OmegaDad says "See?! See?!"
“See what happens when you start going to the gym and exercising and stuff like that? I don’t do stuff like that, and you don’t see me getting injured!”
The shit.
I have thrown out my back. Or pulled a muscle. Or it’s hysterical hypochondria. Or something.
I was off at the wreck center yesterday, and did half an hour on the recumbent bike. Recumbent bikes are supposed to be ergonomic, aren’t they?! But the difference between Level 2 and Level 3 on this bike was…um…excessive. Really. I start to wonder if the damned thing isn’t broken or something.
Because, when I got off, my hip was killing me.
And as I dressed, it was killing me more.
And as I went to meetings and stuff that afternoon, if I twisted ever so slightly the wrong way, it was like someone was sticking a dagger into my lower back and upper butt.
So I spent today trying to baby myself. Hah. An hour in bed with the ice pack left me feeling stiff as a board. There’s a Spot, a very distinct Spot, that is somewhat swollen. Ibuprofen ain’t doing a thing. Naproxen ain’t doing a thing.
Off to the doc tomorrow a.m.
Grr.
Oh, yes, and the dotter is obviously All Shook Up. We have had tantrums and scenes in the morning and evening every day this week. Our suspicion is that there’s just Too Much Going On for her–end of preschool, camp, the move (which we told her about this weekend), the hair…life is tough for a five-year-old.
Pity me. Wah.
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