Run away back

Have you ever noticed all the different phrases that include the word “back”?

1. back away

2. back down

3. back off

4. back off (Textiles) To reverse (the spindle) in mule spinning prior to winding on the newly spun length of yarn.

5. back out

6. back up

7. back and fill (Nautical). To trim the sails of a boat so that the wind strikes them first on the forward and then on the after side.

8. back and forth

9. back water

10. flat on one's back

11. behind one's back

12. get off one's back

13. get one's back up

14. in back of

15. pat on the back

16. stab in the back

17. turn one's back

I never really paid much attention to the word back … until mine decided to go on strike. Of course, it’s all my fault. Just a few days before my body revolted I was thinking to myself, “How nice to never have had back problems! Yet another pitfall of poor health that I’ve avoided.”

Then I stood on my feet for nine-hours cooking for a Christmas party. I didn’t turn or bend wrong. I didn’t lift something too heavy or reach too far. Apparently my back has instituted a “Maximum Standing Time” policy. It either failed to notify me previous to this event – or it just decided on the spur of the moment it was time to change things.

When I got home that Saturday night, I knew my back was aching. I figured I just needed to lay down and all would be well. HAHAHAHA. In the early morning hours, after swallowing enough medication to tranquilize a hippopotamus, I again thought everything was ok. Monday at work all seemed well. Monday night when bedtime came, everything was NOT so well. I spent the night walking through the back spasms – waiting for the morning and the opening of the doctor’s office.

He wasn’t much help. My choices were drugs that make me drool, drugs that render me zombiefied, or drugs that worked for about 3 hours. I like to think I’m not much a whimp. Here’s how I knew I was in trouble. It hurt so bad, I couldn’t SIT AND READ … nor write. Who knew typing used back muscles?

Then like magic – on day eight, I was all better. It was weird; one moment … counting the minutes until I could take the next pill – and then suddenly returning to normal.

To celebrate I cooked dinner for a friend, went to Christmas Eve service, and made some yummy Blue Cheese Pecan Bread I found on “A Yankee in a Southern Kitchen’s” food blog. I took it and some other appetizers to Christmas dinner.

Since my back is no longer troubling me, I decided to run away from home and help IH824 celebrate her birthday. I drove south for 734 miles the day after Christmas. Clearly whatever was wrong isn’t anymore. Twelve hours of driving and I’m still functioning just fine.

At this very moment, this is my view as I write.

I can hear the crashing surf from the Gulf of Mexico and smell that fresh ocean air. Today is overcast and gray. Yesterday we saw sun when we drove to Pensacola Beach but it’s remained gloomy and misty here on Perdido Key. It doesn’t really matter what the weather though. Being with IH824, Mr. Fish and their friends makes any day brighter.

We’ve already cooked up a storm and more scrumptious meals are to follow.