On Back Pain and Sanity:

I was going to put up the pictures of the crafting projects that I had been working on over the last month and had finished. They are starting to pile up. The shrug, a black lace winter scarf, the lace edged handkerchiefs, a set of Victorian pitcher and glass’ covers to keep the bugs out of my lemonade. I took the pictures yesterday. But do to a relapse in feeling immortal I hurt myself. I can’t get the memory card out of my camera and into the computer. Not that I can’t move my hands. I am typing this posting. I can’t move my back. I am flat on my back in bed with sciatica.

Thankfully I have cable extensions on my key board and mouse. (I don’t own a laptop.) So I can use the computer to a limited extent. The screen is too far away to play video games and I have to crank the type set way up to read what I’m typing.

So, we know that I’m on a new exercise program. It was going well. Really well in fact. It would have been a badge of honor had I hurt myself tying myself in knots with the yoga. But yesterday I went to my cancer support group meeting and I was sitting crooked in my seat in the car. (Mountain Man was driving.) Well of course I know better then to sit crooked in the car. I have done this to myself before.

One of the reasons I like yoga so much is that it helps to limit the reoccurrence of this dreaded condition. And yes, I know how foolish I was to sit the way I did. Why do we do these things to ourselves? I know that I have a responsibility to take care of myself. All the more so since the cancer. Needless to say I won’t be exercising for a while. I did loose a half a pound all ready.

Mountain Man has deposited the portable DVD player and some DVD’s on his side of the bed where I can reach them. I have a book and the TV remote. But I am one of those people that has a hard time when I don’t have something to do with my hands. And at this point my crafts hurt too much to work on them.

You’d think that this forced vacation and being waited on would be a nice thing. Well not to me. I am independent. Mountain Man is busy. And I can’t get to the bathroom on my own. Okay, once I’m up I can slowly shuffle along but getting down and up again requires help. (Was the toilet always so low?)

So for the next few days at least I will be eating standing up and going slowly going stir crazy.