Old age ain’t fer sissies

Well, I know I really shouldn’t consider myself old.  I’m 53 — that’s the new 30, right?  So why do I feel like I’m 83?  I just got back to the office from the chiropractor.  He’s adjusted me about as far as he can go — says the rest is nerve pain, which means it is that disc, now pressing on the left side instead of the right or, I guess, pressing on both simultaneously.  So I guess I’ll wait to hear from the neurosurgeon.  In the meanwhile, I need to get back in to see my regular doc because I’m just about out of pain pills.  I can’t take any NSAIDs due to the bypass.  I do have my little EMS device with me, so I’ll be wandering around the office with a wire sticking out of my pants all day.  Do I care?  Heck no — I need some relief!

I did manage to load a quilt this weekend.  I went slow and did my best not to hurt myself.  Did pretty well actually.  I do so much better when I’m standing, and there’s something about having quilting fabric between my fingers that seems to soothe me.  If only I didn’t need this dang day job to pay the bills.  Yes, I know if wishes were horses — ouch!  No riding for me today!