Okay. So I have been having major back pain (diagnosed as "degenerative disc disease" - sounds fun huh?). My doctor recommended that I go see a physical therapist so that he could show me some exercises to do at home to help my back, and of course to take Advil for the pain (BTW, my doctor said that 12 Advil per day --- is a bit much, in case you were wondering).
So I go over to the PT's office. Chit chat with the therapist and of course he tells me that I need to come in and see him at least twice a week - I need more than "at home exercises." Isn't this shocking? All we did the first visit was chat about my pain, he watched me walk, he made sure my legs were even in length (they were thank you very much), yadda, yadda, yadda. Then the PT told me that if my back started hurting while doing an activity, stop. Wait 15 minutes, if the pain subsides, continue the activity. If the pain is still there - just stop. Humm - yes, I imagine you can guess this bit of handy advice came from a man, whose activity more than likely consists of changing positions on the couch and reaching for the remote. No, I am not jaded.
I've been back in twice and both times were somewhat useless. Stretch out on the table (yep, legs still even in length - whew, I didn't shrink!), 10 mins on the bike, stretches and then the best part ... a huge ice pack on my back while I'm hooked up to this machine with electrodes. The best feeling ever! If I could just take that machine with me .... ooh ahh.
With all this being said. Friday, felt ok. Nice lunch with my hubby, talked him into taking the rest of thd day off and doing errands with me. I think he realized just how hard I work at shopping and errands. It's about time I get credit for all of my hard work.
Saturday, woke up in extreme pain! I still managed to prep and paint most of Addison's bathroom, work on her new "play/apartment" area and cook dinner (this with the help of 3 vicodin of course). Sunday, more pain - yet I worked at church, ran errands and finished painting the bathroom (again with the help of a couple of vicodin). Monday rolls around - yes, still in pain the entire day. Go to PT. Of course, this time I'm put on the bike directly in front of the mirror (thank you Mr. Man Therapist). So, I sit there and pedal and look at myself in the mirror for ten minutes. Doesn't this sound like every woman's dream come true?
As I'm sitting there pedaling, I noticed these large masses on each side of my body -- I realize, humm, these are my hips. When did they expand to that size? Again, I think that I must have fun house / skinny mirrors at my house. I swear that when I got dressed that morning, I looked pretty good. What the hell happened during the day? It was like Paula Deen herself came and slathered about 14 pounds of butter on each hip. Damn you Paula!!! So, finally my mirror torture time comes to an end and I get my reward of ice and electrodes.
By the time I left there and picked up Addison, I felt like I was about to vomit ... not sure if it was from the pain or the image I still had in my mind from the mirror. I had promised Addison a "mommy / daughter" dinner out. I had to go through with it, so off we go to Chili's. You would think, that since I am having some body image issues that I would order water and a salad with no dressing. Well, that so didn't happen. They have their $20 special back -- appetizer, 2 entrees and a dessert. Well, yes, I did partake in the cheese fries. Yes, I did order a burger and yet more fries (to my credit, I only ate half the burger). Yes, I did have my share of the molten chocolate cake with ice cream. I had popped a vicodin when I got to the restaurants, so by the time we reached the house -- no pain at all. 3 1/2 hours later, bathroom was glazed and sponged and a load of laundry was done ... without another thought of the hips.
Thank God I go back to the doctor tomorrow as I can not live on vicodin alone! Well, I could, but that probably wouldn't be the best of plans.