I was so looking forward to Derby Day. I love the race, and I was going to enjoy the company of lots of friends at two different parties. Earlier in the day I was going to plant the herbs I bought the Friday before the big race. And then everything changed.
Going home Friday afternoon I tried to relieve the nagging ache I'd been experiencing in my right hip by sitting more on my left side. I could barely get out of the car once Scott and I made it to my house. I'd screwed up my back. GRRRR! My back went out last September and while I wasn't in pain all the time, everything wasn't completely back to normal, either, because every once in awhile I'd have sciatic nerve pain down my left or right leg, or my back muscles would tighten up. But it was fleeting and I tried to ignore it. There was no ignoring it that evening.
So I spent Friday night and Saturday morning in bed, taking muscle relaxers and using a heating pad. Talk about making me feel old! Then I called my friends and told them I wouldn't be making it to either party. I was grumpy and frustrated and thought it was a bad Derby Day for me. Little did I know!
By 6 p.m., when the horses were called to the post for the big race, I was writhing in pain and crying. My left leg was screaming in pain, from my hip down to my toes. I vaguely was aware of the race itself, mostly because no matter how much pain I was in, I would be a huge social faux pas to call someone in Louisville right before the race. So I waited all of 5 minutes after Street Sense blew the other vaulted horses away and called Mom to take me to the emergency room.
That's right, folks! I spent Derby night at the hospital, and didn't even have any fun (and alcohol) to blame it on. By the time Mom got me back in my bed, my leg was still killing me, but I had good drugs in my system. Unfortunately, the problem persists, even a week and a half later (and on my first day back at work). My left foot is still numb, sitting is uncomfortable and requires pain medication to ease the worst of it, my herbs are still in their little plastic cups (but are hanging on so far), and there's no end in sight. I missed my cousin's graduation in California (sorry, Cole!!!!), and the trip Mom and I had planned on taking to Yosemite and San Francisco after our stop in L.A. Last night I had an MRI (that was Hell!), and there is apparently enough to go by that the doctor wants to send me to a neuro- or orthopedic surgeon to discuss treatment options. Not fun.
So, this is the reason for a lack of posts recently, and for a lack of much else of interest to talk about. I've been couped up in bed confirming my opinion of daytime television (worse than TV in general!) and going rather stir crazy. I'm back at work, but am wiped out by the effort. And the immediate future isn't looking too bright, either. But, by gum, I'm going on my trip to Cape Cod next week, unless some doctor specifically tells me it will induce permanent and unfixable damage!