BACK OFF MY BITCHES, WORLD!!!

::hushed golf announcer voice:: "And then, Kristin made a dramatic entrance. With a flaming sword."

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BACK OFF MY BITCHES, WORLD!!!

Yes, listen to Kristin for she is wise in this.

How are you doing tonight? Are you feeling better?

Okay a painfully hot bath, a nicely cold beer and a some fine U.S. pharmacuticals (Which, okay, googling tells me is usually dosed out at three times what I have. Explains the painful wimpiness of it.) are good things when combined. Now to ice. I didn't drain the tub yet as I suspect there is another round in the offing before I can try for sleep.

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Alert: alcohol and drugs shouldn't be mixed. It's bad. And wrong. But I'll take the risk tonight with one of each if it means the pain that has me on the verge of tears eases up just a little.

Eh, it's not like you're approaching Elvis levels. (I mean, in general I oppose mixing booze and pills, but -- you're in pain, honey. Do it.)

t edit Cass, what drugs are you taking? Please tell me it's flexoril. That's the only muscle relaxer that's worth a damn.

I have a haircut appointment for 10 a.m. tomorrow -- it was the only appointment I could get for the next 2 weeks. When did my stylist get so popular? She and I are going to have a chat. But yay -- I will be de-fright-wig-ified!

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It didn't work, Kristin.

Those of you who read James Thurber may remember that the one thing that didn't happen the night the bed fell was the bed actually falling. I have old twin beds that I've been moving around a lot because I was painting. Apparently the little metal doohicky that holds the frame together got loosened or knocked off in this process. I was leaning across the bed to put on the mattress pad and it collapsed. I wasn't even lying on the damn bed. My body has that "you're going to regret this in morning" feeling.

I'm so glad there are no video cameras in my house, although I suppose that could be the next great reality show: Ginger vs. Gravity.

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This is getting ridiculous. Aimee's horrific bank card fraud, Ginger's vicious bed frame, Cass' poor back, GC's poor Gram, Fay's car...I'd go on, but it might give the Powers That Be more ideas.

t brandishes flaming sword

Be. Nice. To. My. Bitches. I don't know how to use this thing, and I'm liable to set something on fire.

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Ginger vs. Gravity.

Oh dear, I hope you can conquer gravity in the end. And I hope you aren't too sore from the battle in the morning. I'm debating voting gravity off of the island but I don't know if that would be for the best.

but -- you're in pain, honey. Do it.

We're not even close to Elvisifying right now. Just edging towards the tolerable realm of shocking pain. Though I suppose Elvis might have started with a beer in the bath at some point. I should jot down some lyrics maybe.

Not flexoril either, though there shall be a phoned in request for it tomorrow if I can't get the insurance cleared up enough to actually see the doctor. Especially as I can't get through work tomorrow with a beer and a bath waiting for me at half hour intervals.

Tonight I have methocarbamol which has never impressed me in the least. It's part of a combo kit for the stress headaches.

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Okay, I'm going to acquiesce to the time zone and try to go to sleep. So Cass, I hope you get some pain relief, honey. My back is sending back~ma westwards.

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Cereal:

Tonight I have methocarbamol which has never impressed me in the least.

Eh. Methocarbamol -- if you take 2 -- with a beer -- is good for weekend-warrior type muscle aches. Honestly, I don't think it does shit for pain that's worse than a 2 or 3 (on a scale of 0 to 10, where 0 is, well, zero, and 10 is Just Fucking Kill Me Now). When my back was injured, pre-surgery, methocarbamol did nothing for it. It's decent for cramps, I suppose. But I've often suspected it of being a placebo.

Flexoril, on the other hand, is Teh Shit. It fucking rules.

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Be. Nice. To. My. Bitches. I don't know how to use this thing, and I'm liable to set something on fire.

Hee. I vote for Jack Bauer to talk Kristin down. National security is at stake!

Meanwhile, and this doesn't mitigate any of the other crap a-going on right now, but the Universe seems to have decided I get to be on top of the ferris wheel for a bit. It's even a lovely clear day outside. On a clear day you can see forever, you know. Or AS' office building, anyway.

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But I've often suspected it of being a placebo.

Oh good. I can banish all thoughts of "Ooooh, It's Sooooo Bad" then for the night.

We were at about a 7 earlier on the OmiGodPain Scale at times but consistently only a 5-5.5.

And now about a 3, where 3 is kicked in the gut cramps and backache where you get dizzy when you stand and want to hurl from the pain but you can technically take it and you know that actually digging your stomach out with a spoon would hurt more.

I don't want it to get worse because last time I hurt worse (IBS) I went to the ER and was given Demerol which was teh ugh. It knocked out the pain but brought on the paranoid.

There should be a note on my chart, Demoral (I am trying out different spellings, choose the one that isn't wrong) bad, try something else. I mean, it's not a deadly allergy note but it really sucked in my brain for a while there.

Back has gone back to the fizzy tingley thing. It doesn't so much hurt when it does this as freak me the hell out.

Flexoril, on the other hand, is Teh Shit. It fucking rules.

I am resolved -- if I don't get to actually have a doctor look at this tomorrow and, as righteous as my indignation is, I don't think there is any chance of getting that far with the benefits fiasco -- I am calling and getting a script for Flexoril tomorrow. I'll just pay the out of pocket and deal with it later.

Thanks Tep! Sleep well.

I vote for Jack Bauer to talk

to MEEEEEEEEEE... For long, long hours. Mmm, I like his voice.

Meanwhile, and this doesn't mitigate any of the other crap a-going on right now, but the Universe seems to have decided I get to be on top of the ferris wheel for a bit.

Oh you totally deserve it. Honest and truly. The view sounds lovely.

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