Buuuuut... all things being relative,I gotta' do my little whining routine and get it out of the way.
I've got all these pretty fabrics waiting to be turned into aprons and low and behold the workload (or my own carelessness) finally caught up with me.
I'm not complaining, mind you. Oh, no, not me. But Super Husband is "Sick-And-Tired-Of-Hearing-About-It", so it's your turn now.
This will sound silly, but what's happened is I have a "repetitive motion injury". Whaaaaaat???? Uggch. Sounds easy enough to get out of the way... but no... I have done quite the number on myself.
About two weeks ago, I woke up with numb fingers, which isn't unusual. I do every day (carpal tunnel, don't we all have that?). But that day, on the ring finger and pinky of my left hand it didn't go away. Still hasn't. Tingle, tingle as I type away. Must type with right hand.
Now, most things, I'll ignore. In fact, it's my habit to get on Web MD and I look up things it might be. Then I find the most benign possibility and decide that's what it is. My Plan is to Forge Ahead in Bissful Denial. (Note: this never applies to my kids and dogs, them I drag to the doctor on the first sign of trouble. Super Huband is on his own, because he's impossible to drag.)
But my plan did not work this time. Web MD didn't quite let me get away with it. Numb fingers means "go to doctor". Phooey!
Don't I have better things to do with my time?
Apparently not. Because it turns out I've done a little damage to Miss Elbow, hand, wrist, neck et al. And if you touch that funny bone area it sends me straight to the moon. And I mean just slightly touch. Not tap, not knock. Lightly touch and there I go...Zing-diddy-zing.
This means a bunch of trips to physical therapy (which, btw, are not seeming to work) and possibly a trip to Scary Doctor with shots in the elbow. Or worse, the neck, which is apparently where most of this mess started in the first place.
Ugggch! This is all very unappealing.
Honestly, I've never had anything that stopped me from doing the things I need to and want to do (aside from little surgeries here and there). I'm very fotunate. So, this is causing me some distress. I realize I'm almost 39 years old, but it really feels like high school was about a week ago. So, this just seems down right silly. I couldn't have repeated a motion enough to injure myself. I'm just 18... errr 38 years old. Not enough time to do that.
There it is, folks, my whining quota for the year has been met. No more! And Pretty Lady in Waiting Fabrics, I'm going to find a way to get you made into aprons, with or without me.
PS... On a funny note... To sleep, I have to wear this great big splint on my arm... along with a wrist brace on each hand because it apparently isn't good to wake up with numb hands... And to top my lovely outfit off, because I grind my teeth, the dentist has me wearing a mouth guard. Oh, and because it made me laugh, I decided to wear old sweat socks to bed too. Really. It's a sight to behold.