Sunday, December 19, 2010
"Idleness is not doing nothing. Idleness is being free to do anything."
-- Floyd Dell --
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The master bedroom has been sitting 1/3 painted for almost three weeks. I had chosen a powdery grayed lilac, but where three walls met at the end of the room, where I had started painting, the walls facing each other seemed to intensify the color, and it was looking more like violent violet.
I wasn't sure what to do. Continue and hope it cooled over time (the living room softened after three weeks, so why not?), stop and start over with another color, what?
Yesterday late afternoon I decided to finish the room, and I did. The color does look softer on the longer walls, but I'm still not thrilled with it.
By the time I finished I was having trouble standing straight. My back was killing me. But I knew that if I stopped, I'd have to clean all the tools before I could start again today, so I just kept going. Stubborn. I refused to let my back dictate to me.
I went to bed at 10:30 pm, on the firmer, back friendlier mattress in bedroom 2. At about 1 am I woke with my face in a crossword puzzle, and my back and lower abdomen in great pain. It felt like I had to go to the bathroom, both bladder and bowel yelling "Immediately!" I tried, but there was nothing. For the next half-hour it was back and forth from the bed to the bathroom. I couldn't find a comfortable position in the bed. My whole middle hurt so bad, front and back. My bladder and bowel kept screaming NOW! NOW!, but there was nothing. I gave up trying to lie down and I was sitting on the john trying to read a book (sitting was more comfortable than lying anyway) when the nausea hit. For that one, at least, my body wasn't fooling. I threw up my entire late dinner, which is unusual because I'd eaten some five hours before, and I have very fast digestion. There shouldn't have been anything in my stomach.
It was complaining nerves in my spine, of course. I knew that, but it doesn't make it any easier to cope with. The nerve was giving false bladder/bowel full readings, and my stomach was apparently on strike without nerve instructions.
I was lying there wishing I'd brought the heating pad from the old house, and wishing I had some aspirin. Then I remembered I'd bought a small bottle of Excedrin extra strength at a rest area on the last trip. I found it, took two, and within 15 minutes everything was all better.
Next time I know I should take an anti-inflammatory at the first sign of pain.
Yeah, "next time"! I've known that almost all my life, and I
still ignore the warnings.
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Actually, it's not ignoring or stubbornness, or that male thing of toughing it out. It's just that my mind doesn't work in certain situations, mainly like when I'm not well. When I have pain, it's like my reasoning powers disconnect.
When other people get sick, I always give them what they need. "Here, take this." But me? I can be hacking my throat raw, and it won't occur to me to take a cough suppressant. My head can be throbbing, and I don't think of aspirin. I can be dumping fluids from both ends and it won't occur to me to take anything to slow it down, or to drink more fluids to replace what I'm losing.
The only thing I ever think of for myself is the heating pad. When I'm sick, all I want is my heating pad.
I'm so proud of myself for having thought of aspirin last night.
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