Ok, so I lost all blogging momentum for a while. It happens. Meh.
Meanwhile...
While working on some of the finishing touches to get our old condo ready to put on the market, I injured my back. It was either spending several hours on my hands and knees shhpackling the inside storage compartments of the 2 window seats , or the acrobatic limbo style move I made to get up from cleaning under the bathroom sink. Probably both... since the MRI showed I slipped THREE discs, all at my lumbar.
This happened on Sunday February 5th. It hurt, and it was hard to walk that night, but overall, it was just a tolerable "aw crap I jacked my back" situation. Those happen to me from time to time, and usually get better in 3 to 4 days.
By the following Saturday, I was finally starting to feel like I could be normal again. We went to a going away party for Shanna and Raphael. Two of the sweetest, most thoughtful people I have ever had the pleasure of working with. Like Kris and I, they were one of a shrinking number of married couples at Griptonite. It is a strange thing to have all your co-workers know you, and your spouse so well. I can only imagine the assumptions people make about us. *shudder*
Following the dinner, Kris and I went to Target to get stuff.
OOH! Sale on vats of laundry detergent! That doesn't spoil! Let's get two!
Putting them in the cart from the shelf? No problem!
Putting them in the cart from the cash register? TWANG.
Though, to be clear, it wasn't an actual twang. There was just a kind of - ungh. Walking to the car was painful, but not to the point where I was making sounds or anything.
We get home, I go straight for the bed, and I stayed there until morning. (Uh.. this, in retrospect, was a bad idea)
Sunday morning, I try to get up. Can't. I have Kris come over to help... we get me to a seated position. SCREAM. SCREAM. SCREAM. No, really, SCREAM. I lay back down. Kris brings me the phone and I call the nurse help line. They suggest taking 2 Aleve, putting a heating pad on it, and wait an hour before trying to get up to go to the bathroom again.
An hour later, Kris helps me as I cry my way to the bathroom. I need to pee and I will be peeing in the toilet today thank you very much. Each step hurting more than the last. The act of sitting? SCREAM! Trying to even wipe myself? HA! (Yes, this is yet another trademark TMI Tamara story. My husband is a saint.) Getting up? SCREAM SCREAM! I scream with each step back to the bedroom. I somehow end up back in the bed, and am confronted with "The Pain"
It would feel appropriate to say that it was the worst pain I have ever endured, but the pain from being stung by a Portuguese Man of War jellyfish will probably always take top honors. This, however, was DAMN close to that. I literally could not stop screaming. Kris was flinching with each scream that came out. I was able to find the presence of mind to cry out the word "Ambulance" in between screams. Kris wanted to avoid calling 911, so he called the nurse line to see if they could arrange for an ambulance. Sadly, my dear husband was told that he had to call 911 to help his wife.
My lead EMT, Josh, was a force of soothing calmness. Damn he was awesome. I don't remember the other people's names, but they were all awesome.
It was my first ambulance ride ever. Damn, those things are rough and bumpy. I had always envisioned that they would be cushiony rides. NOPE.
Part 2: The Hospital and Beyond coming whenever the hell I get to it.
