That age…
Boy, was yesterday a day to end all days or what?
As you might have read in the last post, I’m experiencing a bout of un-wellness. I was feeling better yesterday so I decided to try and knock out some of the things on my to-do list that had continued to grow despite my attempts to ignore it by being sick.
One of those items that had to be done was rearranging my storage room. It seems that all my hacking and coughing has placed an inordinate amount of stress on my back and when I went to left one of my storage trunks my back gave way. I collapsed on the ground praying for the storage gods to rain trunks upon my personage and just end it all right there. Alas, it wasn’t to be. So instead of enjoying the sweet bliss that only non-existence could provide I had to endure quite possibly the most painful experience of my life - some unholy form of muscle spam in my lower back. To put it into perspective, my motorcycle wreck was less painful.
To make a long story short, I wound up taking an ambulance to the emergency room as I was unable to walk. It’s been about 12 hours since I left the hospital and after a morphine shot, two muscle relaxant shots, two Robaxin pills, a Vicadin pill and one gargantuan ibuprofen pill later I feel better. A lot better - I can walk and more importantly go to the bathroom; which is surprisingly difficult when your lower back is out of commission.
Who knew a muscle spasm could hurt so badly?
So in the last two days I’ve been poked, prodded, violated, pin cushioned and examined to death. From this day forward I don’t plan on being sick ever again. If I never see another doctor again, it’ll be too soon.