Written Wednesday September 24, 2008
I have been chatting away, tellin' y'all about how divine things are out here in Terlingua. I have also been leaving somethin' out. It's not so divine.
When we left home, I was havin' a few back twinges. I think helpin' Tip onto the bed, into the car, and generally increasing his elevation stressed a muscle or two. But I had decided it wasn't gonna delay this long needed “Desert Therapy.” I packed my “PainBustR II” and was good to go. Until Fort Davis.
Sunday, while taking pics of the CSA memorial on the Courthouse lawn in Fort Davis, I wrenched my back. Did a bang up job on it, too. I was backing up, to get a better shot. Instead of watching where my feet were, I was lookin' at the view finder on the camera to see if I had my shot, yet. When my right foot found nuthin' but air to land on...THAT'S when I noticed the curb to the sidewalk had ended and there was almost a foot drop-off to the street.
I did one of those herky-jerky motions like a marionette and grabbed for a sign pole. Pulled my self back to an upright and stable position by one arm. Thank Gawdess, the camera was on its strap around my neck or I'd have dropped it.
Of course, the body is VERY into instant Karma. It sayest unto me, “Oh NO you DINNIT!” There was searing pain from my low back in the center of my spine moving our to the right over my pelvis. Kinda like a red hot poker had skewered those muscles and then twisted 3 or 4 times.
I hung onto the pole, trying to “breathe through the pain” for the next few minutes. [Whenever I hurt myself, I bless those breathing techniques I learned in Childbirth Classes] Even breathing was painful. I finally just leaned my head against the pole and cried.
The Dearly Beloved and the Kobe Beef Tip were sittin' in the shade up by the Courthouse steps. DB had been lookin' at somethin' else, so he didn't see me stumble/recover/cling to the pole and cry. Or hear me cry out. Tip hear the cry and tilted his head. When I got Dearly Beloved's attention, I made a feeble gesture towards the Ford and started to try walking again.
Baby steps were all I could manage at that point. When we both reached the SUV, he had NO clue what was wrong. He just could tell I was in horrible pain.
Once we got to Terlingua, I asked around, found a massage therapist [Christina we WILL talk about this when I get back]. I've seen her twice. She gave me some gel that works better than the PainBustR and loaned me one of her cold packs. She also worked both spots on my back, and my neck, that I didn't even realize was so tight, for over an hour each time. Her fee? $50. Can you believe that?! 'sTruth. I was expecting twice that, but then I'm used to city prices, too.
Anyhoo, I've been very careful with my movements. I've been reminding myself to B-R-E-A-T-H-E. And using the gel and cold pack liberally. I've sat with care and support. Made sure I didn't sit too long without moving some to try and keep from stiffening up.
Our original plan was to be back in time to attend EMStock on Saturday so we could hear Ambulance Driver peddle some of his patented paramedic patter. Buddy, I don't think we're gonna make it. I plan to see Mindy, the massage therapist again on Friday, then we'll take a slow drive home. Just don't see how I can make EMStock after the combined 10 hours in the car for the trip home. I'm truly sorry. It's that DAHM curb's fault! Next year, I promise!