Blinding pain. It’s a real thing. “Blinding pain occurs when neuro-connectors in your brain are overloaded with information from the site of your pain – the ground zero, if you will – causing ocular function to temporarily disable.” – Dr. Imnot Rheal
Okay, so that quote’s a fake (I had you going, didn’t I?). But holy crap on a craker, blinding pain?
See Myndi getting ready to go the zoo (why do bad things always happen on my way to the zoo?). See Myndi making healthy, nutritious lunches for her and her daughters. See Myndi reach for the carrots in the bottom drawer in the fridge.
ENTER BLINDING PAIN HERE.
See Myndi lurch forward, bang head on upper shelf of fridge, and topple to the floor. Hear Myndi say things that would have made her mother’s Sailoresque vocabulary seem modest. See Myndi lying on the floor wishing for one of those “Help! I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!” necklace-buttons that the retirement-home set are so wild about.
I’m writing this post lying flat on my back on the floor (it’s an awkward scene, I promise), trying to ease the pain with acetaminophen and ibuprofen (INTERESTING UPDATE: and this cute little thing called a TENS unit that, if turned up too high will zap the shiza out of my back – HOLY FREAKING OUCH) and of course, TLC from the Hubster. Hopefully, in the two weeks between writing it and posting it, my back will have chilled the hell out.
*DISAPPOINTING UPDATE. MY BACK HAS NOT CHILLED THE HELL OUT. TURNS OUT TORN LIGAMENTS IN YOUR SPINE LIKE TO TAKE THEIR SWEET BIPPY TIME HEALING. EFFING BLARRRRRRG.*
If not, well…
…I’m going to give up carrots. And start writing instruction manuals on how to age in the most ungraceful manner possible.
…and possibly a memoir with a chapter wholly devoted to the Terrible Awful No-Good Idea that is Going To The Zoo.
Now tell me your Best Of! I want to hear about your little pops of surprise as you age. ‘Cause, you know, misery loves company, and all that crap.