IT ONLY HURTS WHEN I LAUGH

"Men grow old...Pearls grow yellow....There's no cure."
.....Chinese proverb






Long... and this is the abridged version.

What a comedy of errors. It began Wednesday. I was racing around in the usual Donna fashion, last minute, throwing the house into order before Kevin came home from a business trip.

To be honest with you, I had taken the few days of his absence off from the usual routine around the house so that Gavin and I could just lounge around and play games and really capitalize on our one on one time. We didn’t plan any big meals. We did homework late at night. We played games, watched kid movies and cuddled a lot.

Although we missed daddy terribly, having a few days with less structure was kind of nice. Don’t get me wrong, Kevin in no way demands strict structure or a rigid routine. It just works best for all of us to stick to a rough schedule with our busy lives.

So there it was, Wednesday morning and my man was due home from his trip in a few hours.

Now you should know that my idea of housework is to sweep the room with a glance (KIDDING, I just love that line and thought it was a great opportunity to throw it in) but as I looked around the house I realized that time was not on my side and I’d better get busy.

I must say that I was pretty impressed with my progress. I was moving like a DVD player fast forwarding at X4 speed. Miraculously, things were in near perfect order when The Man of the House walked in, and it couldn’t have been more rewarding.

As it turns out, my traveling man was really looking forward to returning to the comfort of his safe haven and his family. I felt both proud and happy that I had created such a warm and welcoming place for him to come home to……

Now, let’s move on to the REAL purpose for this post. Thursday morning. Gavin and I were rushing around the house (as usual) getting ready for school, when I had a few sudden and quite painful back spasms. “YEEEEEOW” I yelped, as the first one hit…..”WHAT THE HECK???” I screamed at the second. And by noon, I could barely walk. Neither standing nor sitting was an easy task, in fact, it took more than a several minutes to complete either.

Then the truth hit me like a flashing neon sign!

YOU'RE OLD!

Maybe I can't be run like a DVD player… maybe I’m like a VCR or an old hand cranked movie projector, a flip book! Just how old do you have to be to throw your back out doing housework?

I did everything I could think of to relieve the pain, aspirin, stretching and the hottest shower I could stand, Kevin prayed, Gavin prayed, I prayed...but the spasms just kept coming, each one inviting three more.

Upon reflection, I decided that out of all the self prescribed treatments, the hot shower really helped the most. So I took another and bundled up in my big fuzzy robe spending the next ten minutes fighting with the footrest on the couch trying to sit back and just lay still for a bit.

At last, I settled back into a semi reclined position and for the first time in hours felt relief. It was pure Heaven, Paradise if you prefer, Bliss, Nirvana, Utopia or whichever best describes perfection to you. I felt completely and totally relaxed and at peace……...That is until the phone rang.

At first I panicked but quickly decided that the best course of action would be to let the answering machine pick it up, then I thought, “Oh my gosh, what if it’s the school, or my dear friend who is experiencing a very difficult time and whom I had instructed to call me anytime day or night?” “ Or what if it were just my husband calling to hear my voice
( he does that you know?…Don’cha just love it?)”.

Our phone only rings four times before the machine picks up. The first ring was spent mulling over my options. The second and third were spent carefully maneuvering myself into the least painful set of movements required to get myself into a standing position. I almost leaped across the living room during the fourth ring. Finally, I stood before the phone as the last ring trailed off… then it stopped. No more ringing, no answering machine, just me and my aching back standing painfully before a silent phone.

Now I’m not a woman prone to cursing. It was out of character….I apologize.

More than ten minutes later, I was back in position. I took several deep breaths and once again, began relaxing as the pain subsided.

”RING!” “ARE YOU STINKIN’ KIDDING ME?” This time I jumped to my feet in spite of the pain, sure that this was an urgent phone call and began lurching once again toward the phone. Why the heck didn't I bring the phone with me? It's cordless. Strangely, I wasn’t making any progress whatsoever ……I looked down at the couch where I had just kicked down the foot rest and couldn’t believe my luck. There, trapped inside the now depressed recliner footrest was a corner of my robe. HOW DOES THIS HAPPEN? The angle and strength required to free myself was entirely too painful. The phone had just finished ring number two. So I did what any desperate woman would do in my situation (ring three)….. I ditched the robe! Ring number FOUR! I dashed across the room BUCK NAKED grabbing the phone just before the fourth ring ended. Trying desperately to ignore back spasm 53 now building, I paused for a moment and then spoke.

“HELLO?” I uttered trying to hide my discomfort.

“Hello! Is this the Knight residence?”

I don’t really remember what happened next. The rest of that day is just a blur of unexpected spasms followed by ridiculously inappropriate outbursts so I’ll just leave you with this…

“Don’t let ageing get you down. It’s too hard to get back up.”