I have often wished that when my back is out of place or experiencing a pinched nerve that I had some great excuse as to why I’m completely incapacitated for the following 72 hours. Like, say, “I slipped off a cliff and landed on my back” or “I was completing a triple-twisting double back layout and misjudged the landing.”
Instead, I end up having to ’fess up to corny truths like “I over-swung at a ball” or “I was brushing my teeth and bent forward too far.” Or this week’s reality: “I was putting groceries in my car.”
Seriously. Somewhere in the middle of placing groceries into the trunk of my car and driving out of Meijer’s parking lot and into my own parking lot, something shifted. And my back felt like it was being stabbed. To death.
That was Saturday. Today is Monday. The stabbing pain? Still occurring. Blast!
Guess I’ll have to sit out of tonight’s volleyball match. And maybe not brush my teeth before bed.