down hurts and standing still is intolerable.
6. All your clothes look weird as you are so bent in the middle.
7. Going to the toilet requires 30 mins advance notice.
8. Wine only helps in small doses.
9. You are bored, so eat loads, but can’t move very well, so lardage is being gained.
10. You end up watching endless repeats of Homes in the Sun and Frasier. (Note: it’s not terminal as I have not sunk to the depths of Jeremy Kyle. Yet.)