Sunday, April 3, 2016

Screaming and neckthritis

Busy weekend with lots of screaming here at our house. Started with screaming on the way to church, followed by having to wait in the car while two kids changed out of pajamas in the *parking lot* because they had *refused* to do it at home. Something about walking into a group of your peers with teddy bear pants on is much more motivating than just making your parents' neck veins stick out. Then there was some low-level antics during church that was more amusing than irritating. Then we finished up the morning with a group meltdown on the way back to the car. Wes had to be bodily dragged the last fifty feet or so before getting forcibly loaded into the car with a warm, maternal "I have a lifetime Pres ription for physical therapy and I don't mind using it!!"

Ryan sent me out for the afternoon. I went to buy supplies for my garden, talked to a friend for a few minutes, and then worked at a coffeeshop for a couple of hours. When I got home dinner was almost ready and everyone was relatively happy.

Until someone knocked over someone else's Solo cup tower and three kids at once started screaming so ferociously that James's little friend from across the street ran to the front door and began throwing himself against it in a panicked attempt to flee our home.

Dinner was pleasant enough, briefly, until something set Wes off and he started up again. He got banished to the stairs be ause OMG enough already. Everyone fell asleep within minutes of hitting the pillow. Surprise!

But other than that we had a pretty good weekend! Yesterday we went to an open house at a community being built for homeless people that was so beautiful and peaceful that I could move right in. The kids had lots of fun touring all the sweet one room cottages different groups have designed and built for the residents. I only had to correct them from calling them "forts" a handful of times. They had cookies and lemonade and a sprawling, lush vegetable garden with lots of shady benches. I love that this place was designed and built with so much care and love for the people who need it. Truly inspiring.

Getting back to the car was kind of a catastrophe though.

Whyyyyy why why with the screaming?!

Fortunately we had a sitter and plans with friends already lined up because dang.

In other news, after assuming I was dying of motor-neuron disease for a couple of months I finally went to a doctor to ask about why the last two fingers on my right hand were numb and weak when it took me an hour to fill out two camp registration forms. The doctor did a blood test for like forty nine different things women in my age bracket come down with (lupus, thyroid issues, functional alcoholism) but those were all negative so I had to get an MRI of my neck.

Let me tell you that getting inside an MRI death tube is right up there at the top of my list of things that seem like less fun than actually dying. It was EVERYTHING I ANTICIPATED and MORE.

I was so tense during the while twenty minutes that when they rolled me out of the ti e and *unclamped my head*, I could not lift my arms properly. I was in such a fog I couldn't even go get the nice breakfast I had bribed myself with and instead spent thirty minutes wandering around a thrift store not touching anything because my arms were too tired to move. Then I went and got my breakfast because obviously.

Finally I got the MRI results which revealed, wait for it, NECK ARTHRITIS.

So THAT happened.

I got a prescription for some old lady NSAID that advised me to avoid alcohol and stay out if the sun and a prescription for physical therapy.

PT has been illuminating.

Apparently I have the posture of an elderly witch from a Disney movie due to, I'm assuming, a life spent either pregnant and nursing or hunvhed over a computer writing MATLAB code. This is not normal.

 Neither is the way my shoulder blades have begun sliding up and over my shoulders ore the way my neck muscles have all the strength of a newborn kitten.

Fortunately I have very little pride left and really need to be able to write with a pen, because so far it has been very helpful. I had to look a few pages back in my work notes today and was surprised to see my crazed stroke-victim handwriting from just a few weeks ago.

She has started to work on my wonky tight shoulders too (while feeling my upper left shoulder muscles she mused aloud "What is THAT?!"), which means a pauedo massage twice a week. A massage that on Friday ended with me getting nice and relaxed before she abruptly karate chopped my shoulder completely out of the blue.

So I guess having neck arthritis isn't so bad because you get to go to PT and learn how to do resistance exercises with your neck and whatnot. And now that Ryan is in PT for his back too we have a nice way to spend time together in the evenings. Down on the floor. Strengthening our rhomboids together. #notassexyasitsounds



3 comments:

Chiconky said...

#notassexyasitsounds is my new favorite hashtag. It's going to become a "thing"

Sorry for the neck arthritis :(

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