I have been worthless since Wednesday night. No work for me Thursday or Friday. I can't work if I can't move. I mean, technically, I could sit in my chair and do computer work. But I wouldn't have been able to get into the building unescorted by a wheelchair, and the thought of the trek from my cube to the restroom had my heart panicking in fear. And my wee-wee. It's still a little bit panicked at the thought of going in tomorrow, I'm still not moving around all agile like. Right now I'm sitting on my required 30-minutes with the ice pack. And it's a pleasure to do so.
I'm worried, Reader. I have done NOTH. ING. since Wednesday night when I returned home from the bone cracker in a crying heap. My phone's ringing now, but there's no chance I could get to it so why bother making the effort? See!? That's been the whole attitude for four days now.
And I'm on so much pain medication, I can't even think clearly to use my immobile time for good vs. lazy. I had all sorts of intentions on Thurs & Fri of getting my laptop from work, but then it was eight o'clock in the evening when I finally noticed the time. Vicodin four times a day (as prescribed) will do that to you.
I finally got a new prescription yesterday, it's an anti-inflammatory drug. Not the one my chiro recommended, but my family doctor is so lame, I am grateful he called in anything for me to try. Not unprompted, of course. Why in the hell he never gave me something like this from the beginning, I'll never know, he is a terrible doctor and I'm going to be searching for a new one as soon as this mess of my body blows over.
The house is a disaster. My hair stylist asked me if Kenny was taking care of all the housework. Um. right. If by taking care of all the housework, you mean bringing in take out to eat, then yes, he's taking care of all the housework.
I will admit to being in so much pain/discomfort all I've wanted to do is shovel comfort food into my face. Pair that with immobility, and I've probably added another 10 pound cushion to my body.
The rundown has included Popeye's chicken, a pot pie from Bob Evans, Chipotle, Taco Bell, and a meal at a truck stop when we went for a ride late Friday night so I could get out of the house. The sitting position doesn't bother me, it's the laying down (so comfortable sleep is impossible) and walking around that does me in.
While we were at the truck stop the bathrooms were all the way around the back of the building. Kenny went and counted at least a hundred steps. I determined that I didn't have a hundred steps in me and had to wait until I got home.
I'm pretty sure there's a whole entire blog in here just about ending up at a truck stop diner at 1:00 a.m., but I don't have that in me, either.
He left today, he's going to southern Ohio with his mom to see his ex-girlfriend's son graduate. Yep, you read that correctly. Whatever floats your boat, as long as I don't have to go. I think they are going to spend the night since it's a 3-hour drive, so I'm looking forward to Sunday Alone Time. If only I could move around better to really enjoy it.
Only 52 weekends per year. I have not maximized this one.
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