I came home from a meeting this afternoon to hear my washing machine making a strange humming sound. Not a happy "off-to-work we go" humming sound, not a meditative "I am one with the rhythms of the universe" sound, but the sound that a hive of bees makes when it's growing more annoyed by the minute.
Daniel had overloaded it, stuffing two blankets and a large dog bed cushion in together. "Come," I told him. "You're going to see how to fix this."
I've pulled heavy items out of this washing machine probably thousands of times without incident. Today I tugged on the dog's cushion, hauling upwards with both hands and something in my lower back popped (I swear it was audible). A brand new level of pain radiated across my lower back and hips. I left Daniel to finish unstuffing the washing machine as I whimpered expletives and crawled off into a corner and laid down. No, I'm not exaggerating.
I've "thrown my back out" before (It's gotten considerably better since I've started exercising regularly again, but I'm obviously not in tip-top shape yet), but nothing quite like this. So I did what any woman in her forties does when she's in pain and wants an "ooh poor baby". I crawled to the phone and called my mother. It is also handy that she has a long history of back problems herself, stemming from being tossed by a half-wild horse she wasn't supposed to be on when she was high school. At her advice, I've taken a mouthful of ibuprofene and am slightly better at the moment. She also made the appropriate "poor baby" sounds.
However, I am returning to my piece of floor now. No more sitting tonight, I think.
Just thought I'd share.