So, Friday the 13th; the second Friday the 13th in a row.
I woke up with my back aching, a little, and in an unusual place. We here at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory know all about low back pain, but this was. . .higher. In accordance with my Usual Procedures in re back pain, I swallowed a couple aspirin and took myself to town to run errands (among which was purchasing make-up, something I do…seldom. Boy, has makeup changed. Though I did see a eyebrow stencil. Haven’t seen one of those since my grandmother’s vanity. But I digress.)
By the time I got home, the back pain was. . .annoying. I took another couple aspirin and lay down on a heating pad for 45 minutes before the afternoon meal, only to find when I arose to eat that the pain. . .was worse.
A lot worse.
And I now had additional pain, in my right arm, plus I was also slightly sick to my stomach. We consulted. Steve called my doctor, because by this point, the pain in my back was shooting off fireworks of more intense pain utilizing a playlist of its own devising, and it was all I could do to stay upright.
The doctor’s office gave us a 4:00 appointment and we arrived in some disorder, Steve driving. In due time, I was examined, several possibilities were dismissed for the moment, though held in reserve, in case of This or That manifesting.
Muscle relaxants and pain medicine were prescribed, and filled, and taken with dispatch.
I spent the rest of Friday afternoon on my back on the heating pad, listening to my mp3 player, which was a lifesaver, since it turned out that I had misjudged the number of T3 I ought take — I have never in the past needed more than one to get any pain down to a manageable level — and so prolonged my period of pain. I took two T3 when the second hit was allowed, and more muscle relaxants, listened to Steve read the next chapter of The Kif Strike Back, and so to sleep, surrounded by coon cats.
Yesterday was pretty much sitting in the big blue chair, dozing-reading-dozing, and the early part of today, also. I believe the situation is now under control — and I have a whole new level of pain to use as a benchmark.
This afternoon, I’m going to show up at the work-in-progress and see if, indeed, my brain has recovered from his brief fling with narcotics.
In other news!
It’s snowing in East Winslow.
Today’s blog title brought to you by Matchbox 20, “3am”. Here’s your link.