Ow.

Meant to post in the last couple days. Didn't. Threw my back out, instead.

It comes with the territory, when you're approaching 40...or so I'm told, anyway. I've had twinges in my back every now and again. This wasn't a twinge. This was a lock.

I was putting laundry in the dryer...something I've done, oh, about a thousand times. Only this time my back announced that I was not putting anything in the dryer any more, instead it was time to moan and wail piteously. Very low in my back, almost at my left hip, something wrenched and presto! Ken joined Eva on the shelf for a couple of days.

Oh, we made a pair on Monday and Tuesday, let me tell you. I couldn't do the square root of frig-all and Eva's not supposed to do much of anything, either. I'd try to help her, say, put her slippers on, and I'd wind up clenching my back and gasping like a beached fish; she'd help me get my socks on--I don't mind admitting that with my almost total lack of flexibility, this is a bit of a struggle even when I'm feeling 100%--and she'd be ready for a nap, afterwards.

Tried going to work this morning, fortified with muscle relaxers. If I had a desk job I probably could have got through the day. As it was, I tried to lift a slat of eggs and my back said oh, really? Is that how we're going to play this game? Not healed yet, apparently. So now I'm home and about to go to bed. We'll try this again tomorrow.

I don't want this to happen again, though I suspect it will, sometime. Eva is subject to back spasms worse than mine was...once or twice a year she's bedridden for a day or so, completely unable to walk. At my worst, I could walk (slowly), I could sit (painfully) and I could lay down (sort of)...but getting from any of those states to any other was...bad.

I sure didn't want to come back from holidays like this...