I feel like I have been raised from the dead. Today is exactly two weeks since I injured my low back. I feel like I have been to hell and back.
I am not even usually a drama queen or a whiner.
But I am glad to be back.
I saw my doctor today. She confirmed my notion that I sprained a back muscle (since she was a PA, she said nothing about subluxating my sacroiliac joint. We will leave that to the chiropractors).
Speaking of chiropractors, I had a stellar massage on Wednesday. Gifted to me by one of my adult piano students. She had sports massage training and has worked with chiropractors. I cannot say the massage was that enjoyable. But it produced results. In fact, when I was an LMT, I would tell my clients to drink a ton of extra water following their massage. Because deep massage releases toxins into the bloodstream. That is what they taught us in massage school.
And I can confirm this after Wednesday. I felt like I had come down with the flu Wednesday evening and all day Thursday. I woke up each night drenched in sweat. My appetite reduced to almost zilch. Extreme headache.
Then my friend F (who was an old massage client of mine and found me on my dating app) texted me and asked if I would go sit in a hot tub with him. He did not want to go alone. You see F, has sciatica. And he is having surgery next week.
So I hauled my tired butt out of bed and hobbled up the street to the bus stop. It was 3:00 p.m. I planned to sit and sip tea before we met at the hot tub at 5:00.
As I reached my stop, I realized I had not eaten all day! That is when I knew there was something wrong. Usually my first waking thought and last thought before I sleep is about food. But on the up side, I have lost 6 pounds this week!
Just then F called apologizing. He works downtown and traffic was backed up due to the Trump protestors. So he would be about 30 minutes late. He sounded upset. I told him not to worry. I was happy to have gotten out of the house. I was not in a hurry.
So I stopped at McDonalds. They had a chicken nugget mini meal. Four chicken nuggets, small fry, small drink for like $3.50. It was a nice comfort food meal. And I was pleasantly satisfied afterwards. Yes, I know it was not healthy. But it made me smile.
F pulled up when I was done. We had a nice visit and long hot tub soak. He lives on the west side. I told him I was fine on the bus. It was nice warm night out. I felt quite a bit of relief after that long soak. So I took the bus to IHOP and had a chicken cobb salad. I did not finish it all. But this is all good. Once my back is healed, I hope my eating disorder is also healed!
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| IHOP Chicken Cobb Salad |
An interesting development from this whole back injury adventure is that I have become more of an extrovert. I have had many conversations about back pain with people. Most on the dating app! It seems that is a very good way to meet men. Very nice men! I have several very nice men texting me throughout the day to check on me. My friend F from the hot tub yesterday found me on the dating app.
And I met a very nice man, L at the bus stop today. We talked away our 15 minute wait, sharing delightful stories of our pain.
It seems the whole world is in pain now. I am drained. And I am wounded by the angry hateful words people are spewing on Facebook. The protests downtown have gotten quite destructive and frightening.
I was feeling saddened and wounded by some friends comments. So this was my post today, Veterans Day 2016:
Many of my FB friends have posted that they do not fear a Trump presidency. But they fear the violent protests that have erupted.
I am also not afraid of Trump. I do not hate him. I rarely hate. But I have fear. I am white. But I have never felt white privilege. I love people of all races, beliefs, sexual orientation...I love you all!
I guess my label would be under "white trash". Humans seem to need to label. I do hate that! But we were poor. My father was abusive. I was shy and bespectacled. I was bullied at school. As a young woman I was molested. I was raped. I was abandoned to raise two children on my own. But I never went on welfare. Guess I was determined to fight the WT label.
Who can I blame for my hurts? Does my life matter? I believe it does. But I am not out setting fires, breaking windows or blocking traffic. I lifted myself up. With God's help. With loving support from friends and sometimes even strangers. And mostly by breaking the cycle of abuse. My children and I tell each other and our loved ones several times a day we love them. As a middle aged woman, I just want peace and love. I blame no one that I was born with a victim's mentality. Because it gave me compassion.
I am still poor. The working poor. I have no car. I rent a room from my daughter and son-in-law.
But I am happy. And I would not trade my life, my family, my student's, and my friends for all the riches in the world.
I've said my piece. And I embrace peace and love.
I hope you will too.
Much love, especially to all who have served and currently do serve our country.
God bless.
Zita
My heart was warmed with some very loving comments to this post, and a hug from my son in law. I am feeling connected by love to some very precious people.
Our world is wounded. Especially our country. Instead of violent protests and riots, perhaps what we need is a big group hug!
Happy Friday!
Happy Veterans Day!
Zita
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