Thursday, November 12, 2009

sidelined

Well my career of cleaning houses has hit a rough patch. I seem to have a pinched nerve in my neck, at least that's the only explanation I've got for the pain from my ear to wrist along with the various aches along the right side of my back and the fact that my hands go numb at night. I saw a doctor yesterday, with the kids since they were off for Veteran's Day, what fun. And I got an X-ray of my cervical spine. So I'm supposed to take it easy and pop 800mg of ibuprofen and if I don't improve by next week I can start physical therapy - yeah! Nothing like squelching my source of additional income with an injury that will probably negate any money I made after the co-pays for all the doctors visits are paid for.

One thing I omitted on the previous post was that the woman who gave me the massage last week apologized for it taking a while to schedule an appointment with her. Apparently she had had three clients die within the past week. When she told me this my initial thought was, do I really want hands that seem to be a harbinger of death on my body? But then I swatted that superstitious thought away, I was just being silly. Now I'm not so sure. My entire right side, above my hips, is in pain. I've been dealing with some other pain too though. My Dad came to visit me last week and, though it was wonderful to see him, I think Jabba the hut is more active. Okay, that might not be fair, I picked him up from the bus stop and he was easily winded, he's having problems with his left lung and was supposed to get a chest cat scan this week.

But he stayed for five days and at this point in my life, which is more than a little stressful, if you can't help me out at all when you visit (okay he did do a few loads of laundry but that includes his own stuff) I can't handle the additional stress. I had driven to Home Depot for 15 minutes and in that space of time Oona took my knitting off the needles (I make it a point of impaling them into my ball of yarn), dumped the contents of my purse and drew cat whiskers on her face with my lipstick. When I came in my Dad was oblivious to this, which happened in the living room where he was sitting not 5 feet away from her. He would go up the street every morning to the Rite Aid where he'd pick up couple papers and spend the day on the crossword puzzles, followed by suduko and then he would read while I did my daily beheaded chicken dance of the beleaguered mom. I asked my Dad if he could leave a day early so I could gut my kitchen ceiling, yes I am insane. He did and we had a lovely last night out for dinner where he paid. I was going to treat him for his birthday but he insisted on paying, he'd come into money since winning in fantasy baseball - woohoo!

What am I doing up so late, again?! I've got to pop some mega ibuprofen, get to bed and hope I don't wake up feeling like elves have pummeled my back and torso during the night.

1 comment:

Elise A. Miller said...

ah, bungling, bumbling, absurdly unhelpful grandparents. I feel your pain, sister.

and

Nice cookies!