sunday, the tenth of december, 2000

Reading: Wuthering Heights, which I found in my bedside table, and happened to be the only reading material within arm's reach during my convalescence. It's kind of hard to get into.

Also reading: Internet Persona, another referral log find, another lawyer, another excellent journal! She's also as addicted to diet Coke as I am, which is another reason why I like her.

Watching: Election coverage. I was off the bandwagon for a while, but it's been a rather exciting couple of days, from a legal standpoint if nothing else. Plus I got my father to admit that if things were backwards, Bush would be doing all the same things that Gore is doing, which is sort of a coup as far as my dad goes.

Anticipating: The Messiah Sing-along next Sunday. I finally found one in Kansas City. It's at an Episcopal cathedral downtown, and I actually went to my first sing-along there in the late 1980's with my brother and his then-girlfriend. I looked them up to see if they were still doing them, and they are. So yay.

Also anticipating: I was in the bathroom at the time, but I swear I heard that they're going to start showing SportsNight on Comedy Central. (Elspeth! Dora! Yay!) I can't tell you how happy this made me, if it's true. Must investigate.

Thanking: Myself, for the fact that I went and bought a television for my bedroom last Christmas.

Dreaming: That I was pregnant. I was going to have a girl, and I was going to name her Lillian Marie.

Random Fact: I have seen Phil Gramm, the Senator from Texas, in his bathrobe. See main entry.

~ & ~

The law is a sort of hocus-pocus science.
-- Charles Macklin

(too tired to find a new one this time, besides which it's sort of appropriate for all this election hullaballoo)

~ & ~

Link of the Day:

The London Sunday Times

The lead in today's Culture article about Buffy: "The American television industry consists of large numbers of highly intelligent people doing very stupid things. The cream of US universities are drawn to Hollywood by money and glamour, and there they churn out appalling soaps, sitcoms, news and breakfast shows, nut'n'slut [???...E.] confrontations and cop'n'doc dramas, all of them designed to stupefy the masses to the point where they are incapable of switching off or turning over."

It goes on to say that Buffy is an exception, so don't worry. They don't spend the entire article calling us shallow.

So. From Thursday at about 11:00 a.m. to today, Sunday, at about 5:00 p.m., I was in my bedroom, except for a total of probably a half an hour, because that's how long it took me to get to the bathrom and back again.

Yes, that's right. My back went out again.

Shit.

Thursday started out like any other day. I woke up, took a shower, got dressed, drove to work, sat at my desk, and worked. Then at about 10:15, I went up to our lunch room to get a bagel. Since I had some change left over, I dropped it in the soda machine, pushed the diet Coke button, and leaned over to retrieve it.

BAM. Pain. Pain. God-awful pain when I stood up. At the bottom of my spine, right above where it connects with my tailbone.

I stood there, scared to death. The last time this happened, I had to lie down immediately, and I didn't get up for two days. In those seconds while I was waiting, I had awful visions of what would happen if I had to lie down right then. People crowding around while I tried not to die of embarrassment because there would be no way I could get out of the lunch room without a stretcher.

Thank God, I could still walk, very slowly. I went back down to my office and stood at my desk for about a minute, tears starting to form as I realized it wasn't getting any better. The lights were off in the office next to mine, so I found his secretary, got assurances that he wouldn't be in that day, and went to lie down.

After a couple of minutes, I knew I had to get home, or I would be stuck there, and again, with the stretcher. So I called Gillian, who works about six blocks away, and has one of those Saturns with the third door. I climbed into the back and laid on my stomach with my legs bent up at the knees, praying that I would still be able to walk by the time she got me home.

I was. I went up to my apartment, grabbed my cordless phone, my big-ass bottle of Aleve, my heating pad, some bread, a jar of peanut butter, a box of Corn Chex, and a container of cranberry juice, and got in bed.

I got out of bed at about 8:00 that night. I could no longer walk, even on my hands and knees, so I crawled to the bathroom on my stomach. (I realized how much easier this was in my apartment at law school, where I had hardwood floors. As I write this, I have some lovely rugburns on my elbows and knees.)

Of course, once I was done in the bathroom (and believe me, you do not want to know about it), I could no longer get up into bed. I pulled some dirty clothes out of the closet for cushioning, pulled the comforter off the bed, and tried to sleep. Except that the lights for both the closet and the bathroom were on because I couldn't reach the switches, and the television was still on, which I couldn't see from my position on the floor.

So I listened to ER, Leno, and Conan. After that, an informercial came on, and I was finally motivated to crawl over and reach up to turn it off.

Friday. Friday, I was able to get back in bed at about 5:00 that afternoon, but it was painful, and I still couldn't walk. Saturday, still no walking, but I could at least move around on my hands and knees and straighten up when I was on my knees, which meant I could finally brush my teeth, after three days. (Still no shower, mind you.) I had hoped to walk Saturday night, but no luck.

I finally got up today and found that I could walk, although it took me forever to get anywhere. Fortunately, I could also stand in one place long enough to get in the shower, because I was getting pretty rank. As the day progressed, my movements got better and better, to where I could finally come out and lie on the couch, order some pizza, and wash my sheets.

So. Needless to say, it's been a horrible four days. I only broke down once, on Friday when I couldn't get up off the floor. I sobbed into my dirty clothes, cursing myself for not keeping up on my back exercises and thinking about how awful it would have been if I had not been able to walk out of my office on Thursday.

Fortunately, my health insurance kicked in last Friday, so I can go the doctor this week and get a new prescription and probably some physical therapy.

The last time this happened so severely was January of 1999. I went to a physical therapist who showed me back exercises, which I did faithfully for probably four months, and then sort of forgot about. After feeling so grateful for just being able to get up on the bed, I knew that once I learned those exercises again, they are just going to have to be part of my regular life from now on. The fact is, next time I might not have enough time to get home. I be could be at work, or I could be on a plane or in the grocery store or anywhere, and I just don't want to risk it again. Not only would it be incredibly embarrassing, but I'd also probably need to be taken to a hospital, so it would be all kinds of expensive as well.

I think I'm also going to have the doctor put me on a diet, or recommend a program, or something. My excess weight is certainly not helping the back problem, and the fact that I am turning 29 in eight days is scaring the life out of me. I don't want to be like this forever, and it's something I've been putting off for much too long.

So, in my state of immobility, I've watched loads of television. Friday was mostly election stuff, then "A Christmas Carol" with Patrick Stewart. Saturday, I watched TBS almost all day, starting with The Breakfast Club, then Pretty in Pink, then Malice. Then I switched over and found out that the Supreme Court had stopped the count, so I watched that for a while.

Today was mostly random surfing, but I did come across Bravo Profiles about Jim Carrey, and learned that the costume for The Grinch almost made him go crazy, so Ron Howard brought in a guy who trains Navy Seals in survival techniques to help him deal with it, and it worked.

Speaking of Bravo, did anyone catch the new Inside the Actor's Studio last week? Do you know who my obsequious little Jimmy Lipton had on? Ben Affleck. Ben Affleck. I mean, really.

About Phil Gramm: I spent my senior year of high school at a private school in Washington DC. His son also went there, and he hosted the cast party after our production of "The Skin of Our Teeth." Phil came downstairs in his bathrobe to say that we better not be drinking any alcohol. He apparently did not notice that 85% of the students had at least one hand behind their back or under the table or otherwise out of sight.

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