Pain in the neck

It's no secret I spend a lot of time at various ERs around the country with all these kids. We've had 5 broken bones (3 arms, 1 finger, and 1 toe), two sets of stitches, and one encounter with some face glue. There was also the near broken bones (twice) and the to-this-day unexplained body rash that I'm thinking was some type of allergy to Korea in general. I'm not going to count the fever/ear infections or anything like that because, well, I've blocked a lot of them out. So, needless to say, I'm some kind of expert at knowing exactly just what to do to jump to the front of the line and drastically cut into the amount of time spent waiting around.

The top two ways to jump to the front of the line are:
1. Go into the ER covered in blood, holding a child that is covered in blood, wrapped in a towel that is covered in blood, and be screaming. I cannot even guess how many people we jumped ahead of in Hawaii that time when I did that.
2. Go into the ER holding a child who has an obvious bone deformity, like, say, having a wrist bone where NO ONE should have a wrist bone. This worked one time in Arizona and one time in Georgia.

Saturday night Scott had to take me to the ER. I would like to preface this entire story with I AM NEVER SICK. I never get allergies. I never get colds. I never get stomach viruses. I leave that up to all the sicklies I live with. I do, however, get sick when I'm pregnant. Terribly, violently sick. And now that that's taken care of, KNOCK ON WOOD, I don't plan on being sick anymore.

So. Saturday. Well, it all started when I said I was going to take a shower and Scott followed me upstairs, like he always does, JUST IN CASE I'M JOKING when I tell him to leave me alone and play with the four kids we already have that are all his fault. And of course the AFN movie channel had some crap movie on, and it just sucks you into it, so instead of taking a shower I decided to watch the movie, and I laid down on the bed and one of our bajillion remotes was right under my back. So when I tried to reach for it I felt a little twinge.

And everything was a-okay until about an hour later, when we were trying to leave for Owen's baseball game, and he had no idea where his cleats were. So I came bouncing into my room and dropped down onto my hands and knees to look under the bed and you know what? I couldn't get back up. And I couldn't move my neck. So I whined for a minute, then somehow got back downstairs and told Scott Hey, you know what? I just really hurt my neck. And Scott was like Whatever, go get in the car, we're going to be late.

So while we were at the game my neck got stiffer and my shoulder started to hurt a little and I started to whine more. After the game Scott and I had to go to the commissary because we had no groceries. We had no groceries because I usually try to go on Friday, but Saturday morning the people in charge of the all the electricity here decided to shut all the power off from midnight to 6am. I handled the commissary beautifully, so I mistakenly thought I was okay. Plus, whenever I started to mention that my neck or shoulder hurt, Mr. Compassionate would roll his eyes and tell me for God's sake to just put the loaf of bread down if it was too much for me to handle. When we got back from the commissary we decided to walk over to the electronics market.

There are several reasons I thought this was a good idea. Firstly, I don't know if you know, but Friday I went to get my hair done and while I was gone Owen smashed my laptop. And guess what was on my laptop? My bodystep music. Yes. The music I need June 1st when I start teaching bodystep to all the soldiers during PT. So I really, really need that music off the hard drive. Secondly, I seemed to be able to walk fine, it was just sitting that was causing me pain. Thirdly, it was supposed to rain the first half of the week, plus it'd just be me and Skylar, and she sucks the fun out of EVERYTHING so I wanted Scott to go with me.

Well, we got over there and the guy who knows all about MACs was closed, which figures, so we kind of walked around a little bit looking at all the crap they have spread out all over the streets over there and then turned around to come back. And while I was walking fine, I was not able to really move my head side to side or up and down, which wasn't a problem until I stepped kind of half on-half off a curb.

I wish I could tell you that I handled the trip with grace, that in one fluid move I caught myself and just went along my merry way, but no, I didn't. It was ugly. And OH MY GOD it hurt. And it was so bad I immediately started crying from the pain and I think I might have blubbered a little bit about separated ribs and a punctured lung. People, I honestly didn't think I was going to be able to make it back to the gate. With every breath I felt like someone was twisting a knife in my back, and my entire right arm was numb and I couldn't move it.

So things were sucking really really badly, and then, THEN, Skylar peed all over herself. And you know, I'm not sure how that happened, because at one point I'm pretty sure I blacked out from the pain while we were walking, but Scott was yelling and there was crying (but that could have been me I'm not completely sure). After the fact I was told it had something to do with her shoe, that she couldn't get her shoe on, and she was fussing with it and all of a sudden she peed. I mean Gawd. Have you ever in your life?

So we get back home, and I try to sit down and I can't, because it hurts so badly, and I'm crying, and the kids are freaking out because Mama is hurt, and Scott? Scott is cleaning the kitchen. You know, unloading the dishwasher and getting the house straightened up. AND I'M DYING ON THE LEATHER COUCH. Then, when he realized I was crying uncontrollably he took me to the ER, which brings me to the #3 way you can jump to the beginning of the line at the ER.

#3: Hobble into the ER with your husband and when they ask you "What happened?" look uncomfortably over at your husband and just kind of mumble "I don't know, I just hurt myself." Because you know what they think happened? They think your husband has beat you up, and the reason you can't answer what happened is not because you're embarrassed that you honestly don't know what on earth you did to make the right side of your body st0p working, but because you are afraid to say "My husband beat me up" while he's standing right beside you. Also, when they ask you to rate your pain on a scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being the worst, and you say "Well, as long as I stand very still I'm fine but if I move ever so slightly I'll either throw up or have diarrhea." THAT HELPS TOO.

And I didn't realize the part about the spousal abuse until we were back in the little curtained area, and Scott was of course bored so he was acting like he was going to poke me with his finger, which was making me tense up, hurt more, and call out STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT. Because that's then the nurse came back in immediately and asked me if I ever felt threatened at home and if I wasn't comfortable answering in front of my husband they could make him leave. So, you know, we all got a good laugh out of that one, because no, I don't feel threatened by my husband. Embarrassed? Um. Kind of. On a scale of 1 to 10? How about 19.

The doctor decided it was strained muscles and pinched nerves and here, have some percocet and valium. Which normal people would have probably thought was AWESOME, but I immediately started freaking out, because celebrities take these pills all the time and you know what? THEY DIE. These pills aren't safe, and you can't mix them, and what kind of doctor are you, giving me pills that will kill me? NOBODY EVEN WEIGHED ME. How do you know the correct dosage if no one weighed me? I know how it works people, I OWN STOCK IN EMERGENCY ROOMS. And they assured me, repeatedly, that it would be ok, that they were safe to take together, or apart, or however I wanted to take them, and I shouldn't worry about it. And I must not have looked convinced, because then the nurse told Scott he might want to start out with two valium, that it might help EVERYONE get some sleep. And I was still arguing when Scott drug me out of there; I was still double and triple checking exactly how to safely administer the narcotic drugs. BUT I TOOK SOME ADVIL THREE HOURS AGO. Did you count that? Nobody asked me about that. CAN YOU MIX IT WITH ADVIL?

And I'm pretty sure the nurse and doctor think I'm crazy. And I'm also pretty sure if I went back in claiming spousal abuse they would probably side with Scott.