Oh, my aching back!

I once read that it is the duty of Time to keep everything from happening at once.

Well, Time is a slacker.

I'm trying to get Gabriels' gown done for his knighting, as well as two linen tunics, some braies and two sets of hose. Before the 30th. I also need to prep for two vigil baths and get myself packed for An Tir-West War.

Is that enough to deal with?

Apparently the Universe says no.

My back has been bothering me a bit over the past couple of months, possibly because of time upstairs sewing and too much time in this desk chair. And then I went to Egils, which necessitated packing my garb, wrestling all of the kitchen gear out of the basement, packing and loading all of the various boxes, wrestling all of the bed parts and tables up onto the roof of the car, doing it all in reverse to set up camp, doing the camping thing including teaching two classes and hosting a dinner party, and then undoing all of that, loading the car again, and driving home.

By the time I got home I was in so much pain it was all I could do to shove the laundry sacks out of the car and down the stairs, the coolers into the living room, and with superhuman (for me) effort, unloading the roof stuff into the garage.

I spent the next few days with heat or cold packs, ibuprofen or Aleve, stretching, alternating my shoes every day, changing position frequently here at my desk... everything I could think of. The pain is at the waistline on the left, and slightly above, right where a Barbie is jointed at the waist. But by the 2nd I could hardly move and went to the doctor.

Well, she thought it was muscle strain, which would make some sense, and sent me home with muscle relaxants, some more stretching exercises, and instructions to do what I'd already doing.

So I did. The muscle relaxants knock me out- I slept and slept and slept. (This is of course at the expense of time in the sewing room). I tried moving carefully, and occasionally would feel a little better, and try to make up for it- by doing laundry, seriously vacuuming my room, trying to unload more of the car... which was stupid. So this Monday (the 20th) I called in and went in that afternoon. It had been 2 1/2 weeks and I really wasn't getting better. Well, we poked and prodded, and bent me around, And then she said "You know, the area where it hurts the worst is more ligaments than muscle. I think you have here an actual sprain."

Oh. Joy.

So we're trying different muscle relaxants, I'm not supposed to lift anything more than a pound or two. PERIOD. And they're going to try to schedule some physical therapy.

In the mean time, one week from tomorrow, I need to be in the car, headed to Gold Beach, with all of my tourney gear and a pile of clothes for Gabriel.

I'm doomed. I need another month at least. But I don't have it. So as soon as I can get something to drink and my shoes on (a task, as bending over is verboten), I'm headed upstairs to work on the elevation tunic.

Wish me luck.