Saturday, July 26, 2008

In This Case, R & R Means Recumbent And Recuperation


Pulled Muscle

 A hotel room. Chicago, IL

The exercise Gods are evil and possibly sending me a message? Other than that, I can't really think of a good reason.

Approximately 11 pm.

 Let me set the stage for you: Earlier in the evening, I had finished the delicious Baked Mostaciolli, garlic bread, and crisp green salad I had ordered from a local Italian restaurant and delivered to my room (piping hot, to my surprise!). I also had a sliver of
Eli's Famous Cheesecake waiting in the fridge.

I spent most of the evening after dinner lounging around in my beautifully appointed hotel room, sipping premium in-room coffee (with French Vanilla creamer), watching a chick flick on TV, and tapping away on my computer. I had complete control of the air conditioning (66 degrees) and complete control of the remote (hence the girlie viewing choice).

Then, I got up.
What I thought was me rising in a sloth-like manner (slow and deliberate) must have been lightning fast in actuality, because as soon as I rose out of the chair and twisted my body in the direction of more premium coffee, I pulled a muscle.

I couldn't move. Not even an inch.
I gripped the edge of the desk and squeaked out a plea of help to Ed. His ears were encased in noise-canceling headphones as he was working on something on his computer, so he didn't even notice me rise; or standing there like a statue either, apparently.

I cried out to him again and he finally got up to help me. The pain was so severe, you would have thought I took a punch in the rib.

 Ed determined through Dr. Google that I either pulled an abdominal external oblique muscle, had cancer, broke a rib, was riddled with gallstones, or had colonitis; I was rooting for the pulled muscle since it felt as if Charley's Horse was running the Kentucky Derby up the left side of my body.

I was wearing my fuschia velour sweat pants and black spaghetti strap tank top and knew if I got into bed dressed in those pants, I'd be hot and wouldn't be able to move on my own later to get them off and sleep comfortably. I asked Ed to slip my pants down so I could get into bed in just my tank and undies.

At that very moment, I had a sharp stabbing pain and froze in place again as I tightened my grip around Ed's neck and he firmed up his embrace around my waist.
I started to panic thinking that we'd have to call an ambulance and I'd be standing there in my underwear not being able to move.

I think I started to sweat at this point. There was no way I was getting on a gurney without makeup, full as a tick and without finishing my cheesecake.

After he layed me on the bed, he ran around getting i-boo (ibuprofen) and bags of ice. He wrapped my ribs with some cloth, which eased the ache, propped me up with a pillow and an ice pack, and checked on me every twenty minutes. Who knew he had such a great bedside manner??

Now I'm wearing one of
these. I think I'm the only person I know of who has a pulled an abdominal oblique muscle by doing absolutely nothing.

I don't even have a good story. All I did was eat and stand up. That's why I believe the exercise Gods decided to smote me.

On the upside, the back brace works a bit like a girdle and has narrowed my mid-section by inches.

I may have a broken rib and walk like an infant taking her first steps, but I also have a very waspish waist.


Real Live Lesbian said...

In sympathy with your pain, I shall ne'er exercise again. It can't be good for you.

~**Dawn**~ said...

Well, I know after reading this, I will have a lot more sympathy when my favorite athletes have an oblique strain! Ouch!

Anonymous said...

I hope you feel better soon.

Amy said...

OW! Sorry to hear you're pulled and strained.

At least the waahbulance didn't have to be called, nor did the fuschia velour pants be sacrificed. When I dislocated my knee, the ambulance people had to CUT OFF my pink paisley pants to get to the knee. Damn I was mad.

Anonymous said...

I gotta get me one of those. I haven't had a waspish waistline since I was two!
ed's mom

Paul Daniel Ash said...

I'm sorry for your pain... but this IS a good story! All comedy, except for the cheesecake tragedy...

Anonymous said...

Only you Salena...only you. You can have plenty of cheesecake as you recover!