A day that will live in infamy.
There I was; in the bathroom, beautifying myself for another day out on the town. I walked into my bedroom, bent over to get something out of my suitcase, and it happened. I don't remember what happened during the next 7.6 minutes, because I'm pretty sure I passed out from the pain, but when I came to, I knew we had a problem. I managed to walk down the stairs and make my way to the kitchen where I promptly shouted for all to hear, "I think I just threw out my back." Think. I think? What I should have said was, "Lord have mercy, I'm experiencing the worst pain I've ever felt in my life!!!!! I need you to call 911 and request a medic immediately!!! Move, people, MOVE!!!!"
Fast forward 17 minutes.
I am now at the chiropractor. I'm not in the building yet. I'm attempting to get out of the van without evoking further damage to my already achin' back. Once I manage to hunchback my way into the building, the real pain begins. Poke and prod and crack and massage and poke and prod and crack and massage. I was given strict instructions to "not sit" and spend the next few days standing, walking, or laying. Are you kidding me?! It's Christmas weekend. How am I not supposed to sit?
I hunchbacked my way back OUT of the building, cried as I crawled back into the van, and spent the rest of the day flat on my back. On ice. No Christmas Eve church service. And certainly no pictures of me during the Kooistra family gift opening after church. Sorry folks. Just because my back has gone out the window, doesn't mean that my dignity has to follow.
It was still a wonderful gift opening, even without the proof that yours truly was present. Plus, it's really all about Kaydrian this year, so it really doesn't matter.
What do you get when you purchase a "fake" Abercrombie and Fitch gift card for the 6'4", 280 pound former offensive lineman?
Meanwhile...
And I laid on ice on the floor in the living room.
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