ahhh relaxation

Holy shmoley my back is out. I think it knows I'm on vacation, did a hard relax, and now it's a mess. Two spots; one up just under my shoulder and one down at the bottom of my back, which feels mostly okay until I turn or bend a particular, slight way, and then POW it spazzes out. Feels like I imagine being stabbed might feel. When it happens, I bleat out "OH!" or something like it, automatically. Poor Scott.
I'm doing everything I can think to do outside of involving people who could actually help me. What is that?? I've never been to a chiropractor, and I don't call because... I don't know. My beloved massage therapist moved and now I don't have one, and it's so expensive... and the doctor, well, I dunno. Would the Minute Clinic take me in, and give me medicine? Hmmm...
While I muddle around not doing anything actually helpful, I'm icing, and taking Aleve (kidneys be damned) and trying to keep moving, or stay still. I have a lot to do, plenty of ways to keep moving.
Maybe I'll lay on the hard floor for a bit. OH!

7 Quick Takes, on the Wrong Day. So.

1) I know this  is a Friday thing, but I feel like Monday holidays are much like Fridays, right? I mean really I have Fridays off so Thursdays are MY Fridays, and once you start thinking like that, you can write a Friday blog post any old day of the week. It's a slippery slope.

2) So, I graduated from grad school. It felt great! I did wonder if maybe I'd done the whole thing wrong when hardly any of my professors seemed to recognize me on graduation day, and I had to introduce myself to the three other people in my program as we lined up. To be fair, they didn't know each other either, and the class sizes were big, so it's not completely unthinkable that I didn't become a star in the professor's estimation. But a friend (I did make one friend) introduced me to a faculty member (the dean of students, I think?) who said "how did I never meet you all this time?" and I said "well I haven't spoken to anyone during my whole time here." Which is, a little bit, true. Around me, people were misty-eyed at leaving this time in their lives behind, and everyone understood the inside jokes in the dean's homily, but not me. I found out that my Dad had had the same experience in grad school. He said "I just drove in, took my classes, and drove home." Still, everyone's been congratulating me and there's a big party planned, and I'm trying to give myself credit for having achieved something not everyone does and having worked hard and whatnot. But the truth is, I feel mostly proud of having slogged through it. More like a veteran than a victor.

3) after graduation we went to lunch, a lovely place near my parish, where the waitress almost immediately dumped an entire tray of drinks down my back. I still giggle just thinking about it, it was sangria mostly, and a bloody mary ended up mostly in my purse. It happened in slow motion, I swear, and I remember looking down at a stick of olives sitting on top of my iphone in my purse. I laughed, because, you know, what can you do? People are... dying... somewhere. You know? And the poor waitress cried. Cried! The dress came clean, and I got a free lunch and a funny memory from graduation day. And I think I'm the first child in our family to be responsible for wine stains on my dad's pants. So!

Come on, that's funny!

4) On Saturday Scott was away on retreat and I had a whole lot of weekending to cram into one, beautiful day. I was super productive; weeding the garden, putting my new compost bin together, fixing the damned bird feeder (again), cleaning up some of the yard, grocery shopping, snacking, napping, etc. etc... by about 3:30 my back was OUT. I have come to the conclusion (late, as usual for me) that I have a bad back. It occurs to me that it's been bad for a pretty long time. In fact, the first time I came to understand what the word "out" meant in this context, I finally went to the doctor, who asked me how long I'd been in pain. I reviewed my life, and said "I guess... about three years now?" Turns out I have "high pain tolerance" and can stand more than the average wimp, pain-wise. That's a pretty cool thing to learn about myself, like a newly-discovered super power. I don't complain much, I don't think, pain-wise, so when I do you can know I'm in deep. I've never seen a chiropractor, and I suppose I should. Maybe that's something I can do with all my extra time and money now that I'm all graduated and stuff.

5) I've had to stop myself from watching the Red Sox this season. It seems like every time I tuned in, they'd start to tank, so I'm taking one from the team. I love watching/listening to Sox games so it is an actual sacrifice. I'm giddy with excitement for the Olympics though, and I probably would have lost track of the Sox once they start anyway, so I will still have lots of stuff to watch over the summer. I think the Olympics and the Tour de France start the same week, so I may have to take some vacation days.

6) I picked up an Anne Tyler book the other day, and already I'm starting to think/talk like she writes. Maybe it's really that she writes like I think/talk, but whenever I read her books I find myself feeling a little weird, and more myself at the same time. I don't know how to describe what happens, it's just that her use of language is a lot like mine, at least in my head. Here's a sample sentence:

Well. So. Here he was.

I know, right? There's something about using "So" as a sentence that just gives me a thrill. Anyway, that's where I'll be today,  on the porch reading something not at all about God or moral theology or any such stuff.

7) ... and drinking rose wine (I bought some the other day, it's NOT THE SAME THING AS WHITE ZINFANDEL, it's much more classy and adult, I hear. I haven't tried it yet but it looks lovely and so summery. I'll let you know.)... and dreaming of strawberry desserts. I have a whole bank of strawberry plants with green berries just waiting to turn red. From there it'll be a full-on battle, racing the bunnies and squirrels (I blame the squirrels) for the just-ripe berries. I have a cage for some of the plants that saves me a few, and embarrasses Scott. But mmmmmm strawberries, you know? Mmmmm.

What a pain...

My doctor told me once that I have a high tolerance for pain. It was a relief to be "diagnosed" this way, because I never had really known how to handle pain- I'm never sure when it's bad enough to be complained about. The doctor told me that when I went in because my back was out.
I had heard about backs going out, but until mine really went out, I knew what people meant by "out." I had been sleeping on a board, because our bed was old and way too squishy. (Really, a BOARD!) When the doctor asked how long I'd had back pain, I said "well, I guess about 4 years or so." I guess most people address things like this before 4 years go by.
Now my back is out again, but still it's hard to know how to address it. I mean, I feel fine unless I move or sneeze or have to lean one way or another. And even though it feels like stabbing when it happens, it only lasts a minute or so. So I'm being a good soldier, and taking Aleve, and hoping it'll right itself.
Or maybe I'll see a chiropractor. My sister says that no chiropractor will ever tell anyone that they don't need chiropractic care. At the fair this week I had free assessment from one in the "trade hall," one of my favorite buildings there... it's the one where they sell the Sham-wows and the sandpaper hair- remover pads... the chiropractor said that I carry 12 more pounds on my right foot than my left, and noticed that my right shoulder is significantly lower than my left- which I knew, it's been that way since my rainbow-colored book bag from high school.
I thought my surgery would really help my back, and I think it actually has- but surprisingly I have had to relearn how to sit and stand, because my posture is really really different now.
You know what else though? Here's something really painful: the Cleveland Show. Wow, it is a stinker.