twenty four hours with the granddaddy of all neck cricks

 10:00

Dream about adopting a long narrow headed and long straight furred body doggy and naming him Pollock.  What breed is this dog? Anyone?

11:00

Wake up pretzeled around the purring form of Picasso.  Notice a neck crick.  I get those sometimes.  No big deal, I’ll just rotate my neck and move around my shoulders.

11:01

Notice that the routine strategy is a Very Bad Idea as pain comes in bright waves if I move my neck at all.

11:09

Hold my neck with my hands just so I can go to the bathroom.

11:15

Whining copiously, I move to the sofa and gingerly arrange myself onto pillows.

12:00

Put ice onto the neck, because I still can’t move it an iota without pain.

12:40

Eat lunch, in a fashion that is surely comical if anyone was watching me.  Ingest hydrocodone and a muscle relaxant.

12:46

Take a picture of my hunched over form, documenting how my neck is twisted to the right and is bent over.

1:13

Accidentally learn by moving my head without thinking, that despite beginning to get high on pain medication, I experience lamaze-level pain if I even move.  Scream a few times as I move about, scaring the catchen.

1:27

Think about how comical it would be to go to the emergency room for my neck.  Marvel at my talent.

2:31

Note that my neck still hurts.  Consult Tiphanie about the notion of going to the er.

3:43

Dazedly sit at the bus stop, fresh from washing up and getting dressedand walking, replete with lots of screaming.  Hope feverently that the er will be able to do anything to help.

3:51

Board the bus.

4:04

Plot how to murder the bus.  Fail miserably at progressing past my first plan, which is pointing at the bus and saying, “die, bus, die!”  Feel every bump and lurch the bus drives over in my neck.  Become fairly nauseous.  Ponder that whole dramaqueeny thing again.

4:08

Take another picture of my hunched over form.

4:17

Wonder about the etymology of “he’s a pain in the neck”.

4:27

Checked in, I wait for the triage nurse. I feel sufficiently miserable, thank you.

4:50

Learn that lipreading is a very exciting artform when my head is bent forward.

5:05

Got morphine and a muscle relaxant and a anti-puke shot. Oooo.

5:13

Watch as it snows, whilst waiting for the bus.  Test out the neck to see if the shots work yet. Short answer: no.

5:33

More range of movement returning. I love shots. At least this was a good short-term help.

6:09

Sit on the sofa, ready for the Kiefer’s appearance in 51 minutes. Wrench my neck a fair bit. Ow! The pain!  But at least I’m becoming more comfortable, thank you, as I sit and hurt a bit less.

The following takes place between 7 pm and 9 pm on the day of the Crickfest:

Kiefer William Frederick Dempsey George Rufus Sutherland.

10:50

Lying in bed mostly asleep from the meds, I declare self much better, if not yet fine.  This will count as a very good thing.  Bleah!

6:04

Wake up and take more pain meds, eating some crackers to keep my stomach happy.

7:38

Write emails that are nonsensical.  Including this prime example:  But when it huers I just follow what other pin

What was THAT about?

10:22

Wake up again. Notice I still have crackers in my mouth.  Feel amazed I fell asleep that quickly.