But I did anyway, because my body is an ungrateful brat.
I woke from a nap yesterday to find that I could not move. My lower back and butt were seizing so painfully that I could barely make it to the door without crying. Vicodin did not help. Ibuprofen did not help. Sleep did not help. My mom (long distance) suggested that I try to ride out the night and go to urgent care today if things didn't improve.
My RA, however, did not agree with this. She came by to check on me and bring me some alcohol (which also did not help), and upon seeing my condition, told me that if I did not come quietly she would call an ambulance. The other RA and two of the girls came with us, which was really awesome of them.
So we got to the ER, and I only had to wait maybe five minutes before being taken to the back--I didn't even have to go through triage. Audrey was even nice enough to come back there and sit with me. In the end, the doc determined it to be the Muscle Spasm from Hell, and shot me full of IV anti-inflammatories. She also gave me a couple prescriptions, and when I didn't have the money to cover them, Audrey was nice enough to pick them up for me and let me pay her back Monday.
So now I'm flat on my stomach in bed, watching Animal Planet and surfing the net from my laptop. Any plans for the weekend? Gone baby gone. Even after a long hot shower, a long session with a heating pad, and a muscle relaxer, it hurts to even shift position. And this could take weeks to resolve. My five-hour bus ride home next Saturday is really gonna suck.
And this is capping off a month that's included strained hips, the flu of doom, money troubles, midterm stress, and my mother having yet another surgery.
Send BPAL and alcohol, pls. I may not survive March otherwise.