I have had a week to contemplate this. A week in which I have howled when trying to dress myself and whimpered when rolling over in bed. If I can’t get my son to pull me out of a chair, I have to take a couple of breaths before I tackle it for myself.
As for getting into and out of the car – do you have any idea what that twisting motion can do it you? I rode to work on a scooter for a couple of days, as sitting upright as though riding a kitchen chair was preferable to the slouched position in the car – once you had actually levered yourself into it.
Wearing trousers is a problem, and even threading feet into knickers is a challenge. I just throw food at the cats now – I can’t bend over to nicely dollop food in the bowls. They seem to cope.
It’s frustrating when I thought that I was going to do so much this weekend. Finish the weeding for a start and perhaps plant some tomatoes. I can crawl around on my knees, but how will I get up afterwards? I had to drive up to the Barossa Valley today to conduct a wedding ceremony. At least I do that standing up but unwinding myself after an hour travelling in the car was not a pretty sight. Didn’t feel good either.
Putting the lawnmower into the boot of my car was probably not the smartest thing, but trying to lift it on my own with a convoluted lift and twist action defied not smart. It feels as though my sacroiliac joint will never be the same again. Yeah I know. Stupidity.