Last night before leaving for church, I was stabbed in the back. Well, at least I had sharp shooting pains that felt like someone was stabbing me and enjoying it, too. The pain was worse when I needed to take a deeper breath. My exhales came out like screams.

I encouraged hubby to go on to church, but he left the children with me. Good night, what pampering!  We're  really raising these kids right . There I sat in my recliner, occasionally hollering in pain, with my son in firm control of the cell phone and remote and my daughter standing by me with a drink of water or patting my hand. Her only mistake was in trying to take my Jan Karon book away from me, insisting I needed rest. Once we got that straight, they were perfect nurses. 

Hubby cut an after-church meeting short, arranged a ride home for our elderly friend who goes with us, and practically flew home. OH, the pamper fest continued. I could really go for treatment like that all the time but without the stabbing pains in my back when I had to breathe. Well, except when the ice pack that hubby put on my back started to leak. Yeah, I could have done without  that.

Today I feel bettter-still sore, but I walk with a hitch in my get-along. {That's crooked to all you Non-Mountain folks!] Cheryl called this morning and could tell something was wrong. An explanation of, "One of my shoulders is higher than the other , I look like Eegore, and it's hurts like the dickens" followed  I have no idea what it is but if ibuprofen helps, then home I'll stay.

I REALLY protested not going to church. We had such a fantastic service yesterday morning that I was afraid of missing something by not going back. What a blessing to have that kind of church!  I kept thinking I could just 'walk" this out. "IF it hurts too bad, there are some nice wingback chairs in the ladies room--I can just go sit back there."  Of course this was silly and hubby wasted no time in telling me so.

"You are NOT going to go to church to just sit in the bathroom!" 

 Not exactly quotable, but memorable at least. I was comforted by Father Tim and Cynthia Kavanaugh, though, in Jan Karon's Light From Heaven.  It was a gem of delicious quotes like, "Every saint has a  past, and every sinner has a future". Or ,"I drive in the middle because I pay taxes on both sides of the road."  But I've read them out of order and I'm not sure if I've missed any. You just gotta take what you get at the local library, and since I'm not the only fan here abouts, I wait my turn like everyone else.

School was let out for a rare sick day today. I couldn't ,and truth be told they'd rather not.  Well, I'm going to hobble back to my recliner and watch Toy Story 2 with the nursing staff of DoeHill.