In some ways this was a good week, in others, it was the week from hell. All in all, an interesting sweet and sour mix that ended with sharp spice where there shouldn't have been.
During the week, the tiger-lily got me in trouble when she blamed everything on me at the 'fact-finding meeting'. I wasn't there, in fact I was only mentioned en passant in an e-mail. Now, the fat is in the fire - the tiger-lily meeting will generate one of my own. I'm sure of it. Unless the boss can dampen the fires of Dr. Hormone Spike, and I hope he can. It won't be easy, although we're not the only people tired of being bathed in Dr. Spike's brew of hormones.
Then in a separate meeting, Dr. Bear ripped apart the paper that R and I had worked on, introduced more words and brought our word total back up to 3200 - when we're only allowed 2500. I shall retaliate by taking 5 days of data out. See if I don't.
Then the bushels of lemons that pelted us on Wednesday didn't become pineapples or cactus-fruit. Rather the opposite, they became snow berries and the temperatures plummeted. I shall be excoriated for this description because I'm certain it's not accurate, but I do believe that it sticks closely to the original fruity theme. A veritable box of fruit-loops when the weather is discussed these days. Who can keep up.
But back to the foaming. On Friday morning, while I was attending to my ablutions and brushing my teeth the way Tammy had taught me, "Gently Dr. Ghost, gently - you're whisking away plaque, not removing a layer of enamel", I noticed that the sink was dirty. Filthy actually, but who's paying attention. So while still brushing my teeth, I leaned my body over to the left, and down to get a cleaning pad. Bending over would have been bad enough, but probably still manageable, but the angling was a fatal mistake for my back muscles went into a spasm and I collapsed to the floor foaming at the mouth (toothpaste, not rabies) and could do nothing but roll over to my side in the foetal position moaning softly, and dribbling toothpaste foam onto the floor. Such a good thing I'm renting.
I lay there in agony until the spasms stopped and I could think again, and I realised my phone wasn't within reach. Good thing it wasn't on me, I might have landed on ID and crushed him. What wasn't so good though was that I couldn't call for help and visions of flesh eating evil black squirrels and raccoons breaking through my windows to have at me flashed before me.
Then I thought, even if I had my phone, the nearest person who could come to my aid was the first part of GARP - and there was no way I was letting GA see me in my morning attire. Dr. J would just tell me to get up and stop malingering, Dr. C would analyze why I wanted to assume the foetal position while foaming at the mouth, and Dr. Shark would say that it was a nice try, but still not medically interesting enough for her to attend to. DWA would send Jim and Bob to lick my face, DWE and ML would have a drink and make comments about the state of my feet, and what colour coffin would best suit my Ted Baker Jacket.
So I gave up on them, crawled to the nearest chair and slowly stood up. It was hell. Total hell. You don't realise how much you require your lower back for bending until you have to do without. Then I had to go to work. Coffee didn't help, but naproxen did. Lovely, lovely, lovely naproxen. Better living through Chemistry - never a better example known.
Then Dr. Bear tore our paper up and I went home and walked around because I couldn't sit or lie down. However, at least I was no longer foaming at the mouth.
By the way, I stopped by the pharmacy today to ask about methocarbamol - the muscle relaxant that's added to "back pain medication" which consists mostly of ibuprofen. I've always had my doubts about methocarbamol...and they were confirmed by the pharmacist. I asked her whether it actually did any good, and she looked furtively at me, then shook her head, whispering, "it only makes you drowsy". She went on to say that the good stuff - the really good stuff - was available by prescription only. So I told her that I should just stick to naproxen then, and she nodded approvingly - "Yes, that's the strongest non-prescription pain killer you can get!"
So there you go. Don't bother with methocarbamol.