|Hangin' in SF with Flat Max back in June|
Many, many months ago, the Spouse Thingy mentioned that this years' AANA conference would be in San Francisco, and I squealed and told him he had to go, because then I could tag along and explore more of the city while he attended sessions or classes or whatever the hell they call those multi-hour blogs of lecturing and teaching and sharing.
I had plans, dangit. Shopping. Wandering around the Museum of Modern Art. Finding a place to sit and people-watch. Shopping.
Then a month ago I got sick, probably sicker than I have ever been, and going was seriously in doubt.
But then I started feeling better, and figured I would be fine by the day we were supposed to leave. Still, on Monday I told him I wasn't sure, because I was still awfully tired, so I wasn't counting on going.
I wanted to, for sure.
A couple of days ago I realized I was actually feeling pretty good. And I started thinking I would probably be fine as long as I didn't push it too hard. I could go, crash in the hotel room when needed, and shop and wander and shop when I felt like it. And even if I didn't go, there's a lot around the house that needs to be done, because face it, I haven't done anything around here for a month.
In fact, I felt so good yesterday that I decided to move a few things around in the bedroom.
I cleared off a TV stand that was used for everything but a TV, intending to move it to the front room where it would wait for a week or five to be donated to Goodwill, after which I would move a bookcase to the spot where it had been. With everything off and out of the stand, I bent at the knees, leaned over to get a good grip...and felt something near my hip go pop-pop-pop.
|Almost the right spot...|
Still bent over, there was a nice ribbon of Ouch running from my backside, over my hip bone, and into my groin. When I stood up, a nice, thick, jagged knife of Oh Hell No joined it, which resulted in the Spouse Thingy having to move the stand and the book case, complete with books, while I shuffled into the living room and tried to to sit in my recliner.
Motrin, heat, rest...it was pretty clear pretty fast that I was not going anywhere this weekend.
Nor was I going to get any of that delayed housework done.
That's much less of a dammit there.
On the bright side, I don't think anything actually tore, or if it did it's not too bad. I have really good pain meds on hand for night, and I suspect by Monday or Tuesday it won't be bad at all.
But yeah...I need a new body because all this tearing of things and pulling of things and getting sick is getting really, really old.