I screamed when it happened and again when I straightened up. Pie was in the bathroom getting ready for a shower and yelled to ask if I was all right. I had no idea what to say, because I really wasn't. I forced myself to lie on his bed and tried to breathe through the pain.
I told him to bring me my phone and sent him back. I heard him get into the shower and wondered if to call 911. I decided to call John and see if I could get him to come home. I rang both his work and cell phones and no answer. I just redialed his cell phone over and over, hoping that someone in his office would see it vibrating on his desk (if he was in a meeting) and call his attention to it.
Pie came out of the shower and I told him that if I cannot reach Daddy in the next few minutes, I will have to go to the hospital because I hurt my back very badly and I cannot move. The look on his face almost made me want to get up and dance the fandango. He look terrified for a moment. He asked if I was going to be all right. I sent him to get dressed and let me try to reach Daddy one more time.
I really meant to dial 911 as he stepped out of the room but then we heard the front door. I thought I was hallucinating from the pain. Then, Pie said, "Daddy," and I could have fainted from relief.
John never comes home early without calling. It's like an unspoken rule. I have to have time to hide the evidence of the lover and the crack before he comes home.
We tried to get a hot pack under me but it was too painful for me to move on my side. I took some Tylenol and he went to refill my codeine prescription. He moved my laptop into Pie's room so I could at least watch a movie. I couldn't read or move, but I managed to turn my head so I could see the screen. I now have a crick in the left side of my neck.
The worst of it was when I had to go to the bathroom. I held it for as long as I could but I had to go. The pain was as bad as when I had my C-section. The initial pain was worse than any labor pain I had with Chris. Maybe it was a good thing I went through that C-section because at least I knew how to move.
I had to ease my legs off the bed first. Thank goodness Pie's bed is not very high. Then I managed to get on my side and walk my hands up until I was sitting. John helped me to stand up and I put my hands on his shoulders and we walked very slowly to the bathroom.
It's a day in your life when your husband has to pull down your jeans and underpants when you have to go potty. I was so embarrassed. John was so sweet, trying to make me laugh. I had to sit ramrod-straight and of all of the days to go number 2. Sitting upright is not conducive to pooping, let me tell you. I read about the correct way to poop and it changed my life.
I managed the rest of it by myself (thank God!) but had to call John to help me back into my underpants and to get my jammy pants instead of my jeans. Then make the trek back to the bed.
Sleeping on Pie's bed was a bitch. Sleeping on my back was a bitch. All the meds I was taking was making me nauseaous. I desperately wanted to sleep on my own bed but there was no way I could make the stairs.
John stayed home Wednesday and Thursday and took excellent care of me and last night I was able to go downstairs to my own bed. I've had to take something to help me sleep so I would not roll around too much and hurt myself. I cannot sit down for too long and I already emailed my LSAT teacher to tell her it looks like I cannot make it this weekend. I think the train ride to the Village would derail me.
I do feel a bit better and can move around. I cannot bend over, though, so Pie is chief picker-upper for the next few days. I am going to try to cook today because the boys have been eating pasta for 3 days and I ate macaroni and cheese for 2 days in a row and cannot look at it anymore.
