I called for a PT appointment. And then went home. At 12:30 yesterday. And rested – well, played on the laptop and watched TV and -coup of all coups – got Gene to pick up dinner. And it was even someplace where he couldn’t just go thrugh the drive thru. (My math suggests that 100 Elaine goes through the drive-thru is equal to 1 Gene gets out of the car to procure delicious Chinese food for his loving, sick wife).
So yeah…I called for the appointment – FINALLY – and instantly I’m better.
Note to self: Watching Love Actually for the 100th time (I love having 17 HBOs!), the romantic ending with Colin Firth and the Romanian chick. Must find theater showing the Colin Firth 3-way movie. Mmmmm.
Seriously, I’m doing much better. I wish I’d called for PT the day after I strained my back. Now the damned therapist will think I’m a crackhead. I wish she could have seen me crawling around the house!