All Drugged Up and No Where to Go

Sorry for the long absence.

Where have I been? Lounging on some forgotten shore of a desert island? Sipping tea in an underground cave with the leaders of the free world during “fire drill”? A hostage to the finest minds of our time, being poked with a pin until I reveal my secrets?

No, oh no. Not this time.

My back, in a surge of creativity, has spawned, not one but two disk bulges. Why you ask? I have no idea. I saw three separate medical professionals and was told, and I quote ‘Wow, you don’t see that every day.” Now if I had a cream puff for ever time I’ve heard that from someone in the medical community I’d be very fat and would be on my way to a new career, but as it is I am left with the sad fact that my body has a complete mind of its own and no one can quite figure it out. That’s right. I have two brains. Which is odd because I can’t seem to access either one. Darn pin number.

I have been flat on my back for almost a week now drifting in and out of a drug induced haze; an oddly dreamless but persistent fog. Since I have a bulge in my neck my hands are mostly numb, and the bulge in my lower back leaves my feet tingly so between the two bulges and my meds I have the strange sensation that I am not actually touching anything but merely floating above the ground. All the thrills and chills of an out of body experience with out having to leave home.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, my husband has been in charge of rounding up the herd every morning. I often come to the surface of my reverie in time to hear, “He’s touching me!”, “I don’t WANT to!” and “We do not feed chocolate to the babies!”. It isn’t odd that I hear this so clearly, we’ve received calls from the US asking us to “pipe down, or the soft wood lumber agreement will really go in the toilet. We mean it.” We are taking these calls very seriously. No matter what the Yanks may say, he is doing a great job. Each and every one of the children remain fed, clothed and as yet unmaimed ... well there’s no permanent damage, at least none we can see. Which is a feat for any soul. He has also managed to hold down his job. And I have yet to find him hiding in the closet mumbling to himself and chewing his hand. A good sign. We’ve also had a lot of help recently from the Church Ladies who have kindly brought us supper and even popped in to watch the kiddies from time to time. Brave souls.

So, to sum up, this is what we’re looking at:

Another couple weeks of back pain, during which time I will be fully drugged up and walking like a Neanderthal

A few rounds of Rehab after which I will emerge from the ring like Rocky, beaten, but still able to punch the air, weakly, with one fist.

Our house will complete its transformation into a Jurassic Jungle, this time, babies will rule the universe

Then ... we’ll have Christmas! (Or Easter, whichever comes first.)

Wish us Luck.