Laid Up

I’m hoping to stay in bed today, friends. The pressure systems currently swirling around my little neck of the woods are causing an old friend of mine to make itself known. A friend I have affectionately (or maybe not so affectionately) tagged my “Granny hip”. No offense to grannies.

When I was 15 I was in a car accident. I was in the rear passenger seat, and the other car walloped into us from that side. My body was thrown into the arm of the captain’s chair I was sitting in (good ol’ peach Ford Windstar... you did not deserve your fate), and the rest, as they say, is history. The doctor at the ER told me I had damaged my sciatic nerve, and, nerves not being of a regenerative nature, I was stuck with it. Lucky me. Most of the time, my particular brand of sciatica is a minor annoyance- except during pregnancy. Then it caused a collapse and extensive physical therapy, but that's a different story. The nerve isn't pinched, just bruised beyond healing. But that comes with its own set of issues. Such as, weather. It’s almost like rheumatism (do people even use that word anymore? I read too many old books). So when Jeremy came home yesterday and informed me, as I hobbled around the kitchen with my granny hip, that there was a slight warm front coming through, I said, “Well that explains a lot.”

So today, instead of hobbling, I want to stay in bed. The ache is bad enough today that even rolling over is painful, heating pad or no. I’ve got my bedroom door wide open where I can see the girls having a Hello Kitty tea party complete with Star Wars figurines and Mega Bloks. I don’t think I’ll inform Ashton that they’re playing with his “guys” while he’s at school (Side note: Girls are so much more versatile than boys. Ashton, home alone, would never think to incorporate some of the girls’ toys into his playing. No way. Just an observation). Jeremy is going to bring me home some lunch after sufficient whining on my part. He takes granny hip seriously. Well... mostly.

So that’s how my day is. I’m not complaining- staying in bed is a luxury, as you’ve heard me say before. Even accompanied by a granny hip.