Last Sunday I woke up in my completely typical condition at the usual 6AM, used the bathroom and decided to get back into bed for some "I don't have to be anywhere today" snuggling time with sweet pea. I hit the pillow funny and immediately scream/cried.
So, now I know what it feels like to have a pinched nerve in my neck.
When the anti-inflammatory and muscle relaxer I got from the urgent care clinic weren't doing much I got wind of a good chiropractor not too far away. This newest chiro does eastern healing too. Except she doesn't work on Mondays. So Tuesday I managed to get myself over there. First she had me face down covered in acupuncture needles, TENS pads and heating pads. Then 25 minutes later she cupped me. Holy mother of hickies. I look like I was attacked by a large shop vac. Then there was a massage, stretching and finally a chiropractic adjustment. Voila! I could kind of turn my head to the right! Kind of. My skin hurt though and I felt as if I had been massaged by the biggest most brutal deep tissue massager of all times. My skin was so tender that the sensation of my feather weight down coat on my neck and back was too much. Luckily it was warm enough that I could carefully and without turning or nodding my head make my way to and from the car without it. I may have frightened Josh my making him yell CLEAR each time it was safe to pull out of the driveway.
I felt such relief after meeting wonder chiro for the first time that I stopped into a grocery store on my way home. I got on line to pay just as the cashier asked the man for $9 something to pay for his 8 bags of groceries. I thought to myself "He must be a super couponer. I gotta get in on that" but it turned out that the was on public assistance and upset that something wasn't covered by his food stamps. So he asked the cashier what wasn't covered. She knew that some chicken nuggets weren't covered, to which he replied "THEY DON'T COST $9!" The cashier (a very pretty young black lady) started to look over the man's 2 foot long grocery receipt when he snarled HOW DO I KNOW YOURE NOT TRYING TO RIP ME OFF?!?!
At that moment a giant flashing RACIST (cashier was black) sign went off and I began fuming. I stepped toward the young (she was SO FREAKING young) cashier, gave her a wink and sarcastically asked how in the world she could call herself a cashier when she had not memorized the contents of this man's 8 bag purchase. The man got angry at me and told me I could bite him, which was the most repulsive thing ever since he was not a sanitary looking dude, to which I replied I CANT BITE YOU, I HAVEN'T HAD A RABIES VACCINATION The crusty old moocher revved up the store's handicap scooter shopping cart and burned rubber out to the parking lot. Then I told the cashier that I was watching the dude incase he decided to make a complaint so I could stand behind him and set things straight. In the end I was proud of myself for coming to her aid and also for coming up with that snappy comeback right on the spot instead of ten minutes too late. Lil sis said next time I someone tells me to bite them I should say I DON'T EAT PORK. Also, NyQuil isn't paid for by food stamps.
The next night I realized I was suddenly feeling much better and also discovered that the reason I had barely slept a wink since injuring myself was not the pain, or not only the pain, but the naproxen induced insomnia. I can not take a medicine without enjoying it's rare side effects. I am so excited to go to sleep tonight because I have high hopes that all of the naproxen is out of my system and I can sleep for the first time in 5 nights.
I had an interesting discussion with a friend today about the perfect bedroom heat setting. We both agreed that 68 is too hot and 66 too cold and that 67 can go frustratingly either way. Also, I think I might have to get a second from the front tooth removed. I think it's dying. At least that is my own non-dental school opinion. It's turning brown and it has become so sensitive to cold that I have to be careful not to breathe through my mouth when it's cold out. I'm sure not feeling young lately!
Here is something I never told you. My first real "job" aside from baby sitting for kids in my apartment building from the time I was 10 was at Georgia Tech, where I spent my freshman year. They had an arts center in the student center, which absolutely none of the engineering students used at all, and I got to learn all about pottery, silk screening, weaving, etc... Great job, I played all day long.
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