ohhhhh... i'd say about 7.
feeling a bit like Frida today. and not in a good way. i spent the majority of yesterday laying on ice in bed, hoping to stop the pain roller-coaster before it really got moving... but atlas. my iffy disk is a cruel sadist. i'll definitely need to go to the doctor later today. or the ER. whichever entity will see me and give me muscle relaxers. then, i'm going to spend the next several days laying flat on my back, stuck like a turtle, and trying to maintain a positive outlook on this shit. i'll watch the movie Frida and be reminded that, for however big my pain is, it is nothing compared to hers. i don't need to be wrapped in a cast or held in traction. this time around, i was standing on one foot in my bedroom, pulling a shoe off my foot. a fucking lightening bolt of pain ran through my body and literally brought me to my knees. i stayed there on the floor for several minutes, shocked by the level of pain that i'd just experienced, shocked that such an innocent act had brought it on, and silently begging Fate not to put me in bed for a month. currently, i can hardly walk but that's not really an accurate barometer of how badly i;m hurt. i could be back to normal in just a few days so long as i go to the doctor. i've learned now just to go. don't be proud, take the drugs, and stay in bed. it sucks. i don't want to be that person. i don't want to be seen as fragile. i'm not fucking fragile and i don't need to be handled with extreme care. this shit rears up from time to time and it takes me out of the game for a week or two but i am not some fragile girl who needs to tip toe around. i'm not going to ever be that girl. i'm not going to be someone who lives in fear of tripping on a crack in the sidewalk. today, something as simple as that could in fact take me out in a major way. that's the truth. i can hardly move right now. but i'm not going to live in fear of it. i need to get to the bottom of this and find a long-term solution. the idea of surgery scares the shit out of me. my father is a quadriplegic and the idea of someone cutting open my back and scooting my spinal column to the side so they can clip the end of my sciatic nerve is a horribly scary idea. i'm not even sure i'm a candidate for it. i need to have an MRI and find out what's really going on inside my body.
things change in an instant, guys. these moments always remind me of the fact that if there's something you really want to do in life, better find a way to do it. i was pulling my fucking shoe off. i wasn't being a daredevil to any degree. you can be going along just fine, feeling invincible and like you've got all the time in the world to waste on bullshit... then a tiny little thing sweeps in and changes the score entirely. in these moments, i'm so thankful that i created opportunities for travel in my life. i'm thankful that i have this laptop so i can write and reach out. i'm thankful for every moment of friendship, every opportunity i've taken to dance and laugh.
even these moments are good teachers.
even these moments have led to beauty.
these moments, more than others, lead me straight to art.
i'll try to remind myself of all this later when i'm crying to myself about how unfair this shit is.