Sometimes that's more literal than others.
My skeleton is wrong. And by that I mean "more wrong than the usual parameters that are why I keep a cane around for emergencies and complain about my back".
For example: Half the time when I pick KJ up to put her on the diaper table, as I'm setting her down something goes out of alignment in my wrist with a horrifying sensation and sometimes pain. My right ankle has been on strike for the last few weeks, and sometimes the knee and hip join it in refusing to cross the picket lines. I had that awful rubber-band-spasm feeling in a wrist, too, which wound up with me putting it in an ineffectual brace for a couple of days. Back pain has congealed into a couple of immobile lumps up against my spine. On the up side, my shoulders don't appear to be any worse than usual, or perhaps it's just that my standards of comparison differ. While whispercricket
was in the hospital I had several lengthy pontifications about the Hyperbole and a Half pain scale
, which I have memorised the bottom half of. (Normal me is around 1-2 pretty constantly, I'm currently wandering between 3-5 reliably.)
Usually when I sleep I get a partial reset on things - I spend an hour or two after getting up with no more than a couple of minor sproings, which is within my scope of normal. And then I'll be doing something, and the ankle will go, on and off, getting worse over the course of the day, taking other things down with it; I'll change KJ and the wrist will spang unnervingly.... Basically, over the course of each day, it degenerates.
And over the course of each week, the curve also trends downwards.
There was a part of me that was sure this was a stress thing, from the moving and the disruption and the new baby and everything else, that it would get better when the stress did. And the stress is better, and I'm still getting worse. Which at least gets me to the emotional point of H&1/2 5 pretty reliably: Why is this happening to me??
I just had to haul KJ upstairs for a diaper change, and she wouldn't walk, so I had to pick her up, and I just had to ... stand there ... after I did so, to rebalance, and I got her up the stairs and half-collapsed at the top. She happily ran down to her room and flung herself on her bed as I got the stuff together for the diaper change, but whispercricket
to come upstairs because I couldn't pick the kid up to put her on the diaper table.
I'm actually kind of scared about this.