Ouch. That shit hurts.

Thursday night I was giving the boys a bath when I looked at Rob and said, “man my neck hurts.” He lamented that his did too and I replied, “No this is a weird hurt, a big hurt.” By the end of the bath the pain was traveling up toward my ears and by 11:30 at night I could not move my head at all. I suffered through the night and at 4am I gave up and told Rob I needed to go to ER.

Once I arrived at ER I was given an IV and then some Benadryl (they hoped it would help me get some sleep, it did not), some anti nausea medicine and some drug to stop swelling IN CASE my brain was swelling. That drug did help the pressure I was feeling on the top of my head but I still couldn’t move. The IV helped so I had to pee every 15 minutes, which was super awesome. Have you ever tried climbing in and out of a hospital bed when you can’t move your head at all and then try and wipe and flush as you HOPE your aiming the toilet paper in the right direction?

My favorite part was when the nurse asked if I could possibly be pregnant and I had to answer, "well I just had my period on the third and my tubes are tied but I’ve been watching that ridiculous show, I didn’t know I was pregnant, so actually I probably am pregnant and shit this neck pain is probably labor and I swear to God lady if you tell me it’s twins I’ll kill you.  She laughed, I laughed and then we all wondered why in the fuck anyone would put a show like that one TV because I wasn’t the first person to come into ER wondering if the pain of a hang nail was really labor pains.

Finally after the CT scan determined my brain wasn’t blowing up they offered to do a spinal tap. My mind flashed back to the time they did that to my dad, and I’m sorry, he is a big man I remember sitting in front of him watching the look of sheer terror and pain on his face and told the ER doctor that, no thanks, you can keep your big needle I’m just going to go home and hope it goes away! The doctor and my husband were both less then thrilled. That’s fine, as soon as they are getting a needle the size of Texas jammed in their back with out anesthetic then they can talk! It reminded me of the time I had a fallopian tube dye test and the very male doctor told me that it wouldn’t hurt much, it would feel like mild period cramps. WELL MR I’M SO FUCKING SMART AS SOON AS YOU GROW SOME GODDAMN OVARIES, THEN, AND ONLY THEN CAN YOU TELL ME ABOUT “MILD” PERIOD CRAMPS PIECE OF SHIT MOTHER FUCKER.

So yeah, no needle. He sent me home with Percocet, which in my case is a placebo. I have intolerance to that drug. Never does a damn thing for me. I’ll never forget popping about 15 of them in about 4 hours after getting my wisdom teeth pulled wondering when in the hell these things would kick in. They didn’t!

Anyway after two more days of bitching and moaning about the pain I went back to ER. The doctor there looked at my range of motion (I can totally move my head about a half an inch to the left and almost a full inch to the right), he determined that no I don’t have meningitis because I don’t have fever, chills, vomiting so he didn’t try and talk me into a big needle (which at this point the pain in my neck was so bad, the big needle was sounding like a joy ride). Instead he sent me home with some muscle relaxers that were strong enough to knock out a horse. To quote the nurse, “they might make you feel a bit noodley.” This was followed up with a shot of pain meds in my arm (OUCH OUCH OUCH), and a second prescription for 600mg IB Profin. I went home and took my new muscle relaxers and BAMN I was flat on my ass. That shit knocked me way out. They helped a ton. I can now move my head about ¾ of an inch to the left and 1/5 inches to the right. I can kind of nod my head and my ears only hurt a little bit.

The doctor determined it was a stress injury. Makes sense since Thursday was kind of the culmination of all things stressful, i.e. we went to bankruptcy court only to find out that instead of receiving our discharge right away we would have to wait until I submitted page 3 and 5 of our bank statements AKA THE FUCKING BACK SIDE! Yes. I spent almost 3 hours at Kinko’s making copies and it never occurred to me when I put the massive stack of bank statements in the copier that my new bank might actually print on the back side. Fucking awesome! Rob was less then thrilled with me, I was angry because isn’t this fucking over yet, and my attorney just looked at me like I was the ugly cat at the pet shelter that no one would ever buy. Then he looked at my husband and I swear he telepathically said, “dude I’m really sorry you got stuck with this ugly feral cat, but if you’re interested I totally have a hot little tabby out back.”

Aside from that a large majority of last week was spent crying to my husband about various things. The fact that I am pretty sure I swallowed a cow and am now a fat ugly mess. The fact that even though I really want to get healthy again no part of my brain agrees. My brains said, “while being healthy would be fun, eating an entire tub of Thin Mint ice cream would be more fun because then YAY we could be all depressed about that and depression is fun WEEEE LET’S GET SAD!” My heart does not love what my brain has to say. My heart spent a good amount of time telling my husband last week that I hate who I am. I hate the constant battle in my mind. Do right or do wrong? I hate that most often wrong wins and I find myself screaming at my son with a fat slice of cake in one hand and jug of hate juice in the other one. I hate knowing how ugly I’ve become yet not having the cognitive emotion to actually care because if I really cared I wouldn’t eat a box of fig nutons for breakfast and wash it down with a couple of spoonfuls of chocolate frosting.

So, stress. Yes. That could possibly be what’s fucking with my neck.

What else haven’t I told you. Oh. Right. We upped my Lithium to 600 mg. But not before the doctor told me she was upping me to 300 and then wrote the prescription wrong, and then decided after that to just go ahead and change it to 600 with out ever telling me. That was fun. It was also fun when I called the pharmacy and told them to pull their heads out because I was only supposed to take one 300 mg pill a day not one twice a day. Turns out my doctor is the one who should pull her head out. Also after much bitching and moaning she agreed to wean me off Zoloft and next week I get to start Wellbutrin and I swear to God if that medicine makes me gain anymore weight heads will roll. I’m thisclose to ordering some diet pills and a side of crank to lose some weight since obviously my fucking brain can’t understand 3000 CALORIES OF ICE CREAM + NO WORKING OUT = BIG FAT COW! Really it seems like simple math to me!

By the way, if you are one of those 115 pound skinny little bitches who wants to leave a comment about your invisible bullshit love handles save it for someone who gives a fuck and go do another hour of power walking on the treadmill while pretending you aren’t anorexic and that you don’t need just as many crazy pills as me because you’re too goddamn delusional to see that you look fine and that when you complain about your invisible fat to people it just makes them hate you more then they already do. "No seriously Shannon, come feel my invisible love handles," No thanks I’d rather punch you in the face, it’s easier then convincing you, you’re a skinny ass  portion controlled lunatic moron.  So please if you were about to leave a comment like that skip this blog.  Unless you’ve ever dealt with an actual weigh issue like dreading summer because you know wearing skirts mean your thighs will rub together and that causes friction burn, or if your arms have ever waved goodbye a full ten minutes after you stopped waving because you are so fucking fat your upper arms have little wings attached to them making you wonder if you are going to take off in flight any minute now, then don’t comment here.  Unless you’ve ever wondered if the manufacturers of womens clothes were drunk when they sized jeans because YOU CALL THESE A 14 BULLSHIT I demand a recount because I’m pretty sure these are really size BIG ENOUGH TO FIT MY LITTLE TOE YOU DRUNK SIZING BASTARDS, don’t comment here! 

Let’s see if I can come up with any other causes of stress. Ooh heres one.  How about the fact that my husband and I couldn’t have sex for nearly 20 days because that is how long my period lasted and then when we finally did have sex it had been so long I think I pulled something.  So now, I’ve got a cramp in my groin (do women have goins?  Okay a cramp in my sex muscle, wait that sounds bad), a cramp in my junk, and I’m finally done with yet another period but the idea of having sex is so mortifying because of the pain that I feel like saying, "here’s a Playboy and some lotion, try talking to me next month after yet another period."

So, pain, fat, sexual frustration, aren’t I just a bowl of cherries?

So. How have you been? What is new with all of you?