Monday, August 26, 2013

No fairsies!

This can't be happening!!! 

I eat right. I don't smoke or drink. I get plenty of sleep. I meditate. I exercise regularly...

SO WHY IS MY ASS ON FIRE!!!!!!!!

I have what my orthopedist calls radiculitis, also known as sciatica, also known as holy-mother-of-Christ-someone-please-remove-the-white-hot-vice-grip-from-my-hiny!

It's worse than child birth.

YES IT IS! 

At least child birth was reasonable. You know what to expect. Small space/big object/ouch. It makes perfect sense. You're pregnant. Baby's gotta come out. And there's only one way.

But sciatica makes no sense. It just decides to slice through your booty one day without warning.

And although you can get an epidural for sciatica like you can for childbirth, when you have sciatica, you have to wait at least...4 DAYS...

Ahhhhhhh!!!!!!!

First, you have to schedule an office visit with your doc, then get an MRI, then meet with your doc again, then go in for the shot. And that's if all parties above can squeeze you in sequentially one day after the other. For me, there's a weekend involved...

Kill me now.

I'd rather have a baby 4 days in a row, than endure this deep, sickening glute fire for what feels like an eternity.

I tried to work today. No dice. I tried to write this blog post from every weird body angle possible. Wasn't happening. And because I was able to shower and put on a cute dress before MY OWN BUTT ATTACKED ME, I decided to just put my makeup on, although I'd be going nowhere.

Then my friend Becca called with a number for an acupuncturist and I described the scene, "I'm in a sundress and full makeup, which is slightly smeared from crying over the pain, and I'm slumped sideways on my couch. One leg up on a pillow, the other on the floor, hair mussed from writhing in torture. I look like I've been date-raped and haven't gotten around to calling the police yet."

She stayed on the phone with me a little longer than she initially intended.  

I felt better after we hung up because she understood. Becca had her own version of back BS a few years ago. She walked bent forward for months, like those cute old ladies at church who look like they're searching for something on the floor...forever. 

But they're elderly! Becca and I are in our forties and really healthy. What gives??? All I know is my clean living isn't helping right now and I'm PISSED! 

I honestly thought when I felt my first twinge of pain a few days ago, it was because I had eaten a pint of Phish Food the night before. I literally said to my sister, "I did this to myself. I couldn't put down the ice cream. Sugar causes inflammation. F*uck Ben and f*ck Jerry." After three days off sugar, it's worse.

I'm not going back to my old ways, but I'm discouraged and feel like throwing a tantrum, which, in my condition, would send me to the hospital.

My dad brought me a pair of crutches a couple hours ago and I was able to stand for the first time all day without pain. After he left I stood for thirty minutes in the same spot in my living room in silence, staring at a painting my friend Steph made. I was grateful for the relief, grateful for my dad, and grateful for friends who give you free art.

I have some fresh hell ahead of me this week, so I'll just have to be patient. Not sure what I'll be able to do tomorrow, but I think I'll try penning an apology letter to a couple of guys in Vermont who make frozen treats.

Peace ow-t : (

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