I woke up this morning because of a pain in my leg. It felt like the beginnings of a cramp, so I stood up quickly, hoping that I could work it out before it got too intense. That didn’t work at all.
Instead of causing the pain to dissipate, it caused it to get significantly worse. I limped into the bathroom and braced myself against the wall while I peed. The day went downhill pretty quickly after that.
By seven o’clock this morning, I was curled up on the floor, wondering why my body was trying to kill itself. By eight, I was in a bathtub full of scalding hot water, hoping it would help work out whatever was wrong—I was still thinking pulled muscle. By nine, my princess was back home, scheduling a doctor appointment for me. The appointment was at 9:40. By eleven, I was munching down muscle relaxants and prescription pain killers.
The vicodin started kicking in around noon, and I thought I was going to be a-ok for the rest of the day. Because I’m a sucker.
About an hour later, the pain came back with a vengeance, and the only way I was able to tolerate it was by sitting straight up in my office chair (I tried the couch, but apparently, it’s too low to the ground, and bending my leg from that height is torture).
The bad news for you is, you have to listen to me bitch and whine about how much it hurts. The good news is, I’m forced to dope myself up on pain killers and muscle relaxants, and then stay sitting at my desk. And since I’m sitting here anyway, maybe I’ll get some writing done.
Looks like I might have to stay home for a couple more days, anyway—the doctor said if it got worse, “You know, like if your leg starts dragging behind you when you walk, or if you start peeing your pants,” I should go to the emergency room. I kind of hoped she was joking about the pants peeing thing, but apparently that’s a feasible option when you mess up your sciatic nerve.
Oh, did I mention it’s my sciatic nerve? It is. Sorry to have skipped over the main part of the story—I blame pain meds. So, yeah, sciatic nerve, which, uh…I don’t really know what that is, except for a little epicenter of agony that makes it feel like someone is driving rusty spikes through my feet, and ripping the muscles out of my legs.
Anyway, that’s all I’m going to say about this bullshit until I’m healed up, at which point I’ll proclaim, “I’m healed!”