(no subject)

( Русский язык )

Oogh. All right, so. Wisdom teeth are now out. The Jag is now -2 Wisdom, and that's all the extractions over with. There were not, as I half expected, injections in the roof of my mouth. Which is good because those fucking hurt. The right side wasn't so bad either, pressure pressure pressure pop. The left side decided it was going to go kicking and screaming. It did the kicking and I did the screaming, sort of. For all the jokes about hit in the head with rubber mallets or whiskey, I almost would have preferred the whiskey.

Anyway, that's done and over with. Once I was done bleeding into gauze after gauze like a stuck cliche, they let me go. With stern instructions not to eat anything hard or crunchy, so I treated myself to Velveeta mac. Which is absolutely not cheese at all, but dammit, it's a treat. The assistant also said, pretty much, that she was pleased with the way everything came out simple and that I have good-healing flesh. In pretty much those words, albeit not in that order. I'll wait for all those of you who've read the first Kushiel trilogy to stop laughing now. I didn't get a prescription for painkillers, I went home and sat around on the computer for a bit until I judged the bleeding stopped enough to go to sleep without drooling blood all over the pillow, and slept for three hours. Then got up and made mac and cheese. So far, today, I'm contemplating a couple of Advil, but more because of something weird and nasty my back is doing than my teeth, which are fine.

Seriously, I don't know what's up with my back. It's tight, it hurts like hell, and I don't know what I did to it. I was bending over last night to put the kitty food down and all of a sudden, shooting pain. It definitely feels like a muscle thing, though, especially with the way it sort of tightens. So, muscle relaxers. And painkillers.

It feels like Monday. I'm not sure why. I seriously need to get back to the whole writing routines thing, didn't get NEARLY as much written yesterday as I meant to (but on the other hand, day of recuperating) but at least I'm not so terribly behind on deadlines. Yet. Rapidly heading that way, though. Come on, Jag, ass in gear.

Costuming may happen this weekend. I've looked over the Cheetara makeup and what Ben Nye crap I've still got rattling around in my dresser, and I should be good. I might order some other stuff if I don't want the Lumiere, if it sparkles too much, but I actually don't think it will. And I have some more flesh-tone makeup in various shades, which either will go on my arm in just the darkest of shades or which I will layer onto my arm, light to dark. Not sure yet which I'll do. I need triangle sponges but other than that I'm good to go, and, seriously? This is going to be awesome. I checked Dragon Con weapons policy, and yes, I can has stik.

But, damn. Linda Hamilton cancelled. Sod it all, I wanted to get her autograph and, you know. Sarah fucking Connor! Ah well. Maybe next year.

(no subject)

( 日本語 )

Dear Back,

If that ever, ever happens again you are fired. No ifs, ands, or buts, I will fire you and replace you with a length of PVC and a series of very small wire clusters. You are a disobedient mongrel son of a flea-bitten she-bitch and you are come straight from hell to torment me. Shape up, or I will find a way to make you pay.

No love,
Me

So, this morning's fun adventure was even better than getting wisdom teeth pulled. This was stabbing, excruciating back pain, yay! Full on series of incoherent involuntary yelps, falling to my knees because pain stole my legs out from under me, it got to the point where I was lying face-down on the carpet because literally any other movement or position hurt like red hot pokers being shoved into the small of my back.

I have no idea what happened. I bent over to put the kitty food dish down last night and my back spasmed, only in the usual way of things it was just a sudden sharp pain and I straightened up and grumbled and was fine. The ache lingered, but I could pretty well move, I just had to be careful about it and it was more irritating than anything else. I went for my walkies as usual, showered with a minimum of twitch-ow-twitch-ow, grabbed something squishyish for breakfast, sat down to do Russian. Got up to get ready to go to work when I was done.

And the body went "no, you go crashing down now." Literally, my back hurt so bad that my legs just crashed out from under me and the next several seconds were an exercise in writhing around till I found a way I wouldn't hurt. Which appeared to be, lying face down and stretched out. This went on for about... three hours or more. At the third hour it was pretty much, get me to the doctor or call 911, so we dragged me to my feet and, of all things, first we dragged me to take care of the necessary. I had about maybe 5% range of movement back, whee, but I managed to change into sweats and somehow get my sorry ass into the car and not fall over, pass out, or pee myself. Which I consider a victory. We got to the doctor's, waited about 45 minutes (next time I just go to the damn urgent care) and then he poked and prodded me and told me that since I didn't have this or that pain, but this kind of pain, it was probably muscle spasm. I love having informed confirmations.

I am now the proud owner of two prescriptions, one for a muscle relaxer, and one for Dr. House's Happy Medicine. Okay, not that specifically, but the generic, I think. So many jokes. He thinks I should be better by Monday, but if I'm not experiencing significant improvement, call. And he sent me over to the radiology place for some scans just to be sure that it wasn't anything involving actual factual spinal damage.

Using a wheelchair is not a skill I wanted to have, and I think I can safely say it still isn't a skill I have. But at least now I know what's wrong, I have something to help it and the other thing to help it will happen tomorrow, work and aunts and family and people have been apprised, and now you have too. Yay.

The day can only get better from here, I swear.