A few weeks ago, we had our Primary Program at church. That's where the kids sing the songs they learned in Primary this year, and some of them have small speaking parts. Benjamin was supposed to have a speaking part, but he was sick that day. I called Scarlet, one of the Primary leaders, to explain the situation, and I offered to have Daniel do the part instead. I also volunteered to stay home with Benjamin, but Wayne told me I should go to see Daniel in the program. So, Daniel and I went off to church.
When it was time for the kids to go up to the front, I told Daniel he should sit with Benjamin's class so that he would be near the microphone when it was time for him to do Benjamin's part. He instead went to sit with his class. I was trying to quietly get his attention as little children wandered all over the chapel, making their way toward the front. I gave up and scooted into the far end of my row to make room for more parents to sit. As I sat down, I failed to notice that my bench was the only one that didn't go all the way to the wall. I sat down, hard, on the wooden armrest instead. I yelped a little, but the kids were still making too much noise for anyone to particularly notice me. I slid down onto the bench, hoping that I wasn't making a scene.
I was joined by my friend Lisa, and I quietly and uncomfortably endured the program. Much as I wanted to leave, I knew Daniel would feel bad if I wasn't there. Daniel did join Benjamin's class just before it was time for his part, and he did fine filling in. All of the kids did a great job with the program. As soon as it was over, I made sure Daniel went to his class, and I left.
I was crying by the time I got home because I was in so much pain. Wayne went back to church, and I rested for the rest of the day. I figured I must have bruised my tailbone badly. I took a ton of ibuprofen for the next two days, but lying down was so painful that I couldn't sleep.
Finally, on Wednesday morning, I went to see a doctor. Not my regular doctor. Because when I called my ob/gyn, the receptionist told me that he doesn't treat tailbones, at least not unless the woman is pregnant. Figures. He's never liked me much since I became infertile. So, I found a new doctor. I went to a family doctor who took one look at the suffering I was experiencing and decided that my tailbone was probably broken. Then he took x-rays just to be sure. Yep, it was broken. He gave me a week's worth of prescription painkillers and a donut pillow and sent me on my way.
The painkillers worked great. At least, they put me out of my misery. I was completely out of it for the next week. Luckily, I had a lot of help from some fabulous people. I don't even remember who all helped me out because I was so dazed. All I can say is thank you to all the people who watched my kids, picked up Benjamin from school, brought us food, etc. I have fabulous family members and friends. Wayne was a great help as well, although he got pretty sick at this time, too. He worked from home for a few days so that he could help out more, and he did pretty much everything to arrange for Daniel's baptism and the big family lunch afterward.
How am I doing now? Well, I still have a donut pillow, which is a must for car rides and helpful when sitting for a long time. I managed to sit for the entire hour of sacrament meeting at church this week, a first since I broke my tailbone. But that was my limit, and I had to go home afterward. I'm sleeping ok, and I'm still taking lots of ibuprofen. Overall, I'm healing slowly but surely. The doctor said it's like any other broken bone--it takes about six weeks to heal. It's been three, but it sure seems like a lot longer.
You never appreciate the blessing of being able to sit comfortably until you can't do it anymore. Note the bit of plastic donut peeking out on the right side of the picture. All I want for Christmas is a healed tailbone.
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