My back went on Sunday morning, before we even left home. I was carrying Grace on my hip doing jobs in the kitchen, as you do and I could feel my lower back start to give way. Calling Matt the Husband to take Grace from me, he carried on what he was doing, reminding me that one time I carried her 'all the way round the garden centre without any trouble'.
Never mind that was four months ago when Grace the sack of potatoes was many pounds lighter.
A comedy scene, my back gave way almost on cue, I'm on my hands and knees in the kitchen, searing pain. And Grace still clinging to my hip while Matt the Husband retracts his neck and asks what he can do to help.
Fast forward till teatime, we're done in A&E. I'm doped up on Valium to relax the muscle spasm, a handful of painkillers with the promise that the old ruptured ligament injury from 16 years ago when I was but a youthful teen has popped again and I'm in for a rough ride. Joy.
I hobbled to bed that night, bent in half like an old man, unable to stand up straight, and slept like a log. Valium is my new best friend. Monday morning and a four hour car ride to Norfolk and I'm more crooked by the time I get there than Salman Butt the Pakistani cricketer. The rest of the week is much the same, the only difference being I ran out of valium and my sleep is more sporadic. Matt the Husband says he knows 'something' that will help me sleep with a wink and a twinkle in his eye. I tell him shagging Fat Bastard from the Austin Powers movies would be more appealing. You get the gist of our week.
Grace is a sweetheart, walking with one hand for support now and surfing the furniture like a pro. This is easy at my parents pad - they have enough chairs in the sitting room to rival an inner city doctors waiting room.
I'm all out of words for now. I've been sat for too long and I need to stand up and stretch out. I'm walking upright again and it's feeling more comfortable. It's a ligament that connects pelvis to spine that's ropey. Lucky me :0)
As for Matt the Husband, he's been kissing arse all week. He's just told me loves me, handed me a bag of Haribos and a can of pop. He knows the way to a womans heart.
"You're a good Husband", I tell him.
"Thank you", he replies. He's relieved to have been forgiven for his part in this injury that stuffed up our week off.
"You haven't seen this blog I'm writing yet". I tell him.
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