Awhile back, I wrote about learning to roll with the unexpected punches life hurls at you. I called those occasions plot twists. Yesterday I got one hell of a plot twist, and at first I had trouble following my own advice.
Mood music:
The back injury I wrote about yesterday is much worse than I thought. I went to the chiropractor, figuring he’d fix me and I’d be on my way, even though I’d reached the point where I couldn’t do anything without waves of agony coursing through me. After trying to get me to lift my feet and get off the table unassisted, the chiropractor — who loathes the idea of people taking pain killers for their back — ordered me to do just that.
I went to my primary care doctor, who confirmed the extent of my injury and put me on Vicodin, Flexeril and my old enemy, Prednisone. (Expect a follow-up post on how I deal with being back on that drug, which I like to refer to as Satan’s Tic Tacs.)
Now I have to spend the next several days on the couch, except for daily visits to the chiropractor. My family has to pick up all the tasks I usually do, which I find upsetting. I had to postpone some video shoots at work that I’ve been throwing my soul into preparing. The week isn’t going to go as planned.
So how do I deal with this plot twist?
My wife and boss made the first party easy for me. They both ordered me to scrub work for the week, and assured me that postponing my project wasn’t the end of the world.
The drugs are already helping in that I can be a bit more comfortable, even if I hate taking them.
And I’m getting a lot of kind words from friends and family, which always lifts the spirits.
So I’m going away for a few days. But I’ll be back, in full force.
Be good to yourselves and each other while I’m on the sidelines.
