Yesterday, my body rebelled against me.  Or against something.  I don’t know just what I did — I didn’t actually seem to be stretching things further than was reasonable, I didn’t slip on a patch of ice, I didn’t twist my ankle and land awkwardly — but I put a serious wrench into my lower back yesterday.  The sort of thing that reminds you just how important your back is to the most basic of movements . . . because the most basic of movements suddenly hurt.  A lot.

So I wind up taking a long, hot soak in the tub.  It doesn’t cure my ailing back completely, but it’s relaxing and it feels good.  I stand up to get out of the tub . . . and my body does that woozy-dizzy-headrush thing that happens when you get up too fast.  So I lean against the wall for a moment and I kneel down again to help clear my head.  Which works.  Until I stand up again, that is, when the headrush thing comes back.

Lather.  Rinse.  Repeat.

The third or fourth time this happens, I realize that I’m also feeling nauseous.  And I have an internal debate with myself about whether it’s better to try and fight this feeling off, or if it’ll be restorative to give in to it and get it out of the way.  My body, however, decides it doesn’t need to wait for the conclusion of this debate.  So I find myself briefly enjoying the pleasures of the dry heaves.  In retrospect, it all makes perfect sense.  I’d had about four hours of non-contiguous sleep the night before.  I hadn’t eaten anything all day.  I’d just given my body a major change of temperature by climbing out of a steamy hot bath.  All a lovely recipe for a moment or three of woozy purging.

The geeky bit?  The first thing I thought of when I realized that I might be getting ready to pray at the porcelain temple was that this could be a useful way to “reboot my system.”

Anywho . . . it has been a long time since I blogged properly.  Sorry to come back with a stomach-churning post.  Better things to come soon, I hope.