I’m still laid up on an ice pack, all these days later. It’s better than it was; I can now change positions, go from laying to sitting or sitting to standing almost normally, without taking an excessive amount of time to do it. But my back still hurts almost constantly. I’ve been to the chiropractor three times and had three massages since Friday (life of leisure I tell you!), but still, sore. It’s hard being trapped in one place, being forced to slow down, cancelling shifts and seeing money disappear and feeling bad for coworkers on busy wards (why are one million people having babies every week? Stop it ladies!). But like a few people have said, it’s not the worst thing being forced to stop. Maybe I just needed a little bit of a life break or something. Anyway I’m hoping I feel very much better by Wednesday, when Neil goes away for a few days. He’s been taking such good care of me, feeding me T3’s and replenishing my ice pack, making suppers and cleaning up afterwards. I’m lucky to have such a good man in my life. My kids have been great too, helping out where they can, waiting patiently in doctor’s offices (the chiropractor said he’d never seen four such well-behaved children before).
My niece Talasi turns one today, and we celebrated on Saturday. I dragged myself out to Portage with my ice pack, mainly because I knew my massage therapist mother would help me out with a massage or two. I didn’t want the kids to miss their cousin’s first birthday either.
Happy birthday Tali. You’re basically the cutest, squishiest one year old ever.
(Tank tops last week, sweaters and jackets this week. Boo.)