I hope you all had a great Fourth of July weekend. Unless you managed to blow off a few digits with fireworks, it’s a pretty safe bet that you had a better time than I did.
I am currently laid up in the highest room of the highest tower in Castle Frostbite. Since Sunday morning, I have not been able to stand, walk, or sit without scream-inducing levels of pain from my treacherous sciatic nerve. I had been nursing a moderate case of my recurring sciatica for two weeks, and the doctor prescribed the usual battery of muscle relaxants and anti-inflammatory drugs. Until Sunday morning, I was at least able to get around, but right now I’m mostly immobilized.
The pain finally reached intolerable levels yesterday, so my wife drove me out to the ER at Dartmouth, where I had to wait three hours for a doctor to see me. Fortunately, that doctor was pretty perceptive and noticed that I was, shall we say, in a bit of discomfort. She had the nurse give me an injection of Dilaudid, which is the most wonderful stuff ever, and then she sent me home with a prescription of weapons-grade painkillers. Right now I’m waiting for the first dose of the day to lick in so I can go downstairs and use the litter box without screaming the house down in the process.
My trip to Readercon on Friday is very much in doubt at the moment, which is a bit of a bummer, because I’ve been looking forward to it for months. Tomorrow I’ll go back to my primary doctor, and until then there’s nothing to do for me but to stay mostly on my back and pop some pills. Luckily, I now have something a bit more potent than Tylenol. Trying to manage this sort of pain with over-the-counter ibuprofen is a lot like trying to put out a wildfire with a SuperSoaker.