So, I came home on sunday for a few days off. Went up to help with the annual Fire Department Car Show. Operating on only 3 hours of sleep, I spent the entire day from 7am til 4pm setting up, selling entry tickets at the gate, walking around selling 50/50 tickets (sold almost $450 in tickets!), and tearing down. Did I mention that it started raining around 2pm? We then went home and spent the entire evening eating pizza and watching Pirates of the Caribbean 3 and Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull.
Monday consisted of me sitting around doing nothing for the morning while Chris went off to work at the cemetery. Yeah, he's a gravedigger and general groundskeeper part-time. He ended up coming home at lunchtime due to weather, and we spent the early part of the afternoon in the studio, where I worked on preparing a couple of paintings for work. We spent the latter part of the afternoon wrestling. I'm 5'4. He's 6'. I'll let you guess who won. Is it sad that I simply cannot remember what we did that evening?
When I woke up Tuesday morning, I wanted to gnaw my left arm off. But I didn't really have time to worry about it, so I dragged my clothing on while trying to not move that arm too much and headed off to work. We lost power for 2 minutes first thing, then the manager had to leave early because she was sick. Not 10 minutes after she left, we lost power again. For 45 minutes. Do you have any idea how bad it is for business to have the power go out? Then, with my arm hurting really bad, I decided to put the Pepsi order away. Note to self- when you are already hurting, don't do anything stupid to make it hurt more! Went to the Fire Department to finish up the clean-up from the car show, and guess what? I had to help move more cases of soda. It almost sounds like the world was conspiring against me. By the time I was done, the pain was so bad I was nauseous, so I went home. Chris came home and we watched Top Shot, then went to bed, where I discovered that I couldn't use my arm for anything. Such as rolling over. Sleeping on my left side was out of the question. I woke up at 3 am to pain so bad I wanted to cry.
Woke up on Wednesday to fire in my shoulder. I was barely able to get myself dressed, then walked the dogs with Chris (i.e. walked with him while he walked both dogs). I spent the day working on those paintings I had prepared to work on on Monday. Since I'm right handed, there was only mild additional discomfort involved with painting. Of course, because I hurt too mush to move, the dogs decided it was a great day for barking out the window. And once I got done painting, Fenris decided to lick the painting. Apparently, oil paint is delicious. As the day went on, however, the pain got worse and worse, to the point where I wanted to cry just sitting there. Even breathing hurt. I finally gave in and we went to convenient care.
We sat there for 3 hours before I was seen (so much for being faster than the ER), and when I was finally able to talk to a doctor, they told me what I already knew. I had strained my pectoral muscle (for the anatomically challenged, that's the big one that goes across the front of the chest). Not only had I strained it, but I had done a good enough job that it got severely inflamed, and that was what was causing the pain. They gave me a shot of Tolderol in the butt for the inflammation, prescribed me 600mg of ibuprofen 3 times a day (that's a shit ton, for those who don't know), and sent me home with the warning to not wrestle with Chris anymore.
Yeah, right. Like that's gonna happen.