not-so funday

i landed myself in the ER on sunday. i wish i could reveal this terrific experience that was all to blame, however it was anything but. greeting jack after a long night's sleep, i'm was face-to-face with the cutie pie, changing the typical morning diaper. i zip his jammies back up and with one solid sweeping motion, i picked him up and twisted to place him on the floor beside the table... yeeeoowooowza! i fell to my knees about the time his feet hit the floor, and in an instant, i thought i was going to throw up from the intense pain. so there i was, on all fours, struggling to take a breath, trying to understand where the knife came from now lodged in my back. all the while, getting pelted with matchbox cars and attempting to be the horsey to jack's impulse game of cowboy. i crawled to my phone, still not able to take a full breath. a few phone calls to ben, and nana lynn and auntie lory were to the rescue! in the meantime, i found a spot on the sofa on my back, with my knees up that held me over until they arrived. jack managed to continue throwing most of his toys at me, along with pinching my bare legs. his attempts to use me as a ladder to get onto the sofa sent me into yet another fit of crying. he backed off (somewhat) when he noticed the hysterics were not laughter but something similar to what he does regularly... when he doesn't get his way. (see: the onset of terrible twos) i still got the see-n-say thrown on my gut two or three times, and the mister potato head (the large roughly 2-gallon size carrying case, mind you) heaved at me more times than i could count. about that time, my lovely, gorgeous, angelic neighbor tracy came to check on me. ben had called josh and urged him to have tracy peek her head in. she found me in tears, and jack with a grin the size of texas on his face. she played goalie until the miebs ladies arrived.

nana lynn accompanied me to the ER. and what a relief to walk in and have no one else waiting - that never happens! the fantastic nurses triaged me in an exam room, rather than having me sit upright in a chair. the doc came in within the hour, and discovered i had pulled the large muscle that spans across the back, left side. knowing my father had back surgery some-odd years past and all the back pain i had throughout my pregnancy, i'm continuously nervous about that sort of injury. so thank the good Lord it was just a mean ol' muscle. got a shot of something nice and airy and within minutes, i could take a full breath, extend my legs and like lynn had stated, uncurl my toes. we headed for home, aiming for the glorious king-size bed. i was alseep within the hour, dreaming of rainbows, pretty flowers and bunnies, i'm sure; that little shot contained magic pixie dust for all i'm concerned.

monday came and went. laid in bed, swallowed a horse pill every 4-6 hours and that was that. tuesday arrived, and i started to think perhaps my back was still hurting because i'd been in bed for two days straight. getting up and walking around felt great. tossed the pain pills in the trash and never felt the need for more. how people get hooked on these little dizzy capsules, i'll never understand.

the thing i think is comical about the whole injury situation is this: people love to correct you when you've done something wrong. actually, this in its self is an entirely different topic. but for this case, i had several people instruct me how to properly lift jack and other such "heavy" objects. humans: i know you're trying to help, but once you do something wrong, you realize quickly that it was a mistake. kinda reminds me of something my grandfather use to say... child says, "well, it hurts when i do this, it hurts when i move it like that" my grandpa says, "well, don't do that anymore." simply stated but du-uh!