I am doing nothing today. Absolutely nothing. I’m busy having a Pity Party for myself and that takes up all of my time and energy. Well, I take that back…in the Valentine spirit I did attempt to make heart-shaped sugar cookies for my family. I had made the dough yesterday and was all prepared as soon as Sullivan got on the bus to start rolling and cutting, frosting and decorating. This is a labor of love, my friends, as I have recently finally come to admit my failure as the Good Mother and Wife and stand up to say, “My name is Susie and I hate to bake roll-out cookies.” And doing a task you truly can’t stand in the middle of a Pity Party—I believe that gets extra points. I was ready to take on this task with a heart full of love, simply because I know my kids (and husband too, I’m sure) would be delighted. (and obviously it’s something they rarely get!!) The dough, however, was not going to cooperate with me. I have a feeling my mother-in-law forgot something in the recipe, as all the refrigeration and extra flour in the world would not help this dough be rolled out without sticking to everything, forget getting it off the counter and onto the baking sheet in any shape resembling a heart. So the dough went into the garbage, along with any will to do anything else today except prepare myself to schlep on into work later this afternoon.
Schlepping is definitely the word to describe me today—well, today and for the past 2-3 weeks or so as I’ve been battling an on-going back problem. 
Hence the reason for my party. Who knows what started it? I have no idea. I didn’t get into a car accident, reach to get something in a funny way, sneeze whilst bending over. There is no rhyme or reason this time for my current condition and that just gives me more reason to celebrate. I have lived with this back thing for years now, a few times in my life it has left me bedridden for a week or so before I am finally able to hobble around, all bent to one side, gripping the wall or whatever else is close by to get me from point A to point B. Luckily most of the time it’s not that severe, but I can honestly say not one single day goes by without me being in at least a small amount of pain and/or stiffness. Before this recent bout, if I felt a bit stiff I’d lay down on my side for a few and it would work itself out. Not this time. Before this, there was always something that triggered it to get to this teetery point, but I honestly can’t think of thing that I did. This scares me. (and if only I looked this glamorous with my back ache...!!)
Turning 40 is bad enough without having to deal with an on-going condition that makes you feel like you're 80. I have too much life to live and enjoy to worry about getting from point A to point B!!! I gave up water-skiing, dancing, my beloved Tae Kwon Do, the idea of ever doing anything ultra-physical or even walking or driving long distances long ago and have (more or less) come to terms with that. But getting from point A to point B is just living life, my friends. I need to go to work and be on my feet for hours. I need to get in and out of the car without worries of my back REALLY going out. I need to be able to lay down and get comfortable so I can get a good night’s sleep.
And did I mention that I can’t take any medications for the pain? This party just gets better and better, doesn’t it?? No Advil, Motrin, Aleve, Aspirin—any pain reliever but Tylenol (which does ABSOLUTELY NOTHING for back pain) can I take because I am allergic to NSAIDS, which are the main components in these life-savers. Damn if I can’t even take the fun stuff like Vicodin. (alas, I don’t think they’ll let me live on morphine. Imagine what shape cookies I’d be making on that stuff?!) So, I live with it.
Honestly, I HATE complaining. I don’t like it when other people do it, and I don’t like to listen to myself do it. Typically I don’t invite people to my Pity Parties—I just soldier on with a happy face and hope that eventually pretending turns into reality. And it usually does. But sometimes, darn it all—one just has to give in and let yourself be disappointed in your situation. It takes a lot of energy to put on that happy face all the time and frankly sometimes I reach a point where I just can’t NOT complain. So there it is. Put on the party hats and get out the streamers. Blow the noisemakers and eat the cake. It’s a Pity Party, and you’re invited. And now you may leave, go on to the next party and be done pitying me. Hopefully soon this episode will be a bad memory and I’ll wake up with a lampshade on my head and gladly do the walk of shame on home. And it will be walking, not schlepping!!!
