Mimosa Mama

So, I’ve pulled my neck or upper back or something.  I don’t know what I did.  Fucked it up royal somehow.

It was hurting, then got better, so I got back on my Wii Fit a couple of days ago, and right in the middle of the triangle pose (yoga), I felt a knife behind my left shoulder blade, and I was stuck.  Triangle pose is not a pretty place to be stuck.

At any rate, I can’t move my head.  It shoots pain up through my neck, which makes driving a challenge.  If there is a car coming, I have to hope I can see it with pure peripheral vision, so I just glance and gun it across the intersections.  So far it’s worked.

I went to see my chiropractor, who can never hide his amusement when I am in pain.  I think the son of a bitch actually looks forward to it.

I said, “Please don’t hurt me!” which fell on deaf ears.

He pushed on the front of me, which hurt, then announced that I’ve got rib(s) out.

To his credit he didn’t break out his little activator thingy.  He knows that I know that little clicky thing doesn’t really do anything.  He said we will try some ultrasound heat thing that we’ve never done before.  After thanking him for not trying to trick me with the activator, he said, “Ya, that thing only cost me $700, and the ultrasound machine cost me $2,200, so it’s a lot less fake.”

Did it work?  Who knows?  It was no miracle for sure.  And I need a miracle.

I told him I wished he could dispense drugs – I really need muscle relaxers.  Then he reminded me that I’ve got muscle relaxer in my fridge, and that one glass wouldn’t touch it.  No.  It would take two.  Sometimes, albeit very rarely, I love that man.

I had a business meeting yesterday out of town, with my boss, so I got online to find out how much ibuprofen is safe to take.  800 mg, as it turns out, is safe.  So I took that at 4 am yesterday.  It let me move enough to shower and get my sorry ass to work.

Right before leaving at 9, as I was almost back to not being able to move again, I thought, “Hey, if 800 mg is ‘safe’ then surely I can take 1,000 mg.  They’re always real conservative on stuff like that.” So I took five 200 mg tablets.

Just before putting on my coat I checked one more time for side effects, and as it turns out diarrhea is one of the bonuses of taking too much.  That made me laugh, because my boss does not take kindly to that kind of adventure.

When I told her that we might need to bring some tp with in case I started screaming for her to pull over on the side of the interstate, she swore that if I did that she would take off and leave me with my pants down on the side of the road.  Not to be outsmarted I told her fine, if that’s how she wanted to play this thing, I would just silently shit my pants in her fancy little car.  Ha!  She had nothing for that!  I won the argument.

As it turns out I didn’t take enough for the gloriously promised diarrhea.  Valuing a good cleansing like I do, I was almost looking forward to it.  Plus I like to push my boss to her little limits sometimes.  It’s good for her.

What got me to thinking about this whole damned thing this morning was the fact that I hate when people post every ache and pain, and/or every slight or act of meanness by some asshole, on Facebook.  I’m determined not to be that chick.  I like to keep my posts light and witty.  I’ve no use for an online pity party.  I am not a victim.  Like, ever.

Oh, sure, I have times when I feel the urge to play the role of victim, but it so unhealthy, and frankly unattractive.  If you have ever posted “FML” like EVER, you might be a victim, and it’s likely I hide your from my own wall, ‘cause you’re such a constant downer.  I cannot unfriend you, because you would notice that, and I risk becoming just another in a long line of assholes who mistreat you through no fault of your own.

You think it’s easy being cheesy?  No.  It takes a lot of mental effort to stay ‘up’ all the time.  But I own my life.  I own my attitude, for better or worse.  And people that don’t, well, I just wanna fucking bitch slap sometimes.

(Ironically I do seem to be blogging about my pain, but not in a way as to induce pity of any kind, so please do not send me any kind of well wishes.  Obviously I don’t deserve it.)