On Getting Older...

My mom is the world's biggest fan of a syndicated radio show out of Birmingham.  She listens to that show all the time.  Because she has a special membership to listen to all their shows all the time.  So what you and I might listen to for free during a commute to work, she pays to listen to while she's NOT commuting to a single, solitary place.

Retirement.  It's a big deal.

Anyway, the hosts are admittedly pretty funny.  A smidge over-the-top redneck-conservative-political for me but they're making a killing being that so clearly it's working.  

The show really centers around them.  Sure, they discuss specific topics but for the most part, they're only discussing said topics to share more about themselves.  They are both getting older and both share a love of food.  They love to talk about all their physical aliments.  Of which, they have plenty.  A love of food and getting older doesn't equal physical superiority.

They say, you know you're old when you injure yourself while sleeping.

So if that's truly the barometer for aging, I have hit it.

Since I woke up yesterday morning minus the ability to turn my head to the left.

At all.

Here's the back story about my neck and shoulders:  In 2003, I was in two car accidents.  Three months apart.  

In the first one, I was rear ended.  Because I chose to YIELD and the guy behind opted to NOT.  He hit me going about 45 miles an hour.  Totaled my little Nissan 200SX.  It was red.  A stick shift.  Two door.  Sunroof.  

Literally, the coolest I have ever been was while driving that car.

I'd gotten it after my sophomore year in college when my blue Dodge Spirit DIED on the way home from Auburn.  

And just to be clear, driving a baby blue Dodge Spirit was possibly the most UNCOOL I ever was.

(That's a serious statement coming from someone who took her latest crossing stitching project to the beach in college.  Not kidding.  I literally sat under the umbrella in my swimsuit and cross stitched.)

(I got a lot done that day, actually.  The completed project is hanging upstairs in the bonus room.) 

After the death of Spirit, Dad took me to the used car lot and let me pick something out.  Within reason.  Within budget.  

And I selected this way-cooler-than-me Nissan.  The only problem was I couldn't drive a manual transmission.  I can only imagine what was going through my dad's brain but, heavens, HE BOUGHT THAT CAR FOR ME.

God bless him.

After purchasing Coolness, Dad took me to the elementary school parking lot where he'd taught me how to drive five years earlier.  

(Only back then, the lessons were given while driving an olive green BOAT.  Might have been a Buick.  No idea.  I just remember it being ginormous.)  

Dad gave me a couple of lessons so, you know, I didn't stall every single time and then said those magical words every daughter should hear at least once in her life...

..."You wanted this thing.  Now figure it out."

And he left me to do just that.

In the foothills of the Rocky Mountains.  

Do you know how hard it is NOT to roll backward in a stick shift on the side of a mountain?

Very.

But I figured it out and to this day, I prefer a good stick shift.  

So when Mr. Genius slammed into me and totaled my ONE COOL THING, I was not thrilled.  Not to mention, ouch.  It took about three days before I realized, hey, wait, this hurts.  And why can't I turn my head.  Or pick up anything.  I suffered through it for several weeks before a doctor sent me to a physical therapist.  

I spent six weeks in therapy.  Because when I first walked in the door, I had no ability to pick up a ONE POUND weight.  

In the meantime, we picked out a new-to-us Honda Accord.  

Y'all.  

It had a drop down holder for my sunglasses.  What more could a car possibly offer????

Pretty sure I felt like I'd arrived.

I had my last physical therapy appointment on a Wednesday.  Thursday, I was in car wreck #2.

Because SURE.

I was driving down this curvy two lane road.  As I rounded a curve, two cars where traveling in the oncoming lanes.  Car one made the HORRIBLE decision to TURN right.  How dare he.  Car two behind him made an even worse decision to try and go around it.  You know, instead of slowing down and patiently waiting for the car in front of him to turn.  

What he apparently didn't realize was ME.  I was there.  In that lane.  

He saw me in time to jerk his wheel.  I jerked mine too and so we only hit on the front side.  But that hit was enough (and it wasn't little in case you were thinking by "hit" I meant "graze."  Because I did not.) to force me into a utility pole.  

That pole I hit square on.

Did you know there's a smoke-like thing that happens when an airbag deploys?

And also the force of that airbag was enough to burn my chin?

Now you know.  You're welcome.

That wreck was worth another six months (maybe nine?) of physical therapy.  

And I got another new-to-me car.  Yup.  It totaled the brand-new-to-me car.

Only now I had the added requirement of the drop down sunglasses holder.  I mean, once you've arrived, there's no real going back.

So it was during physical therapy round two, I learned I would need to stay one step ahead of neck and shoulder pain probably for the rest of my life.  We'd move to Oklahoma shortly after Wreck #2 which gave me time to exercise while I was looking for a job.  And that's when the exercise bug hit me.

I've never really looked back.

To keep myself healthy, I have to do weight baring exercises.  Running counts but really, I need to lift heavy things.  Not always my favorite activity.  Truthfully, because it doesn't burn a whole lot of calories in the moment but the added muscle helps burn more calories all day long.  

Every now and again, inspire of exercising and lifting heavy things, I do something...no real idea what most of the time...and wake up unable to move in some way or another.  So when I woke up yesterday in pain and pretty confident I would be attempting approximately zero left hand turns that day, it wasn't something completely out of the ordinary.

Just not expected.

Since, straight up, I have no idea what I might have done Saturday to aggravate my neck.  It's possible I've simply been holding on to the tension OVERTIRED TODDLER has been causing.  And then driving around for hours at a time so said toddler might nap.  

I mean, it's possible.  

Thankfully, Chris got home around 4 AM Sunday morning.  When Rhys slammed our door open at 6:31 am, I knew two things...

1)  Ouch

2)  Chris needed to sleep.

So I did what any self-respecting mom would do.  Gave him his milk and turned on "Toy Story."

I spent the morning with the heating pad on my neck and shoulders while I let Chris sleep as long as I could stand it.  Aubrey Kate was a little teary about not going to church but hear me when I say, GOD  UNDERSTANDS.  Once Chris woke up (and by that I mean, the kids couldn't stand it anymore and went in to wake him up), I headed to the bed for rest and more heating pad.  

Today, I can move more but I'm still in pain.  We drove a good bit today to visit with friends in a city south of the metroplex.  Good for the kids and good for nap time but awful for my neck.  I'm popping ibuprofen but really, I've seriously considered posting on FB to see if someone has a muscle relaxer.  

"In need of a muscle relaxer.  Will trade for kidney.  Serious inquiries only.  Meet at hospital, like, RIGHT NOW."  

Sigh.

The silver lining is when I'm in bed, the kids come and snuggle with me some.  I love me some snuggles.  

The not-so-silver lining is I suspect this sort of unexpected immobility might happen more frequently as I get older.  Not really sure such things will lead me to make a killing as a syndicated radio show host though.  Drat.