Do Not Drive or Operate Heavy Machinery

...A post which I write to you from the edge of a drug-induced haze.

I've done something to my back - again. I have no idea WHEN it happened, I only know that it did because, well, I'm in pain.

I don't mind so much when I know for sure that I did something - even if it's something stupid - that caused my discomfort. I've thrown my back out flipping a towel off my wet hair after a shower or snapping out sheets while making the bed; I've done it reaching into a grocery cart for a soup can; I've hurt myself trying to gently lay sleeping babies in their beds or tripping on the stairs. When I can point to some event and say "THERE! THAT'S where this all started!" and know for sure that I'll be more careful when doing whatever "THAT" was again, I don't feel quite so indignant at being nearly incapacitated by my lower back. When I have no CLUE what I did to bring me to this place, though, it makes being here all that much less pleasant.

I took a Flexeril about 20 minutes ago, and the excruciating spasms across the top of my butt are starting to give way. Of course, the pill also makes me stupid and fit for little else than an early bedtime. I'm hoping that a good night's sleep will contribute to a less painful tomorrow, and that my chiropractor will just happen to come into his office tomorrow morning and find the message I left on his machine this afternoon. But that may just turn out to be a wishful hallucination...