Greetings from Gotham! Having a wonderful time with the grandkids, of course, butt…
Backstory…During the iciest days of February, while climbing out of the van at our local shopping center, I put out my foot onto a slippery spot of ice and just slid to the ground; the doorjamb of the mini hit my lower back, my shoulder blade, and I conked my head before I found myself sprawled, surprised and a little scared, on the ice floe called the parking lot. After making sure nothing was broken and that I was truly conscious, I pulled myself together and traipsed on. My back had a small bruise, about the size of a cookie, just to the right of my spine; my shoulder hurt more than the bruise, and if I had a concussion we’ll just never know.
It was nearly 2 weeks later that I woke in the night with pain that felt like a kidney stone. The discomfort passed in about an hour, but left me with some residual tenderness in my lower back that intermittently would become severe. The pain was increasing to excruciating and I thought I might have to cancel my trip, and probably should have, but 1) I’m too cheap; 2) I didn’t want to disappoint; 3) I live by the motto that if I ignore it, surely it will just go away.
The flight here was awful. I know that my fellow flyers to either side of me were not amused as I constantly shifted and groaned. I had brought plenty of ibuprofen and even raided my 2-year-old stash of tabs just in case, but by the time I checked into the Jose’ Casa, after a killer taxi ride, I was griping non-stop. I felt fine when walking, but sitting was out of the question. Sleeping was fair if I stayed flat on my back, and constant grumbling helped.
Sooo… There is a doctor at Melissa’s church who does charitable work for the community, and I became a charity case. I saw him on Monday, but he didn’t have anything to treat me with, so I made arrangements to see him again today. In the meantime, I ran Eliza all over town; though I felt slightly out of shape, I didn’t think I was hurting my back… I was, though. The pain has worsened, moving into my entire buttock and burning like a whatever burns bad. Tonight the good doctor gave me 2 injections of lidocaine, no steroid, and told me he hoped it helped. I can’t tell yet.
Because I can’t sit for very long, I’ve not been able to see the Muppets Most Wanted—bummer– and I’ve mostly hung around the apartment with Melissa and the kids. I always eat well when I’m here and last night’s margaritas gave me the most relief I’ve had in a week or so. I am planning to do some extensive walking tomorrow, maybe the MOMA? and definitely Central Park.
I have a new compassion for the many people who have complained to me about their back over the years, but I don’t really want to join the Constant Complainer Club. I’m stretching and lifting with my knees and all that great physical therapy stuff… I just hope the flight home doesn’t kill me…