Because I’m weary.
The good news: Taxes are done and printed — and we’ll be getting about $3,900 back between federal and state refunds.
The bad news (and the reason I’m weary): Tim had another flare. He bent to look at something in a store, and his back freaked the hell out. He was already scheduled for a massage that day, but at the end of the hour he was still sobbing in pain. And that was having already taken a hydrocodone.
We scheduled one for 11 a.m. on Monday, and he’s been resting all weekend. But it’s meant a lot of fetching/toting for me and a lot of guilt (about the fetching/toting) for him.
As Mom pointed out, a month of walking weirdly because of the broken heel probably messed his back up, so now he’s paying the piper. Or in this case, masseuse.
Anyway, we’re both hopeful that Monday’s massage will get him back to normal. Which is to say, still a ton of pain but… like… at levels he’s used to.
And at least he’s promised to start trying to get more active once he’s back to regular levels. The more sedentary the pain makes him, the worse the pain gets. Which makes sense, but doesn’t make it any easier to get going.
Still, he’s promised some small steps (literally and figuratively). If for no other reason than to be able to take Pandora on short walks. And to make life easier for me.
He’s also agreed to try occupational therapy. There are days when he has trouble closing his hand around a pen, so he can’t keep going like this.
Hopefully, we can find a provider who is well-versed in working with chronic pain sufferers.