Well...I had planned on posting my part 3 of Myths and Facts about Difficult Seasons, but life just hasn't worked out for that yet.
This past week was great because both of my kids were out of school and pre-school so I spent Monday through Thursday at my parents house with them. It was the first time in over 6 months that the boys and I had been together for more than two nights. My nurturing Mom took care of me and some Mama loving and comfort food made me feel so uplifted. I spent my time in bed at their house, but it was still good to have a change of scenery and be with the family. I was even able to eat dinner at the table with everyone one night.
I had to go to the pharmacy to pick up a prescription on Wednesday. Since I don't drive anymore, Mom drove me. While I was getting dressed, I looked in the mirror and realized how long my hair had gotten. Now that I think about it...I can't even remember how long it's been since my last hair cut. I've been in bed for 6 months, so it had to be longer than that. I vaguely remember getting a haircut sometime around May. It was a ghastly sight! I had a major hair emergency! That stuff was out of control and needed to go to the salon ER immediately!
We went to one of those quick in and out places, thinking that would be easier. Sat for 30 minutes. I was hurting by the time I left but I was so happy to leave with a fresh haircut. It was the first time I had worn make-up in forever, so I actually felt like a real person when I left. At least I looked like one. I bet you can guess how this story is going to end.
The pain started that night and grew like Jack's giant beanstalk that didn't stop. That tiny bean, getting a hair-cut, turned into a giant flare up. Wednesday night was bad, but not too bad. Around a 7 on the pain scale. Thursday, Thanksgiving Day, was a completely different story. My pain woke me up at 5-something am. I was writhing, squeezing, and rubbing my legs to try to lessen it. I took a Norco and a muscle relaxer, went back to sleep, and woke up later in even worse pain. My butt, hips and legs were very angry at me. I went to the kitchen to make myself breakfast and coffee and my legs and arms were shaking. I was having muscle spasms and twitches. I was weak. I could barely walk. That day kept snowballing and by that evening, I was an 8-9 on the pain scale. When the Thanksgiving meal was ready, I went into the kitchen with my family and prayed with them. The pain was so bad that it was all I could do to stand up. I had to tell them I wouldn't be able to join them at the table for our Thanksgiving Meal because I was in too much pain to sit. Everyone was very understanding. My legs and body shook while I weakly made myself a plate and returned to the bedroom, where I ate my Thanksgiving dinner alone.
The next day was better. Since we were at my parents' house and the kids had someone to keep an eye on them, my husband and I got to have some rare uninterrupted cuddle time and watch some movies together in the bed. It was great.
So, I thought at the time that haircut was a good idea. I think it was, but it was the wrong timing to try something like that. I wasn't prepared for how difficult that little trip would be for me. I forgot my butt pillow, which didn't help while sitting in the car and at the salon. But, the backlash of that haircut stole my Thanksgiving away from me. It was just as bad as my pain when we flew to Dallas to see Dr. Feigenbaum. Note to self: Don't go out before you have something important coming up. Now you know why this was titled "The Cut That Killed Me."
This past week was great because both of my kids were out of school and pre-school so I spent Monday through Thursday at my parents house with them. It was the first time in over 6 months that the boys and I had been together for more than two nights. My nurturing Mom took care of me and some Mama loving and comfort food made me feel so uplifted. I spent my time in bed at their house, but it was still good to have a change of scenery and be with the family. I was even able to eat dinner at the table with everyone one night.
I had to go to the pharmacy to pick up a prescription on Wednesday. Since I don't drive anymore, Mom drove me. While I was getting dressed, I looked in the mirror and realized how long my hair had gotten. Now that I think about it...I can't even remember how long it's been since my last hair cut. I've been in bed for 6 months, so it had to be longer than that. I vaguely remember getting a haircut sometime around May. It was a ghastly sight! I had a major hair emergency! That stuff was out of control and needed to go to the salon ER immediately!
We went to one of those quick in and out places, thinking that would be easier. Sat for 30 minutes. I was hurting by the time I left but I was so happy to leave with a fresh haircut. It was the first time I had worn make-up in forever, so I actually felt like a real person when I left. At least I looked like one. I bet you can guess how this story is going to end.
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| The Cut that Killed Me |
The pain started that night and grew like Jack's giant beanstalk that didn't stop. That tiny bean, getting a hair-cut, turned into a giant flare up. Wednesday night was bad, but not too bad. Around a 7 on the pain scale. Thursday, Thanksgiving Day, was a completely different story. My pain woke me up at 5-something am. I was writhing, squeezing, and rubbing my legs to try to lessen it. I took a Norco and a muscle relaxer, went back to sleep, and woke up later in even worse pain. My butt, hips and legs were very angry at me. I went to the kitchen to make myself breakfast and coffee and my legs and arms were shaking. I was having muscle spasms and twitches. I was weak. I could barely walk. That day kept snowballing and by that evening, I was an 8-9 on the pain scale. When the Thanksgiving meal was ready, I went into the kitchen with my family and prayed with them. The pain was so bad that it was all I could do to stand up. I had to tell them I wouldn't be able to join them at the table for our Thanksgiving Meal because I was in too much pain to sit. Everyone was very understanding. My legs and body shook while I weakly made myself a plate and returned to the bedroom, where I ate my Thanksgiving dinner alone.
The next day was better. Since we were at my parents' house and the kids had someone to keep an eye on them, my husband and I got to have some rare uninterrupted cuddle time and watch some movies together in the bed. It was great.
So, I thought at the time that haircut was a good idea. I think it was, but it was the wrong timing to try something like that. I wasn't prepared for how difficult that little trip would be for me. I forgot my butt pillow, which didn't help while sitting in the car and at the salon. But, the backlash of that haircut stole my Thanksgiving away from me. It was just as bad as my pain when we flew to Dallas to see Dr. Feigenbaum. Note to self: Don't go out before you have something important coming up. Now you know why this was titled "The Cut That Killed Me."
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