As I sat here this morning, eating a healthy (or not-so-healthy, if you think about it) slice of my "guaranteed moist" birthday cake for breakfast, I began to ponder. I pondered about why my back always hurt so much during this particular week of the month and I wondered why I had come up with the title "Tales from the Back Acher" yet had never written about the delightfully excruciating back pain I carry around with me on most days. Usually, I wake up hurting, and go to bed hurting more. It's annoying, it's tiring, and it's hugely bothersome, but I realized I 'm not inclined to go searching for blogs to read that make me feel worse after reading them than I did when I started. No thanks. I believe that you too, my dear reader, are the same way and therefore back pain rarely will be seen on this blog. It's boring and whiny. I don't like whining. Unless the whining makes me laugh.
Let's ponder some more. (And whine while we're at it) Why do heating pads break? What on earth are they made up of that they just stop working? Is it really economical for me to be spending twenty five bucks each on disposable "medical appliances" when I could just be making payments on a hot tub? Making a purchase like that would bring world peace too. At least to my little world anyway. And in my little mind.
This past year I went through a couple more heating pads and then my dear friend gave me an older model. Those kind work best - athough the lack of an automatic turn off feature make for burned spots when you accidentally fall asleep with it on. It's hard to explain to the doctor that the back pain isn't FROM the burn, but that the burn is from pain management procedures gone awry.
This week was bad. The old model heating pad finally gave up it's fight for life. It's barely registering a pulse anymore. I have no idea what I'm going to do. I'm distraught. Mostly because my blogging life usually involves sitting down for 30 minutes of "therapy" with my hot pad to blog, read and comment, and now my secret is going to get busted for sure. I decided to break out the backup GEL PACK.
Let's ponder how the gel packs work. I heated one up in the microwave this morning out of desperation for the back pain and the accompanying FRONT pain I am experiencing during this fine week of hellish PMS. The gel pack is small, it's squishy and it doesn't stay put at ALL. What's the point? It has a cool little velcro strappy thing that helps you keep it with your body when you move around, but whoever invented it wasn't thinking about MY body.
Go ahead, strap something to me and then check back in five minutes to see where it's gone. That crazy belt they had me using during pregnancy usually ended up sneaking around in my underclothes and morphing into a stylish push up bra. Occasionally, it slipped down into my pants and made me look like I was sneaking weapons into public places. I got weird stares when people caught me groping around trying to adjust myself. I'm sure they thought I was shoplifting. I can see it now, "Why yes officer, I was stealing this fabuloso miracle bra! Just look at how this baby lifts! It doesn't do much for separating, but I just had to have it!!"
These things obviously don't work.
Just a moment ago, I felt a warm sensation where I shouldn't be feeling any sort of feeling on a day when I'm home alone unless I was having incontinence issues. Then, I rescued the gel pack from between my legs. How on earth it got there is anyone's guess.