This morning my alarm went off and I discovered I could not sit up. What? Rolled on my side-- or tried to, anyway: my back lit up like an old-fashioned jukebox. BingbingbingBING! Rolled onto my back and attempted to just sit right up: waves of pain and little mental fireworks. Now there's no comfortable position and I am thoroughly annoyed. I reached back, grabbed the headboard, dug in my heels and levered myself up by main force, groaning, and was able to turn, drop feet over the edge and stand up. Hurts less standing. From the hallway I hear:
"Are you all right in there?"
"[incoherent mutterings] --freakin' back. Ow."
"Do you need the ibuprofen?"
My tummy voted no thanks and I admitted as much.
"Well, I'm making coffee!"
After some minor chores (T: "Hey, don't do that." R: "[mulish mumblings]"), half a cup, three OC pain pills and a bowl of oatmeal later, the back pain's down to a dull roar. I don't know what brought it on, possibly 40 crunches of a new and trying type two mornings ago, but I'm not enjoyin' it. Tonight: heat pad. Liniment. Grrrr. This is not how it's supposed to be.