July 11, 2018 – Second reason for not blogging.

I’m “out of action” . . . how it happened.

         . . . one day few weeks ago, [June 19^th to be exact] . . . I was feeling good about my “health walk” and thought I’d do one more half lap, but this time I would take longer strides . . . and OOPS!

“Darn that hurts!” I said aloud as I clutch behind my left thigh.  I pause and think – what did I do?  I didn’t trip over a shadow or step on a stone – what is this pain from?

I rest standing on one leg within reach of my neighbor’s mailbox – just in case I lose my balance.  I tentatively test the other leg. 

“OOOOUCH,”  Not a mental thought, but my actual outcry.

I limp back to the house and put my legs up on my love seat and hydrate.

An hour later, my husband comes in to roust me out to help him pick up the wet grass clippings on the upper hill.  I need to help pick them up and put them in the little green trailer that he pulls behind the Snapper sit down mower.

Not realizing what I have done, I just think I’ve overdone it, I hobble out wincing and get my trusty rake, pull on garden gloves and proceed to walk with a serious and painful limp up the hill side and sweep the long stream of wet grass clippings into neat piles about 15 feet apart.  My husband on the riding mower, pulls the trailer alongside each pile and I bend over, sweep the clippings with one hand against the wire rake end, lift, and toss them into the trailer.  The last bit of each pile I use my gloved hands to sweep up the clumps of grass.  I’ve always been able to touch my toes and even press my hands flat on the floor in front of me so for this muscle pull behind my left knee/thigh doesn’t make any sense to me.  I am overweight and have been for years, but I have always been able to do that even at my highest weight.

Next to the last pile on a slanted hill with my feet not feeling that secure in the wet grass I feel a sort of POP.  That was it.  I did finish the last pile in severe pain and then quickly found a chair in the shade and sat.

After a while I hobbled to the house, got cleaned up and then stretched out on the bed with rotating ice packs and some back and body aspirin.  Mentally, I told myself I strained something and I would be better in the morning.  I researched thigh and back of knee pain and came to a conclusion – I could possibly have pulled a hamstring.  Looking at all the diagrams on the internet and reading additional information I came to that conclusion.  What I had done was something foreign to me and that was my conclusion.

Surprisingly I didn’t feel better in the morning. I said to myself to “walk it out” so I did a bit of housekeeping.  Did laundry, a touch of vacuuming, picked up newspapers and put mail away limping, and, mincing, and resting. That afternoon I drove my husband to the Cardiologist about 1 ½ hours away.  I took his walker just in case I was a bit stiff and needed balance.

When I got home I managed to hobble to the cement sidewalk, but after that it was less painful to just crawl on my hands and knees up the brick steps into the house.  And me, I wasn’t the least bit worried my neighbors might see me on all fours – HAH –who Cares! I stretched out with ice again and started making a few phone calls to ask friends if they have ever experienced this.

By mid evening, it was clear to me that I needed medical attention and going to the emergency room was the last thing I wanted to do. The pain was above my threshold. I actually found someone who knew we had a new clinic in the county with evening hours.

Another phone call to confirm the clinic would take me. I confirmed that they had a wheel chair because I wasn’t going to stand on this leg again. This time in front of God and the neighbor’s I crawled out the front door down the brick steps across the sidewalk to the front lawn where my husband picked me up with the car and off we went.

You are all thinking - whimper, whimper you poor, poor dear and shaking your head because I am a wuss.  But the fact is, I’ve never been hospitalized in my life time – take that back – I had wisdom teeth taken out when I was 23 – but that doesn’t count.  A sprained ankle when I was about 45 and assorted broken toes as a teenager and just a few years back – but to not be able to walk or only use one leg?  No, never! 

I have things to do. I am a busy woman. I have gardens to take care of.  I have errands to run, and grocery shopping, and laundry, and vacuuming, and cooking, and, and . . . you know  . . .  a life to LIVE.

The clinic looked me over and came to the same conclusion and gave me a muscle relaxant shot in the hip and telephoned a prescription to my pharmacy for the next morning and instructions which included “bed rest for several days,  stay off it. . . depending. . . maybe even weeks . . . this will take a long time to heal”.

My husband rolls me out to the car by wheelchair and I twirl myself around on my good leg and plunk myself into the passenger seat.  I repeat the crawling on my hands and knees into the house via the front steps and drag myself into bed with soft pillows and more ice packs.

It is late and the muscle relaxant has taken the sharp pain away, but my leg is still uncomfortable.  In the dark, I think about the immediate future – morning – just getting to and from the bathroom comes to mind.  I don’t really have a plan of action yet. I’ll leave it to my subconscious and eventually fall asleep.

What was that famous line Charlotte said at the end of Gone with the Wind?

Tomorrow’s is another day, or was it I’ll think about it tomorrow – was that it?