Sorry for the lack of posts lately (although I think I deserve a little credit for the frequency with which I apologize for not posting more frequently). I really expected to be back to more regularly scheduled blogging by now, but I plead guilty with an explanation; unfortunately, I've got too much pain on the brain to actually explain at the moment, so I'm taking a risk that Mark Zuckerberg might sue me for violating his copyright to my words by porting over my last few status updates from Facebook:
Here's my State of the Union Report on what
condition my condition is in. In a word: Ouch. In a more expressive
and accurate word: [Expletive Deleted]. Apparently gnomes have been
sneaking into my room at night and replacing my spine with a string of
Black Cat firecrackers smuggled over from Tijuana, because when I picked
up a 24 lb jug of cat litter yesterday and leaned over to pour it out,
my vertebrae began exploding one after another.
Without hyperbole, this is the worst pain I've experienced in 3 years
at least. Practically immobilized yesterday, and today, getting out of
bed was a laborious process that involved a good deal of trial and
error, the improvisation of various Rube Goldbergian devices for
acquiring leverage, and more weeping and cursing than the Russian
Roulette scene in The Deer Hunter.
State of the Spine report: Spent 9 minutes
trying to get up this morning, displaying the grit, determination, and
gracelessness of an inverted, ruptured tortoise attempting to right
itself. Seriously considered just giving up and wetting the bed, but
suspected that might prove legitimate grounds for divorce, so eventually
I just put a washcloth in my mouth and pretended I was a cowboy biting
down on a hunk of rawhide as I lay
wild-eyed and feverish on my saddle, while the chuckwagon cook squatted
in the flickering glow of the campfire and used a jackknife and a
toasting fork to dig an arrowhead out of my back.
came free (which is to say, I got a foot on the floor and a hand on the
night stand). Cookie staunched the blood flow with a sweaty
neckerchief, then the Trail Boss pulled out the harness strap I'd nearly
bitten in half and allowed me a long, grateful pull of whiskey before
they rolled me over and cauterized the wound with a branding iron.
(Side effects may include pain, infection, unmanly shrieking, persistent
scar tissue, and the tendency to be mistaken for a steer while standing
in a bucolic environment. Ask your doctor if branding is right for you.)
However, now that I'm upright enough to swallow a pill without choking,
I'm finding that helpful meds are helpful, and the pain is less
constant, and more like brief, intense floggings with a cat o'nine
tails, so I'll probably be switching to "The Story of O" fantasy for the
remainder of the day.
Today's Beast With One Malfunctioning Back report begins with the Riddle of the Sphinx: "What moves on four legs in the morning, on two legs at noon, and on three legs in the evening?" If you answered, "Man," then you correctly guessed that A) I finally answered one of those spam emails for Male Enhancement, or B) I shamefacedly asked Mary to buy me a cane so I can make it from my desk to the bathroom. In related news, a lion with the head of a woman just burst into flames somewhere, and I say Good Riddance, because I think these Monsanto genetic modification products have just gotten out of hand.
So the bottom line is, things are much worse today. I can't straighten up, the meds are barely touching the pain, and I may have to sleep in the recliner tonight, because Mary's back at work tomorrow and I can't get out of bed unassisted. On the bright side, I did manage to slip a Sophocles reference into my daily bitchfest about my back, so while I'm whiny, I'd also edifying.
Okay, this is now officially the most self-indulgent post I've ever written, having navel-gazed all the way through to my backbone, but I wanted you guys to know why I haven't made good on my promise of more regular posts, and why any future posts over the next few days may sound a little on the opiate-assisted side.