Ah life, you are hilarious. I was having a wonderful Monday: wrote a blog post, did some ground work for Short Story Day South '12 and even chipped away at my ms. No, my arms (yes, we're having trouble with both now, although left still much better than right) have not made a miraculous recovery - but for me!, this was a good day.
Then I went to school to fetch my children.
We all make mistakes.
Children were happy to see me, one grabbed my left index finger just so, squeezed and yanked in a manner probably impossible to replicate and - ouch.
I was sore. As mentioned above, left wrist has had some problems, so I assumed it was simply touchy about being yanked on.
I wished fellow parents good day. I had a brief chat with a child's teacher. I calmly got children into car. I drove off to swim lessons and...
My fingers began to tingle. It traveled up the entire arm into shoulder. I started to feel nauseated. By the time I reach swim lessons (6min drive?) I was ready to throw up, my arm was both in pain, yet I couldn't really feel it - and whoa. Began to panic that I'd really damaged something.
Where I shoved my children at the swim teacher and began phoning various people for help. Then I ended up spending the rest of the afternoon in the physio's office.
Apparently (and I am no doctor) it is just a freak thing, managed to upset a nerve, which alerted some defense response and my body basically freaked out over something that was incredibly minor. Unfortunately, the nerves freaking out upset the muscle system, which decided we needed to fight - so they started tensing up ready to battle. This helped those headaches right along, and gave me a very sore arm. One that even when all was said and done, still didn't want to type. It was too tired. It had a day.
Ridiculous.
But true.
So I felt like utter crap - ill, sore, missing sensation in my entire arm - yet actually fine. There is no damage. One simply needs to relax. Oh yes, this is common enough there is reading material on the subject. It suggests things like candle lit dinners, reading poetry, baths...
Yes, because when I'm dizzy and want to hurl I'm all over that poetry.
?
But physio kept poking me, then having me rest, then poked again and rest (while focusing on important breathing technique) and so on until I could sit up without risking losing my lunch and actually feel my fingers.
Thus, since Monday evening, I've been spending my fine time trying to chill while sort of keeping up with the rest of my life. The loser in all of this is my poor dog, Orwell. Because while I am supposed to keep walking (a relaxing activity) there are no arms left willing to hold a lead.
Dog is not amused. Pulling sad faces at every opportunity.
Fellow walkers yesterday were also not amused, worried that 'The dog lady' (yes, I was called that) had something bad happen to her dog.
Dog is fine. Just pathetic.
Dog will be walking tomorrow should recovery continue to progress as nicely as it has.