So, I threw out my back on Wednesday night. Went to a new chirpractor who took an xray first and, lo and behold, I have scoliosis. I should be 5 inches taller he told me (can he make me 5 years younger too?) and that much of any discomfort in my daily life can be attributed to this.
Fine, he adjusts me for my initial reason for coming (I'll go back to start the other stuff to make me taller and less bloated, I guess) and sent me on my way.
And I was better. Cut to a day and a half later -- today -- and I feel a little twingey, but still think I can pick up a small table at a friend's house (thanks Brian!). I did and immediately, I'm in agonizing pain. It's like somebody is punching me in my lower back and hip repeatedly (you know, just where the chiropractor adjusted me).
I finally make it home and Carl goes out for the requisite heating pad, muscle relaxant, muscle spray, anything...mostly probably to get away from my Baby Jane self.
And, so, I'm left in my sickbed, and the only thing the puppy wants to do is jump up and down on my in-agony body or lick me in the face...and there was no way for me to summon the strength to push him away. I love the puppy, but come on, already, catch a bird, play with the other dog, dig a plant. Finally, he just plops down at my feet, then my head, then my feet. Fine, just please God, no jumping on the the family jewels, legs, chest, face, anywhere and quit the licking. Thank you.
Now, I'm on wine and muscle relaxants and the puppy's asleep. So, I guess it didn't end as poorly as I might have feared. I'm off to watch the rest of Liza with a Z because I can't sit any longer (yes, I watch standing up like I'm at a cocktail party because sitting is too painful -- I found a relatively less painful way to sit at this computer, hence this missive).
Soon, another muscle relaxant and back to bed. In six months, I may be 5 inches taller.