Last Wednesday hubs and I went out on his motorbike (mine is still off the road) and we hit a pothole. And I felt something go in my back.
I’ve had sciatica before, so I know how it feels and how best to treat it. This time, though? Oh my gosh, it’s bad. I actually think I may have slipped a disc. The symptoms on the NHS site match up pretty well. But it also says that a doctor isn’t likely to send you for treatment until it’s been 4 weeks.
One has been hell. There’s no position comfortable. Sitting hurts. Standing up really hurts. I don’t so much walk as shuffle like a zombie.
Alternating ibuprofen and paracetamol is kind of working, though “gentle exercise” is limited to when I have to go upstairs for the toilet. For the most part, I’m stranded on the sofa. I’ve taken to crocheting socks for a friend. Playing on Facebook and the Xbox. Swearing like a sailor when I have to move.
I’m also writing. ZERO HOUR is sort of ticking along, but I was attacked by a fantasy plot bunny and so that’s happening, albeit slowly. Having stepped back from publishing, I’m finding my pace to be doddering, which is nice in that I’m not stressing about writing, but also a little frustrating because I’m itching to be done.
I’m the same with crochet, to be honest – love starting and finished, slightly hate the bit in between.
I’m stranded on the sofa in between.
Ah well, the only way through is through. One small [shuffling] step at a time, and try and enjoy the journey or something.