I promised myself that I would post every Tuesday and Friday and I’m going to keep my promise. This will be short, however, and not carefully proofread and edited.  That’s because this morning I had a muscle spasm in my back that sent me to Urgent Care, who diagnosed the spasm, gave me a shot of muscle relaxant and sent me home feeling just fine, thank you very much.  Better living through chemistry.  My brain is still feeling the effects of those chemicals, and my back is feeling O.K.  I’m not going to write much, though, because who knows what I might say if I keep writing stream of consciousness for too long under the effects of these meds?!

My back was twitchy at breakfast, but I headed off for my training session at the gym anyway.  I’d tell Mr. Trainer about my back and he’d help me do the proper stretches.  He’s great about working with those of us who have special needs.  I warmed up on the treadmill, nice and slowly, and my back felt fine.  With a few minutes left before my session, I decided to stretch, and then rest.  I put one ankle up on a banister that’s about four feet high and stretched (For those who don’t know this, I’m pretty tall).  Felt great.  Did the same with the left ankle.  That felt great, too.  The problem came when I tried to get my left foot back on the floor.  I got it there, but that’s when my back rebelled.  I doubled over in pain and stood with my arm on the banister for an eternity, although it was probably only five minutes.  I guess I looked like I was lounging nonchalantly before starting my workout.  No one gave me a second thought and a group of women streamed past me, headed upstairs for some type of class.  I was in too much pain to call out for help.  I saw Mr. Trainer across the suddenly huge lobby, looking at the clock over his head and wondering where I was.  I inched my way out to the middle of the lobby and sat down cross-legged on the floor.  Looked weird, I’m sure, but creativity’s important at times like this and this put me close enough to Mr. Trainer that I could wave my arm and get his attention.  This was important since I was still in too much pain to call out.  If you’ve been in a similar situation with your back, you know what I mean.

Since Mr. Trainer is familiar with back problems, he knew how to help.  He helped me up and talked me through the pain.  He and another trainer helped me lie down on a yoga mat, and a staff member brought me an energy drink.  They all took good care of me.  We called my husband, Mr. Trainer explained the situation and Mark came immediately.  So much for Mark’s workday!  Mark called my doctor, I explained what was happening and that’s how I ended up at Urgent Care.  Oh, yeah, Mark and Mr. Trainer pushed me out from the gym to my car on a wheeled desk chair.  I decided that would be more fun than a wheelchair, and they agreed.  I think that’s how it went down, but I’m sure they remember better than I do.

By the time I arrived at Urgent Care, I couldn’t stand up straighter than a 90 degree angle.  I looked at the triage person, told him I felt great except for a problem with my back. I laughed and the rest is history.  The Urgent Care staff was great. By the time I left, I had a care plan, a prescription, and would have been happy to touch my toes if they’d let me.  That shot was super effective. 

See what I mean about still being under the influence, however?  I was going to write a short blog and this one full of run-on sentences doesn’t qualify.  I’ve never had back problems before.  This gives me a whole new ability to empathize with those who do.  Bye for now.