It used to be that if I over-did a work out or spent too much time lugging mulch around the yard, my muscles would be sore and perhaps a bit tense. They were kind and gentle about it; a very subtle twinge was all it took to get my attention.
These days my muscles have been seduced into some counter-culture demonic cult where pain is only another way of saying: “Wassup? How you been? Oh, you were sleeping? Sucks-to-be-YOU!”
I woke up at 4:30am crying out in pain. All I wanted to do was sit up. The problem was: my rebellious back, neck, and shoulder muscles were staging a sit-in. Such protests are much more effective when you put large amounts of people, or muscle cells, in one place. Therefore, the back and shoulder muscle cells crawled right on up and knotted together in my neck. I’m sure they were quite cozy. I was crying.
The details of the rest of the morning are a bit fuzzy due to some darvocet (which made me queasy and itchy for the next 4 hours. Try dry-heaving without moving your head. Yeah, it’s that much fun) and a whole lot bleaching my brain of the misery I put Mark through.
Anyway, I haven’t done much of anything today. I can now move my head so that my chin is halfway between the midline and my right shoulder. I can almost lift that same right arm completely over my head. Moving my chin towards my chest, however, incites a level of pain that should only occur during childbirth or amputation performed with a rusty pocketknife.
Stupid damn old-people muscles.
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1 comment:
Getting older is great in many ways, but the deterioration of the body is SO not one of them!
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