1. Went into back spasm Friday night.
2. Spasmed until 2:48 a.m. Saturday morning, despite banging myself on the back in a stupid, and fruitless, attempt to short-circuit the spasm. (Hey, it was 2:48 a.m. and I was desperate. I've already undergone labor once, thankyouverymuch, and that's what a back spasm feels like, without the eventual gift of a new life. I've done it before - spasms, I mean - and it always gets old. Immediately. And pain makes me stupid.)
3. Did I mention I couldn't sleep despite taking one of BB's Xanax - one half of which usually serves to turn me into a drooling sleeping beauty?
4. Finally asked BB for one of his major painkillers, the kind I've rejected taking on many previous occasions, because my own painkillers usually do the job and his? Kind of scare me.
5. Stopped hurting long enough to fall asleep. Which is, of course, when his painkiller and the Xanax finally kicked in together.
6. Slept until 3 p.m.
7. Got up, happy, thinking my back was better. Chatted with husband and son, who'd dropped by.
8. Back started going again. Went back to bed at 5 p.m.
9. Slept until 9 a.m. Sunday.
10. Back was better, but not completely fixed. Still isn't.
11. Watched Dr. Who, Extremis is excellent.
12. Going to watch Attack on Titan, which will probably also be excellent.
13. Will go to bed, with more painkiller in me.
My vacation begins Friday. I can hardly wait.
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