For the past week, I’ve been battling severe back pain, which will presumably disappear (at least for a while) on Friday, when I get my bilateral steroid back injection. The pain makes me feel like an old, stooped, withered great-great-grandmother — the kind whose voice is a quavering whine. Okay, maybe my body is slightly — uh — well, sort of old-ish, maybe, but my ravishing beauty is barely — er — well, never mind.
Along with the pain (actually, the “pain” is controlled pretty well by pills) goes a general feeling of weakness in the spine and legs, and that leads to a sense of exhaustion which is as much mental as physical, leading to depression (which I’m inclined to anyway), not intense, but enough to make it very hard to convince myself that there’s anything worth getting out of bed for. Some days are better than other days.
One of the things that I have let drop, temporarily, due to this generally icky state of mind, is Caring Bridge. After the injection Friday, I’ll feel a return of meaning and intent and interest (I hope and believe), and I’ll sit down and continue communicating. Until then, I ask you to understand and be patient — as I have so often — and I send you thanks and blessings.
See you this weekend. Don’t forget the Oscars (those who loathe them or couldn’t care less ignore this) on Sunday. My family members are for the Black Swan and the King’s Speech.
Goodnight. Sleep Well.
Love from me. Ann.