I’m Dying Here

I’m not trying to kill myself. Really, I’m not. But my body seems to think I have other intentions.

After spraining my hip last week on the slick preschool floor, I’ve been in a race against time to get better. I’m sitting on ice, popping my oxycodone, resting as much as physically possible with two children running around the house, and feeling extremely guilty about my inability to help my hubby do the daily chores.

But, alas, it is not meant to be.

I drug myself to work yesterday and it suddenly became very apparent to me just how much I do in the morning: get up, shower, dressed, put on makeup, make breakfast, make my decaf pumpkin spice latte, eat breakfast, pack lunches, get kids teeth brushed (hubby got them up, dressed and fed), get kids shoes and coats on, get everyone in the car, drive 45 minutes in traffic, get kids and their stuff out of the car, walk to each kids’ classroom, take out lunches and put in the fridges, get kids to put their stuff in their cubbies and wash their hands, go back to the car, drive to my office, get out, walk across the lot, down stairs and through two heavy doors to my office, and finally sit down.

Other than the eating breakfast and driving, I’m doing all of this while on crutches.

Needless to say, I was aching by the time I got to work and crying for my mommy by 1 p.m. because I’d not taken the narcotics due to fear of driving with my children while taking them. I’d thought Tylenol and ibuprofen would do the trick.

I am a sad, pathetic little rabbit.

Because my drugs were very low and my doctor appointment wasn’t scheduled until Thursday, I called the doctor office and requested a refill. Sadly, and I expected this, since this is a new doctor for me because I had to change healthcare plans with the new job, they didn’t know me from your average lying drug addicted hypochondriac so they wanted me to come in before they determined I could have more drugs.

I picked up the kids, hauled it out to my hubby’s work, dropped them off with him, then went to the doctor’s office. I met with a wonderful doctor who noticed right away that I was not the afore mentioned psycho and was in fact a few moments away from passing out from the pain. She refilled my prescription and sent in a request to the orthopedic staff to review my file with any advice for me. Then they gave me a flu shot since I was already there and it was covered.

Note to self: shot in arm when using crutches full time = stupid idea. Just what I needed, more aching pain.

By the time I got home I was hurting so bad I must have moved funny because I then pulled the last muscle in my hip that had been OK up to this point, my hamstring.

That was it. I could no longer really move at all on the crutches. I went to bed, after taking my drugs, and cried myself to sleep. But woke up shortly after and many times during the night because I hurt so bad.

Today I got up, got dressed very slowly and painfully, got half way through putting on makeup when I realized there was no way in hell I could do this again. I called into work “mostly dead,” made a desperate call to the local daycare place that luckily had an opening today, and kissed everyone goodbye as Hubby took the kids to the childcare place on his way to work. Bye bye $100 for childcare.

I’ve been on ice, ibuprofen, and oxycodone with an ace bandage around my leg now all day. I’m not feeling much better. I hope my mom can come help tomorrow to save me $100. I can’t imagine getting to work or even trying to care for the kids feeling like this.

Anyone ever have this kind of muscle injury before? Any advice other than what I’m doing? Anyone want to donate to the childcare fund?

Tagged as: injury