Awake-In a sense
Coherent-trying to be
Ready to get up-Oh not really at all
Feel like I’ve been rolled over by (a bunch of really mean eight year olds)
Have phone, will travel-almost dead
Ready for breakfast-I bought grits therefore, I will eat grits
Water-I forgot to buy that yesterday
Pain level (on a scale of 1-10) – 12 lumbar pinching , 8 thoracic throbbing. What did I pick up yesterday? Oh, one piece of steel. It didn’t feel heavy, but maybe the baby I had in my other arm had something to do with it. Dumb.
Ready for a nap – Not today Zurg!
Teach a class today? Hah.
Yoga today? Very gentle stretches. No twisting whatsoever.
GET UP!- Pain spreading down to my hips and sacrum. Six hundred milligrams might work today. Resist the urge to get into the fetal position.
STEP AWAY FROM THE COMPUTER- This time change has done a number on my writing time. I lose consciousness in the evening, like the tide is pulling me under.
Last night, we ate, she tried to bite my finger, then laughed. She found a piece of lettuce in the mouthful of food and somehow magically extracted it. The sensitivity of a child’s tongue is infamous. She seemed to have enough. Then it was bedtime. Hugs and stuffed toys flanked her. I came back to give her medication and she had her blanket on like a cape. Everyday, something new. She dared me to take the blanket. I gave her another-just in case. She is feisty and teething. Incisors. At least she doesn’t chew on shoes. Just the occasional finger or zipper that fits between her teeth.
She was still asleep until I typed “teeth.” I heard the sound of a mind popping wake. She hasn’t begun to sing yet.
I can feel my feet, but the shooting pain down my left leg is “special.” A solitary tear flows down my face. I’m not smiling. It’s going to be a long day.
Roll over on all fours to get the pain killer. Just an idea, haven’t done it yet. Is it raining outside or what? Osteoarthritis!!! I’m in better shape than most women my age-my ass. Better shape is relative. I’m out of MY shape and pain is pain.
GET UPPPPPPP!! I have taken the 600 milligrams and thrown the offending pillow into the doorway and ejected the sock. “There can be only one.” I’m like the damn princess and the pea. (The cranky hag and the sock.) Fetal position gives relief, now I wait.
I have stronger pain killer, really I do. There’s the question of consciousness. I can’t function if I’m unconscious on the floor drooling. Consciousness is gooood! Unconsciousness is bad!
False alarm, she is still asleep. That gives me, maybe, five more minutes.
46 minutes and I can move. She’s started singing, time to get up.