A lock down like this makes me re-evaluate the past week and note the steps leading up to my immobility. A week ago, I spent Tuesday fasting in preparation for a colonoscopy. Woo hoo, good times. I'm thankful to say that no major problems surfaced from this procedure that confounds the digestive system. Just a note to those who've never had the pleasure of the big C, they blow air into you and you spend several days waiting for all of it to escape. Got the picture?
Last Thursday I logged into my work email to try and figure out how to manage the incredible volume of work headed my way this month. Alas, every single class rescheduled and my last week in May went from 4 training classes to none. Maybe it's good that all of them rescheduled, but that's a blow to the old pocketbook in May.
Friday found me attending my granddaughter's first dance recital. She's three. I laughed until tears streamed down my face watching her antics on stage. She remembered some of the dance, but what she didn't know she improvised. There's always one little ballerina that tickles the audience's funny bone, and my little one claimed that right for the night. It brought back memories of my own recitals - something I considered blogging about - but that will have to wait.
Saturday, after my granddaughter who spent the night with us left with her Mommy, I traveled to a very long Board of Directors meeting in Columbia for SCWW(South Carolina Writers' Workshop) where we hashed over all of the details involved with the operations of the statewide organization (myscww.org). By the time I got home, my bones nearly wept with exhaustion and the need for rest.
Alas, no rest for the weary as I found myself once again caring for my granddaughter. As tired as I was, I knew a three-year old really shouldn't attend a funeral where people wail in inconsolable grief.
So, we come to 8:15 Sunday evening before I manage any time to rest. I asked my husband that night, "It's time for the weekend right?"
Monday I met my Mom for lunch. She was suffering from vertigo and couldn't drive home from a medical appointment yet. Even though I hadn't planned on taking an early lunch, when your Mom needs you, you go. I picked her up and encouraged her to eat, hoping the lunch would give her the ability to make the thirty mile trip home. That day she looked her age, nearing eighty. And I worried.
Monday night, it seems that the big C from earlier in the week wasn't done with me yet, so I lay flat on the couch with an ice pack on my stomach. (Maybe my lunch added to this one, but who knows?) Although I rarely lie down while watching TV, the few times I have didn't result in a crick in the neck before ... but check out my week. I think my neck said, "Enough is enough!"
That's my story. Time to ice again.