Sometimes The Things We Do Come Back to Bite Us In The Proverbial Derriere.... In The Form Of Lower Back Pain

I'm sure that the minions of my loyal followers are anxiously awaiting news of my whereabouts since going MIA a week or so ago. The explanation certainly lacks of any excitement whatsoever. Again, my back has made me behave like the good girl I am not. I'm only allowed to sit in the chair at the computer two to three times per day, fifteen minutes each time, before I have to get up and do something else. Preferably, to lie down. Right. In a perfect world, maybe.



I have a life that doesn't allow sitting back on one's haunches, so to speak. I've never been idle or sedentary and I would surely go insane if told I couldn't live the way I want to. That is simply not happening. I would rather go ahead and die than succumb to a life of being bedridden or in a wheelchair. I'm dead serious about this one thing. It all ties in with my biggest phobia.... claustrophobia. Honestly, I would rather walk a tightrope across the Grand Canyon than lie motionless in a bed for the rest of my life.


I completely freak out if I am restrained in any way. At. All. So, I normally try to be careful so as to avoid permanent back damage. Like I said... normally. But, I'm pretty sure my regular readers know that I am anything but normal. I know. I don't even try anymore. What you see is what you're stuck with, baby! Get over that right here and now.



I've been trying to determine which *incident* (if any at all) is responsible for my excruciating back pain. I'm still having a bit of trouble in the upper shoulder/neck area, which causes me to have numbness in my left arm (right side). However, now I've somehow developed some lower lumbar EP (Excruciating Pain). I'd hate to think it's fallout from The Cartwheel Incident.



Was it when I dragged the full trash container from the outside patio to the alley, to be emptied into the dumpster? Surely not! I'm still young. I can still do......... stuff. Well, in my own mind anyway.



Could it have been when I dragged a 4 gallon watering can to the front porch to water the parched plants? How the hell could that be? I'm still young, right? The fact is, I could use the water hose from the front to do this, but I would have to stick my hand down into some spidery looking ivy, to turn it on. So, I deemed it more suitable to carry a huge, heavy watering can through the house, to the front porch. You know. Because I'm so good at figuring things like this out. Things like avoidance of spiders, snakes, wasps, bees, and fire ants. Among other assorted and creepy bugs and animals.



Surely it could not have been when I re-potted a huge tropical plant by myself. I've been doing that for years. I also dragged the pot to the edge of the sidewalk so it could get more sun, but that didn't hurt. Not even when it got stuck in a crack on the sidewalk, which forced me to pull harder. So much so that I nearly fell down. No way! That can't be it.



I'm not a good enough golfer to have hurt myself while playing. Oh. Wait. Actually, I am a bad enough golfer to hurt myself. Repeatedly. However, I just don't think that was it. I would have, undoubtedly, felt some sort of gut-wrenching back pain, right? Aside from the pain that ran from my shoulder to my fingertips and back, when I missed the ball and hit the ground. Time after time. Over and over. I thought those don't count. Apparently, they count somewhere. Like in an unannounced location somewhere on your body, soon to be revealed . Uh-Huh.

Anyway, the doctor has the upper hand this time. He has threatened me with being bed ridden for the rest of my life. He doesn't fight fair. He knows that's the one threat that will keep me being the good girl that I'm not. At least until I'm better. This really bites the big one.

So, I won't be posting as often as usual for a while. I think I'd prefer to spend my 45 minutes per day reading everyone's blogs and commenting. I also won't be cooking, cleaning or doing laundry, so it can't be all that bad, huh?

Golf, Snakes And Backaches...

My cartwheel incident during our trip to visit friends on the beach in Galveston, is still causing me some back pain, so I've been instructed to spend less time at the computer. Whatever. I simply cannot do that, although I will make a concentrated effort to not fall asleep in weird positions in said computer chair. Frankly, I just think most people get back pain at my age from almost any physical activity, including ironing. I hate to iron, so I just thought I'd throw that in for good measure. Perhaps I will just become accustomed to the pain, like I have my Planter's Wart, stomach ulcers, migraines, aging teeth and flat feet. I cannot imagine what it must be like to not have some kind of pain at all times. Nope. I guess I'll try to be a good girl.

It's been raining since Monday and supposed to continue through the weekend, so this is the ideal time for me to heal up. It's something like 70 degrees outside too, so I'm going to try and get over this since I won't be playing any golf anyway.

So, last week I played golf three days in row and I'm still trying to recover from it. Oh, and get this. On Friday I shot a 120, on Saturday a 105, and on Sunday a 102. Yes, Friday was a bitch. I have no idea what I did differently, but apparently I was doing something very different on Friday.

Anyway, on Saturday Mr. Snooty and I were on the 14th hole preparing to hit our second shots when Mr. S points over at my ball. I thought he was trying to show me where it was and I kind of snapped at him. "I see my ball, you idiot Dear." So he kind of gave me *A Look* then said "No you idiot honey. I mean look what's next to your ball."

You know the old saying "If it was a snake, it would have bitten you." Well, it was a snake. A baby snake about 15 inches in length and was a very delicate looking little thing. Of course, since I think every spider I see is a Brown Recluse, it only stands to reason that I also think every snake I see is a rattlesnake. Right? Well, luckily it wasn't a rattlesnake, but then I'm no expert either.

Being the crazy, obsessed dedicated blogger that I am, I had my camera with me, so I whipped it out and got a couple of shots of the snake, before I addressed my ball and absolutely smacked the snot out of it. It was the first time I had ever made a Bogie on number 14, when all I was trying to do was put as much distance as possible between myself and the snake. As quickly as possible. I'm assuming this means I need to be trying to get away from something throughout my every golf game.

We finally decided that it was a baby Bull Snake because it had no rattler at the end of its tail. However, it started coming at me when I was getting ready to hit the ball. So, I did not screw around. Nosirreeebob, I didn't. I reared back and smacked that ball with everything I had and without thinking about it. It was truly my longest 3 wood shot ever. Which made Mr. Snooty laugh. Ha Ha... Yes, it was so hilarious I forgot to laugh.