I think it was the sneeze that broke the camel’s back.
At least it was the sneeze that broke mine.
It’s been a little bit weak ever since I painted the ceiling. The next morning, it kept nagging at me…grabbing me…making me all to aware that giving up a night of drinks with my friend Fancy in order to paint…was the absolute wrong thing to do.
It’s been bugging me for a few days…waking me during the night…making me feel a little more cranky than normal.
Friday night, sitting on the benches of the Lower Deck…as Eddie the waiter would drop by to see if we needed anything…I’d an inkling to ask him if he could rub my back or at least stand behind me so I could lean on him for a moment just to give it a wee little rest. But instead, for fear of sounding like an old and decrepit cougar, I’d just order another beer.
Yesterday, shovelling wheel-barrels full of horse crap was probably a mistake and in hindsight, I should have left the shit-shovelling to Bones but to be honest, I’d totally forgotten my back was even bothering me until last night…I burst forth a sneeze while getting off the couch and was rendered useless.
The pain…one I’ve experienced a few times before…kept me in a position that moving in any direction wasn’t an option but staying in one spot was just as bad so slowly…carefully…with sweat beading on my forehead…I straightened. Then, just as slowly, I made my way up to my room for a hot bath, a heating pad and a handful of pain meds and muscle relaxants.
Eventually, I settled in discomfort until Spidey and The Tall Blonde thought to pop in on me to see where I’d been. You know…hours in a house without having a sweet clue where your mother was might be a little disconcerting to some but not exactly to these two who jumped on my bed as I quickly screamed at them not to touch me!
I’m not entirely sure Spider-Man knew how bad my back was when he gave me a good-night kiss then ran his finger up the sole of my foot on his way out the door…but I’m pretty sure after he did it…he was all too aware that I hurt.
My night was miserable…I barely slept. Tossing and turning ever so carefully…trying to find the right spot to try to get comfortable while my back just nagged.
Now it’s morning.
I’m sitting here…cup of tea in hand hand…a little less worse than last night but I’ve a heating pad behind me and can’t put my feet up on the coffee table or cross my legs. My plan of staining the front deck today is not going to happen and I’m thinking I’ll do little of anything for the rest of the day.
Which has me wondering if the Lower Deck could do without Eddie for a couple of days.
I could use someone waiting on me hand and foot…maybe throw in a back rub…or a couple of beer.