[img]958|left|Alex Campbell||no_popup[/img]Dateline Boston — True story: I have occasional lower back pain. It’s been bad in the past; I’ve stayed home a day or two, but nothing compares to the ordeal I went through a few days ago.
For three days, I had to roll out of bed rather than sit up and get out. Not great, but I just got on the floor and did my back exercises. On this particular day, I went through my routine, thinking I was fine. I went to work at 8:30. At 9, I took 2 Ibuprofen. By 10, I could hardly move without pain. I called my chiropractor, but he wasn’t in. Next, I spoke to my massage therapist. I left work early and got a localized massage, which felt good. M.T. hit the exact spot where the pain was. I thought that would do it. Turns out, not so much. She had to help me off the table and tie my shoes. I walked home very slowly, making strange grunting noises and cursing out loud. I warned the two wild turkeys that hang out near our house they’d better not mess with me and my bad back. They listened. Smart turkeys.
What Do I Stand for?
I went into my bedroom and slept until my S.O. came home from an errand (Thank goodness he happened to be working from home that day). When I woke up, I could hardly move. I thought maybe standing up and walking would help, so S.O. assisted me. After I stood up for a minute, S.O. cracked a joke. I laughed. Bad idea. My back seized. I started to feel like I was going to pass out. I had to lie back down.
The pain got worse — I started sobbing. I called my doctor’s office, hoping they would prescribe me a muscle relaxant over the phone. The nurse said I could come to Urgent Care. I told her I couldn’t move. She responded by telling me I could call 9-1-1. I was so out of it, I blurted, “Will they take me to the hospital?” She curtly replied, “Of course!” I hung up with her and told S.O. to call 9-1-1. He took a deep breath and dialed.
A few minutes later, two women and a few men from the ambulance and police department came to our apartment. They discussed how to get me out. I was given the choice of a backboard or a chair. I chose the board. They carefully rolled me onto the board and strapped me in with my arms across my chest. I felt like I was in a coffin. Incredibly, they stood me up in order to maneuver me out. I didn’t have my shoes on, only socks and pajamas. I mumbled something about a coat. One guy said they were just gonna take me, which they did. S.O. followed along with my coat, phone, wallet, and got in the front of the ambulance.
Gaining Speed
The ride from our front door, down three stairs and into the ambulance was, as I told the EMT, “like a Disneyland ride from hell.” I cackled and whooped the whole time as I was jostled about. EMT said I was the first person she ever had seen who laughed with anxiety. Usually people hyperventilate. Not me; when I get really nervous, I alternate between cursing and cracking jokes. Lovely.
We were slowed down on our way to the hospital by snow mounds, potholes, and our neighbors, the turkeys. Our feathered friends weren’t fazed at all by the sirens. They just strutted down the street, pleased as punch. Dumb turkeys.
We finally passed them and made it to the emergency room.
Next up, the hospital.
Ms. Campbell may be contacted at snobbyblog@gmail.com
