Ouch.
Ouch! I woke up at three this morning because my right leg was bothering me. Got up and it was painful to put pressure on and to move about. It is stabbing pain, horrible evil stuff that it is.
I felt a little better after I had sat in my recliner for a while and decided I'd try to clean up the living room a little bit. I had already done the dishes after I got up.Well, I got the blankets folded and the two pillows picked up and put back on the couch and then I had to sit down because the pain in my leg was too intense.
After sitting for a few minutes I decided to clean out my backpack. I use it more than my purse because I can fit all my medicine, chap-stick, writing utensils and paperwork in there. Plus the random word search and Sudoku book. I don't have a trash can near my chair anymore so I just put all the junk on the ground until I was done. I got up to get the trash can to throw away the trash and POP!
Searing pain down the leg. I don't want to move. I don't want to breathe. Of course, poor Chris starts to rush over to me (as much as he can) and I tell him to not do anything. Don't touch me. Don't even move the air around me. I ask him to get the walker because I bound and determined to do something productive today. Try moving my leg forward..nope, not happening. Finally I gingerly sit back down, amongst gasps of pain, and take a pain killer.
So much for doing anything today. I'm hoping Ashley and Chris will help me make wontons. I have a nice lap tray my Mom got me for Christmas that I plan to use for wrapping them.
I'm afraid my mood is pretty bad. I'm angry at my limitations. I'm not the sitting type of person. I'm a do-er. I like to be moving, hiking, swimming, walking, snowboarding. Not just sitting. Sit sit sitting. I try to do as much as I can each day but some days are like this one and I can't even shift in my recliner because the pain is so excruciating.
Damn it. I just want to be normal again. I don't even remember what it was like to not have pain every day. Where pain was a rare thing. I miss climbing trees and going hunting with my Dad.
Great. Now I feel like crying. Stupid feeling.
I felt a little better after I had sat in my recliner for a while and decided I'd try to clean up the living room a little bit. I had already done the dishes after I got up.Well, I got the blankets folded and the two pillows picked up and put back on the couch and then I had to sit down because the pain in my leg was too intense.
After sitting for a few minutes I decided to clean out my backpack. I use it more than my purse because I can fit all my medicine, chap-stick, writing utensils and paperwork in there. Plus the random word search and Sudoku book. I don't have a trash can near my chair anymore so I just put all the junk on the ground until I was done. I got up to get the trash can to throw away the trash and POP!
Searing pain down the leg. I don't want to move. I don't want to breathe. Of course, poor Chris starts to rush over to me (as much as he can) and I tell him to not do anything. Don't touch me. Don't even move the air around me. I ask him to get the walker because I bound and determined to do something productive today. Try moving my leg forward..nope, not happening. Finally I gingerly sit back down, amongst gasps of pain, and take a pain killer.
So much for doing anything today. I'm hoping Ashley and Chris will help me make wontons. I have a nice lap tray my Mom got me for Christmas that I plan to use for wrapping them.
I'm afraid my mood is pretty bad. I'm angry at my limitations. I'm not the sitting type of person. I'm a do-er. I like to be moving, hiking, swimming, walking, snowboarding. Not just sitting. Sit sit sitting. I try to do as much as I can each day but some days are like this one and I can't even shift in my recliner because the pain is so excruciating.
Damn it. I just want to be normal again. I don't even remember what it was like to not have pain every day. Where pain was a rare thing. I miss climbing trees and going hunting with my Dad.
Great. Now I feel like crying. Stupid feeling.
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