Let's go walking, fat ass!

You know you are in bad physical shape when you injure yourself in the bed, and there is no freaky sex involved. I was getting into bed the other night when I felt a wad of something under my butt-- one of Tim's many pillows, perhaps. I raised my butt up to move it, and a pain shot through my right shoulder and up my neck, and I was suddenly in the worst pain in recent memory. Tim massaged my shoulder for a few minutes, and it felt better, but when I woke up the next morning I couldn't move. That's not an exaggeration, people. I couldn't move. The first second I was awake, I knew something was terribly wrong. I actually woke up gasping in pain. I couldn't move my head at all, and moving my right arm was nearly impossible. Any movement shot pain up through my right shoulder and neck. My head was tilted to the left and I didn't even consider trying to straighten it.

Tim got up and tended to Charlie, and I spent the next 20-30 minutes crying and inching my way out of the bed. I went to the employee health clinic at Tim's work-- the drive there with my head permanently stuck in one position was a lot of fun-- and even though I was convinced I had torn something in half, they said I just had a bad muscle spasm aka "crick in the neck." I got some muscle relaxers, anti inflammatories, and steroids, and spent the rest of the day taking Flexeril and sleeping. I literally slept the entire day. That stuff will knock you on your butt. I was dreading the following day because Tim would be gone back to work and I knew that picking up Charlie was going to KILL, but when I woke up yesterday morning, I could barely tell that my neck had been hurt at all. It felt 99% better. I attribute that to the steroids, I guess. Anyway, this morning I woke up in pain again, but nothing compared to what I felt Monday.

I've got to get in better shape. I can't believe I just spent two days in hell because I lifted my ass three inches off the bed.