Do you know what I did today? Well, of course not. How could you?
Unless, that is, you’re stalking me. And if so, that’s creepy. Why would you be following me to the shelter to distribute my version of Hostess cupcakes? Then over to a friend’s work to offer her a few. After a quick stop at Chipotle for a veggie bowl, I head up north to one of our feral cat feeding stations to put netting around it so the crows don’t keep making off with mouthfuls of kibble.
Then it’s on to Costco and Safeway to grocery shop for my sister who has trouble walking. A new volunteer needs cat food so I drop it off before heading home to walk my mutts, check emails and answer text messages. After feeding my pets and 2 foster kittens, Lassen and Posey, I make myself dinner and watch the news before sitting down to write.
So after 8 months of sitting on my ever-widening rear end, I finally had my epidural a couple weeks ago.
I don’t normally consider myself a particularly patient person but I have to admit I’ve been uncharacteristically tolerant these past months, living like someone who abhors being active. Now don’t get me wrong; I’m not like my friend Pam, who at 62 (a mere 2 years younger than me), runs 2 half marathons a week in addition to running another hard 9 miles in the hills one day a week. She lifts weights 3 days a week and takes yoga classes as well. Whew!
No, I’m not a masochist like Pam, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m simply someone who enjoys playing tennis, hiking now and then, biking with Pam (oh yeah, she also bikes), working out to yoga and Pilates tapes, taking an occasional jog and even snowboarding once in a while.
My back when out a couple weeks ago. Where it went, I’m not sure. But it’s out and it isn’t in a big hurry to come back.I’ve been lifting more than usual lately and not the beneficial kind of lifting, like at the gym. No, I’m lifting gargantuan wired cages and cat traps for our nonprofit cat rescue, Marin Friends of Ferals. (Yes, it’s a shameless plug.)
The scene of the crime happened in my garage. While lifting my twelfth trap, I felt a searing pain shoot through my lower back and thought: Have I been stabbed? Then I said (to nobody in particular, since I was alone), “Oh, that’s not good.” Continue reading →