Humpty Dumpty's Back on the Wall
Updates, updates, updates. I've attempted this several times and ended up with nada. There is no long-story-short version. Consider yourself warned.
Wednesday: The garage called with an update on my car. The serpentine belt was toast. The radiator was full of sludge. I asked them to call my dad with the news. I couldn't take it. I was tired and hurting and couldn't even begin to process the info. Hell, I didn't know if this stuff was necessary - that's my dad's forte.
Later that day, the garage calls back to say the car is done. My mom takes me down to the garage. The guys all come over to say hello. (This is a really nice bunch of people.) We chat for a bit and then they hand me my keys. The manager tells me that my dad left me a special envelope in the car. Free oil change coupons. Not only did he float me the loan for the repairs, he's making sure I'm set for the next few months for oil. I'm thisclose to tears - my dad will do these things every once in a while and surprise the hell out of me. The manager tells me how lucky I am and I have to agree...
After I get home, I'm finally beginning to relax. It's all done, nothing else looming, right? Wrong. Apparently I do better stressed than I do relieved because I went into total back spasm. Grrrrr! Oh well, that's what pain meds and ice packs are for.
Thursday: After barely two hours of sleep, I head out to PT. I do my stretches and end up with my first real massage since surgery. I was finally able to get down on the table and let the therapist work my whole back. Practically two months since the operation and that's the first time I've been able to lie down for a real massage.
After that, I ask if we can check my range-of-motion measurements. I gained a lot of ground there, despite missing several appointments. I do my homework, you know?
Forward - chin-to-chest, if you will - 60 degrees. Last time it was around 50. My first visit, I was at 41.
Back - looking up - 21 degrees. I'd been at 5. It still hurts like hell and makes me dizzy, but I can get to 23 degrees after stretching and a massage.
Rotate Left - 23 degrees. I was at 12.
Rotate Right - 27 degrees. 9 was the last measurement.
Great news, great strides, exceeded their goals for me. But it all hurts like a mofo. Eh, that's life sometimes.
Spent the rest of the day with ice packs and naps.
Late meeting and missed the Survivor premiere. Don't laugh. I take my amusement where I can find it.
Friday: Achingly get up and get my ass down to the surgeon's office. He's an hour and a half behind schedule. While I'm sitting there, cringing and internally whinging (my cute radiology tech isn't there), I end up talking with a woman who is two weeks out from the same procedure. We compare notes and both feel a little better. Our experiences are very similar and I'm feeling a little more normal.
I'm finally called back and figure I have a while before the doc comes in, so I lay down. I actually drift off to sleep. Two minutes later, my wonderful doctor opens the door. We talk. I show him my "report card" from PT. He's pleased. I tell him that I'm paying for the progress and ask for trigger point injections. I'm rewarded with two needles jammed in my back, leaving me feeling slightly better. Hey, I take whatever relief I can get.
I get done with the appointment and stop by Time Warner to pay my bill. It seems they're giving away money or something, the line's so damn long. A couple of phone calls make it easier to keep standing there. Or maybe not. Grumble, grumble. From TW, I head over to pick Little Dude up from school. One of his classmates has brought her two cats to school at the end of the day for sharing. They're a big hit with the s and they don't seem to mind all the pawing they get. I finally convince my son that there's an ice cream cone with his name on it at McDonald's and we leave. Note: our McD's has the best value in town. For 49 cents, it's all good.
Next up, two hours of bookstore goodness. Reading books for free. And then dinner with my friend and his daughter. I drop LD off at his dad's house and head home exhausted, sore, but happy. I love spending time with him.
My latest crush
Once home, I take care of the email that's built up all day and then begin a love letter to my latest crush. Don't laugh. It's not nice. A girl's gotta dream.
Almost everything on my list is done so I'm going to attempt to sleep. TTFN!
(See? I told you there was no long-story-short to be found here.)