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dragonlady7Tedium.
I am tired of being in pain and an invalid and that is that. I would like to file a complaint that this is ongoing.
I went to work yesterday, and it was bearable, sort of. I can stand up just fine. I just can't sit. And I can't lean over. And I can't pick anything up. And I was a bit embarrassed when I had to pick things up for customers, and couldn't do it easily. I wish we kept repaired cameras and boxes of completed prints etc. in the back room, so that I could do my embarrassing lean-shuffle-kneebend-grab counter-make stupid face-huff a lot routine out of sight.
Also changing the paper in the 8-inch bucket for the print machine from matte to glossy almost killed me. I had the presence of mind to just kneel down on the floor so I wouldn't have to bend and lift the heavy spool of paper, but it still SUCKED. And it's appalling how light a weight is far, far, far too heavy for me to manage-- I emptied the exhaust tank of developer, which was less than half-full-- probably about two quarts of liquid-- and nearly passed out. Seriously? It couldn't have been more than about five pounds of weight, including the container. Five pounds!!
I can't pick Chita up. And she is eight pounds, and not all that wriggly given that she is a cat.
Nobody warned me about this.
Last night a manager-type was working, really hard, on installing a new cash register computer. At the end of the night he said, "I got it working, so can you guys put all the stuff back in the drawers for me?" A reasonable request; he had been slated to leave almost two hours previous, and had spent a very long time trying to get things working, including dismantling the counter from the inside and restringing every cord and cable. I looked at the debris, small objects and things strewn about the floor, and wanted to cry: I can't bend over and pick that up. It's so trivial. It's things like Post-it notes and a multimeter to check batteries (probably four ounces of plastic and metal) and some microfiber lens-cleaning cloths and a phone book and... just all things I can't possibly bend over and pick up.
I went and disassembled the photo lab instead, and I think our hale and hearty 19-year-old sales clerk took care of it. But I felt like a chump having to ask him to empty the stop bath exhaust tank, which was full and needs to go into a funnel into a machine for recycling, and I knew I couldn't do that after my near topple into the toilet (which is where we empty the developer-- it smells gross and leaves residue if we dump it into the sink. Incidentally this is why our employee restroom is revolting and disgusting-- it looks like human waste, but it is photo chemicals, everywhere. Customers ask to use it and I cringe).
Boo. Anyway, I can work, but after a while it feels like there's something on fire just above my pants waistband in the back. I actually felt like there was one little knobby of sensitive skin, and couldn't figure out why, but it really started to feel like I'd been stabbed there. Very unpleasant.
And then driving home was awful, really awful. So I can't think of a way that would be less bad, but phooey. Not happy.
I don't have another day off for quite some time-- someone's on vacation next week, and someone else the week after that, so I've got 6 days both weeks.
It doesn't hurt, very profoundly doesn't hurt, when I'm in just the right position. Which makes it all the harder to cope when it very profoundly does hurt, at other times.
I should really just stop talking about it, because it doesn't help, but I'm a bit obsessive at the moment.
I am tired of being in pain and an invalid and that is that. I would like to file a complaint that this is ongoing.
I went to work yesterday, and it was bearable, sort of. I can stand up just fine. I just can't sit. And I can't lean over. And I can't pick anything up. And I was a bit embarrassed when I had to pick things up for customers, and couldn't do it easily. I wish we kept repaired cameras and boxes of completed prints etc. in the back room, so that I could do my embarrassing lean-shuffle-kneebend-grab counter-make stupid face-huff a lot routine out of sight.
Also changing the paper in the 8-inch bucket for the print machine from matte to glossy almost killed me. I had the presence of mind to just kneel down on the floor so I wouldn't have to bend and lift the heavy spool of paper, but it still SUCKED. And it's appalling how light a weight is far, far, far too heavy for me to manage-- I emptied the exhaust tank of developer, which was less than half-full-- probably about two quarts of liquid-- and nearly passed out. Seriously? It couldn't have been more than about five pounds of weight, including the container. Five pounds!!
I can't pick Chita up. And she is eight pounds, and not all that wriggly given that she is a cat.
Nobody warned me about this.
Last night a manager-type was working, really hard, on installing a new cash register computer. At the end of the night he said, "I got it working, so can you guys put all the stuff back in the drawers for me?" A reasonable request; he had been slated to leave almost two hours previous, and had spent a very long time trying to get things working, including dismantling the counter from the inside and restringing every cord and cable. I looked at the debris, small objects and things strewn about the floor, and wanted to cry: I can't bend over and pick that up. It's so trivial. It's things like Post-it notes and a multimeter to check batteries (probably four ounces of plastic and metal) and some microfiber lens-cleaning cloths and a phone book and... just all things I can't possibly bend over and pick up.
I went and disassembled the photo lab instead, and I think our hale and hearty 19-year-old sales clerk took care of it. But I felt like a chump having to ask him to empty the stop bath exhaust tank, which was full and needs to go into a funnel into a machine for recycling, and I knew I couldn't do that after my near topple into the toilet (which is where we empty the developer-- it smells gross and leaves residue if we dump it into the sink. Incidentally this is why our employee restroom is revolting and disgusting-- it looks like human waste, but it is photo chemicals, everywhere. Customers ask to use it and I cringe).
Boo. Anyway, I can work, but after a while it feels like there's something on fire just above my pants waistband in the back. I actually felt like there was one little knobby of sensitive skin, and couldn't figure out why, but it really started to feel like I'd been stabbed there. Very unpleasant.
And then driving home was awful, really awful. So I can't think of a way that would be less bad, but phooey. Not happy.
I don't have another day off for quite some time-- someone's on vacation next week, and someone else the week after that, so I've got 6 days both weeks.
It doesn't hurt, very profoundly doesn't hurt, when I'm in just the right position. Which makes it all the harder to cope when it very profoundly does hurt, at other times.
I should really just stop talking about it, because it doesn't help, but I'm a bit obsessive at the moment.
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no subject
Date: 2009-08-14 02:34 pm (UTC)But for herniations and muscles, the cure is to rest.
no subject
Date: 2009-08-15 02:29 am (UTC)