On Friday afternoon I blithely wrote something about overcompensating with my left side for my right-side rib that still hurts from the accident. That was about 2 hours before I got hit by the figurative truck and spent most of the rest of the weekend in bed with a hotpad. I first lay down right about dinner-time with the hotpad, and a few hours later idly looked up "symptoms of a heart attack" on the internet. Big mistake. I had most of them, except the sweating and the nausea. Sharp pain up my back, radiating up the side of my neck and down the inside of my left arm. Dull pain in front. The hotpad wasn't going to warm up the muscles that hurt like heck going through the inside of me from front to back (or back to front).
Soo - it was a long, scary night Friday. I didn't think it was likely that I was having a heart attack. More likely a stress thing (think Jack Nicholson in that movie with Diane Keaton where they're both "old"), or pulled muscles from the accident. I went to urgent care Saturday because I wanted to rule it out though - and they wouldn't. Rule it out, that is. The EKG was OK, but my pulse and heart rate were elevated. Of course! Duh! I'm stressed! They wanted me to go to the ER, but said I could drive myself, thankfully. So I did drive myself. Home. I was pretty sure, by that point, that it would be hours of very expensive tests to tell me that I have some pulled muscles.
Finally yesterday morning I began to feel a little more normal. It's been a long time of feeling crappy one way or another (it started with plantar fasciitis from firefighter training in October, which had just begun to lessen), so I had started to long for the days when I feel the age that my body is. Not feel twenty years older. I don't feel good now. Not at all. I still feel like crap. But the way the pain feels now, I'll bet it was (and is) a direct result of the accident, like whiplash or whatever. Not an indirect result of me favoring my right side as I had thought. Surprised it took a week to show up. Hello pain.
That Friday night was kindof a wakeup call. To start treating my body better, get in better shape, etc, etc. Both of my mother's parents died young-ish, something I remembered Friday night.
Bad stuff comes in waves. Maggie sliced one of her foot pads yesterday. I had to physically force her to not lick it overnight (an ace bandage and one of Desmond's pain pills helped! And I held her head away from her leg all night as we sortof slept.) until I could get her to the vet today. It's too big a wound to heal with pressure, and she is at the vet now for sedation and stitching. Pow! Money I was hoping not to have to spend.
It's so weird that the only times Maggie has hurt herself have been times when I was feeling extremely bad myself. Maybe Maggie is super sensitive, or maybe it's like a karma thing. My normal good luck deserts me, and has me hunkered down in a foxhole looking to the left and to the right. "What's next?" "Where's the next pow coming from?" And come, they do. Good thing it's not very often!
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