Torticollis - not nearly as classy as it sounds.

Owwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwie. There is never a dull moment in the life of moi. This morning was not any different - one more reason to hate Mondays.

I woke up with a sharp pain going up my arm. Thinking "what the eff!?" I went to get up and quickly realized that my arm was hurting because my neck was a ticking time bomb of pain and misery. I thought I'd just roll around in bed and try to loosen up the tight muscles. It's 7:30 am, I still have plenty of time to shake this off and get to work on time. I fell back asleep until approximately 8am and it only made things worst. I couldn't even move around in bed, I had to toss the pillow to rest my head directly on the mattress and stretch out my neck. I still had a splitting headache and paralyzing pain down my neck and into my shoulder.

Js got me one of those microwavable heat cushion-bag things and I rest that on my neck for a bit as I tried to get a hold of someone to cover my shift. I had to call my boss and let her know so she took care of most of it - bless her little heart. I quickly realized that I would have to go to the ER to at least get some medication and a doctor's note for the day today. That's when the fun began.

I attempted to get up 4 different ways before I asked Js to just pull on my hands so I could sit up. It hurt like all shit but it worked. Do you think my allergies would have given me the day off considering my predicament? No dice. Sneezing while trying not to move your head just hurts more.

Me : Can you get me my bra?
Him : Where is it?
Me : I don't know.
Him : Please be more specific...
Me : Somewhere in the room... on the floor?!
Him : Here.
Me : ... ... can you get me underwear?!
Him : *mumbles*
Me : Okay thanks, you can go now.

Trying to salvage what was left of my dignity I thought : I can fucking do this. I can put on my damn clothes, it can't hurt that much. I just have to be smart about it.

Ten minutes later, sitting on the edge of the bed with my underwear around my knees, my bra failing at doing anything it's supposed to... I was tempted to throw my iota of dignity out the window but that would require too much movement so I left it there, in a small pile by my feet.

Me : Baaaaaaaaabe?!
Him : What?!
Me : I need your help.
Him : Doing what? *comes up the stairs*
Me : ... ... *small-cry-face*
Him : *walks in* ... well that didn't go over very well, didn't it!?
Me : No. *sob*

He helped me get dressed, reached for my clothes as I attempted not to scream out bloody murder with every movement.

Me : You'll need to brush my hair.
Him : Hum, no. I don't know how.
Me : What do you mean you don't know how? You just brush.
Him : How?
Me : Just... brush.
Him : *blink* I feel like we're 70 years old.
Me : I guess I can just put a hair clip for now...

To stop him from seeing his life with me flash before his eyes and reconsider the whole wedding thing, I give up. So not only do I look like shit, I feel like shit. I'm wearing only clothes I could point to, my hair is a cottony mess due to my tossing and turning and I don't even want to dare trying to get into the shower. I'll bathe when I can do it on my own thank you very much.

Now, for the teeth brushing adventure. I had to brush my teeth with my left hand so I feel like I cleaned a third of my teeth. It took me a while to figure out the spitting thing - I worked out a very unclassy system and now, it seems, there is toothpaste everywhere. Take sip of water from cup, rinse, spit in cup, rinse cup, try to ignore mocking boyfriend, repeat.


We made our way to the ER  and I got a prescription and some work restrictions. I can't lift, push or pull anything over 2 kilos - said the pretty pretty doctor with an accent. We went to Wal-Mart to get the pills and picked up a season of The Office for my entertainment today. I'm lucky it's Js' day off (he's not!) because he's home to take care of me. By "taking care" I mean - fluffing my pillow and watching me drool as I sleep away the pain.