I was lying on the couch watching The Office on Hulu Plus. On my right side. It was about 9:30, 9:45. Bruce had just announced that he was going to bed (this was way past his bedtime). I was kind of tired, so I thought I'd get in bed, too, and read until I fell asleep.
So I turned off the tv and sat up. And...that was it. I could not get up. My back went into full spasm and if I moved in any direction it was blindingly painful. I called Bruce and he came running out -- but there was nothing he could do. Sitting was pretty bad because if I moved more than about an inch either way it was horrible. Bruce kept wanting to do something and he was making me laugh which was about the worst thing that could happen to me. He stood RIGHT in front of me, climbed behind me, offered to pull me up (I offered to kill him if he tried that move). He kept telling me that he's strong enough to lift me; I kept telling him that I would scream so loudly that the neighbors would call the police if he tugged on me even a little.
I figured that moving into any other position would be a good thing (I have no idea why I thought this -- it was just so painful the way it was that anything sounded better). I sort of collapsed onto the floor on my hands and knees. This was, oddly enough, an improvement. Except, well, I have bad knees. I thought maybe I could crawl to the bedroom and I tried a few scoots -- not gonna happen. Hurt my knees (duh), hurt my back. I leaned forward and down and put the bulk of my weight on my forearms -- this felt better on my back and my knees -- but it's not what you'd call a comfortable position (face buried in the scratchy rug, forearms getting tired). So I crept forward and laid flat on my stomach. Not bad -- but I was flat on my stomach on the hard floor.
And I had to pee.
I rolled over -- carefully -- and I was now flat on my back. This was very painful because my back didn't want to be flat on the hard floor. Bruce pushed my desk chair over and I put my feet on top of it; this was slightly better. My back was still hard as a rock -- just as tense as it could be. Heat or ice? I never know. There was a bag of ice in the fridge from earlier in the week, so Bruce got it and -- carefully -- slid it under my back. Not especially comfortable, but at least I felt like I was doing something that might help.
Bruce was jumping around like an elf, trying to help. In his defense, I HAD called for him to come to help me. I just didn't want him to touch me. At all. He did move the coffee table and after my back was so cold that I couldn't feel all that much I was able to move to a STRAIGHT UP sitting position. I kept trying to move into different positions, but I had no plan whatsoever. I think I was hoping that somehow, maybe, I would find a magical pose and I'd just spring up to my feet. That was not to be.
I kept looking at Bruce and bursting out laughing because it was such a ridiculous situation. And laughing hurt. And made it hard not to pee. Which was funny, too.
Since I was sitting up, Bruce gave me a pain pill. Ultimately I don't think I felt it at all, and it made me feel hungover this morning. Live and learn.
His recliner was within arm's reach. Somehow -- I don't know how -- I moved to a sort of praying position in front of his recliner -- on my knees, arms on the seat.
"Watch. I am going to do something very brave," I said to Bruce. And I did! I imagine that I resembled a newborn colt, struggling to its feet for the first time. Without the cuteness, of course. Somehow I stood up, which I will always believe to have been a miracle.
Bruce was especially thankful because I let him put his arm around me to help me walk -- I was a bit unsteady on my feet. Made it to the bathroom, peed (don't ask), and slowly made my way to the bed. Sat down...getting my legs into the bed was a tricky move, but I made it. Never have I felt happier than when I was finally IN BED!!!
I Googled "back spasm heat ice" and learned that heat is more generally prescribed, so Bruce got the heating pad and -- gingerly -- shoved it underneath me. I laid there for probably thirty minutes; I would almost fall asleep when THE NEIGHBOR'S DOG would start barking and wake me right up (it was almost 11:00 by this time).
Bruce was sleeping (I could tell by the snores) and I decided that I didn't want to be in bed any longer. The heat had really done the trick. I was able to get out of bed and move into the living room with all my paraphernalia (phone, Kindle, heating pad, laptop) and rest there until about 2:00 when I moved back into the bedroom. And slept for the rest of the night.
Today I'm okay. Moving very gingerly, letting Bruce wait on me. My back is very tense; I'm using the heating pad as I type. Needless to say, my vacation is receding into the background. I don't even care a little bit. My knees are HUGE -- swollen from kneeling and crawling, even that little bit. Oddly enough, my mood is great. I feel like I'm kind of a comedy of errors right now -- my left elbow is really swollen from arthritis, my knees are a wreck, my back is shot -- I'm running out of parts!!! I know that all of this will pass, which is why I'm laughing about it.