Although that would explain a lot.
Friendly Doctor Guy assured me yesterday that I had indeed not had a stroke (Me: "Oh. Good.") and that he, too, thinks that this is probably a muscular problem rather than a spinal problem. Still, the X-ray's a necessary part of diagnosis, as it wouldn't do to have a subluxated vertebra and no clue that it's there. For the next two weeks I'm to avoid lifting anything or anybody, stay away from housework and yardwork (like I need an excuse), and not lift weights--basically what I'd been told before, but with a longer timeframe. If, in two weeks, the muscle spasms haven't quit, then I'll visit Ye Olde MRI Hutte and lie quietly in a tube for an hour.
I am BORED out of my SKULL. And I'd like my brain back, please.
My routine looks something like this: Wake up, take anti-inflammatory. Have fifteen good minutes between the time the drugs kick in and the time they make me too dizzy and woozy to move. Use those 15 minutes to accomplish something like folding laundry one-handed.
Nap for four hours.
Get up out of bed, run errands one-handed. Get home with shoulder creeping up toward ear. Take muscle relaxant. Have thirty good minutes before I fall over in a spineless heap; use that time to eat. Sleep for four to six hours.
Wake up. Repeat. Somewhere in there, feed dogs and cats. Perhaps consider taking on a major project, like reading The Wizard of OZ, but give up due to lack of brain power.
Go to bed. Wake up in the middle of the night with spasms that necessitate both NSAIDs and relaxants. Know nothing more until about ten the next morning.
I can't wait to go back to work. What a picnic *that'll* be. I'm not quite as disoriented as my patients, but my physical NIHSS score is worse.