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.
7 comments:
I'm not mom, but allow me to say, 'POOR BABY'. Can you get any Doan's out there? That being said, Tim has scoliosis, pretty badly, in his lower back. He swears by Ibuprofin.
Never had a back problem myself but I do know several people who have so I can sympathise with you, Mary.
Take it easy now, you hear?
Was your son repentant?
My kids laughed at me when I got hurt this morning. I sat on the edge of the tub (in pajama pants) to brush one of my seven-year-old twin's hair. She backed up into me, causing me to slide backwards. And fall in. And hit the back of my skull on the far side.
"Ha-ha-ha Dad... I can't wait to tell mom."
I'm moving pretty slowly this morning and won't be sitting for long (hurts too much).
Debby-Ibuprofen is what I could take until I can pick up some aspirin, which works better for this kind of thing, I think. Thanks for the sympathy.
Scotty--Thanks.
Hi Ray--'Hope your head is okay. Sometimes it's enough to make you wonder why you like 'em so much, isn't it? Daniel was both sympathetic and puzzled. He followed me out of the utility room stating that he didn't understand how I'd hurt myself as "It wasn't that heavy." I comforted myself with the fact that someday he'd be in his forties too.
Back to normal yet?
Get it.
'Back' to normal?!!!! Oh. I crack myself up!
*wanders off chuckling to herself*
Seriously, hope you're feeling better.
Back to normal? Me?
That's a bit like the old chestnut--"Doc when my broken arm heals up, will I be able to play piano." "Why certainly sir!" "Oh good! I've never been able to do that before."
One goofy joke deserves another. :)
Seriously, thanks. Yesterday was pretty uncomfortable, but I'm much better--just not dashing around yet.
Oh and ouch and oops. Sympathies, I have a dodgy back too and have to watch myself.
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