I’m no longer tired, but I am very frustrated.
I worked at the bakery three days last week. I started having a pain in my back on night two. I was sore all over my upper body, arms, shoulders, back, but like sore muscles from working out, those sore areas went away, especially with more exercise. This back pain did not. It became so severe, I was clinching my teeth together and panting to keep from throwing up. By Friday night, my knees were buckling.
I’m just out of shape. I’ll be fine after the weekend. I slept most of Saturday, I was tired. I didn’t sleep well Monday, but it didn’t matter. It’s not like this job required a lot of mental energy. And no, I don’t think my lack of sleep was the problem. I was well rested. I was feeling great! An hour in and still no pain!
And then it hit. It felt like venom shooting its way into my back and up my spine. It was only on one side.
Ignore the pain. Relax.
My first break, I took two ibuprofen and rubbed my back with horse liniment. I placed a baseball between me and the wall and rubbed it out. I went back ready for the challenge!
It only got worse. Again, I was clinching my teeth, but my knees had not yet started to buckle-I could finish this. After all, I would get used to it, or so they said.
I changed my position. I changed my movements. I ignored it. I forced myself to relax. Nothing. Worked.
Second break. More liniment. More pills. More of the baseball. By now I was texting my husband to see if he was still awake. He was. I was dreaming of working back at Wal-mart. It was a dream come true to this. I didn’t mind the work at the factory; it was just the pain. The searing, unending, unendurable pain.
I went back out. The pain continued. It got even worse. I forced positive thoughts through my head. “I can do this. I can do this.” I couldn’t do it.
I gave up. I told the manager the problem and begged for another position. He gave it to me. I didn’t last an hour. I know it was at least thirty minutes from the time stamp on the cupcakes that went by me. My new job was to make sure they were stamped correctly.
My knees buckled. The nausea came harder. My knees buckled. Again and again. My eyes teared—what was wrong with me?
Another lady there came over and asked if I was OK. I said no, that I was about to throw up from the pain. I could barely stand by that point, holding onto the sides of the conveyor just to keep from falling to the floor. Tears fell from my eyes by this point. This was no sore muscle. This was something bad.
With wet eyes I told my manager I was sorry, I couldn’t do the job. His face made it clear that the pain showed in my face. By that point, co-workers had started staring at me anyway, so I knew something was up.
That was early Tuesday morning. This morning, Wednesday, I drove my child to school. It was painful, but doable. About halfway there, my husband and child wanted me to pull over and let Dad come and do it. I had had a spasm, jerking the car to the left. I refused of course.
This afternoon I went to the massage therapist. She couldn’t be sure of course, but she gave me some advice to tell my doctor, with whom I have an appointment on Monday. She also told me to take my muscle relaxers and rest as much as possible. I had to let my dad take and pick me up from the therapist.
The job search is on hold.