One of the benefits of going to the WORLD'S GREATEST CHIROPRACTOR*, is that she gives you cool stuff to help you when you aren't in her office.
Which leads me to admitting that I'm clumsy.
Two weeks ago, on the tennis court, I fell backward trying to hit a return to my competition. Not only did I fall, but I fell awkwardly. Enough so, that the muscles in my neck, that I was straining to try to keep my head from hitting the concrete, decided to pull in a way that was causing me to either need to a) continuously drink to keep from saying "OOOWWWWWWWW" or b) start taking muscles relaxants, chased with drinks.
I decided to do neither because, fortunately for me, I had an appointment with the wonder-doc the very next day and a massage scheduled the day after that.**
And the very next day, after cracking my neck so loudly I think I'm one step closer to deafness, and realigning my back and hips, that sweet bone cracker doctor o' mine hooked me up with a "TENS" machine.
Yeah, I didn't know what a "TENS" machine was either.
Turns out, this little gem sends electrical pulses through these sticky pads (that look like the pads used for heart tests) and, literally, wear your muscle out with their pulsating. I learned, very quickly, that the knob that controls the pulses goes from "gentle massage" to "MY MUSCLE IS CONTRACTING AND I HAVE NO CONTROL OVER IT" in a very short time.
Literally, if you crank this baby up as high as she goes, you can WATCH your muscle contract. Pretty cool, huh?
Well, let me tell you how cool: the next day, the muscle in my neck didn't hurt a bit. And it has been fine ever since. Miracle, I tell you. M.I.R.A.C.L.E.
So tonight, I realized that I had torqued my shoulder muscle*** and got out the TENS machine. It was slightly after bedtime and two of the three kids were tucked in for the night, so I headed up to Nickels room to finish the rounds.
On my way out, I turned the light out in the kitchen and the entire living room went pitch black. The TENS machine was firing along nicely, meaning it felt prickly to my muscles, and I decided the best way to navigate the black in order to keep myself from serious bodily harm was to put my arms straight out, all Frankenstein like. That way, if something was ahead of me, my arms would feel it before my body contacted it. Logical, right?
Attempting to execute Project No Injury, my arm brushed the side of my body, where the TENS controller was hanging off my pajama bottoms, and sent it into "extreme shock mode".
Not only did I THINK that someone had roughly touched my shoulder, it felt like it. And, being in the pitch black, I had no way to tell my brain "SHUT.THE.HECK.UP. There is no one there, idiot." So, what did I do?
I screamed. Like a woman being mugged. At the top of my lungs.
Freaked Nickels out. He was all "MOM? ARE YOU OK? WHAT'S HAPPENING?"
By this time, I've realized I'm a complete buffoon and lowered the amperage down to negative five. And I yell "It's all fine. Mom's just an idiot."**** And he said "You really scared me."
After apologizing profusely, I retired to my bedroom. I was about to take the TENS machine off when Nickels appeared in my doorway.
"Mom? I'm scared. Do you mind if I sleep on Hooman's bunk?"
Yes. I get the Mommy Gold Star of the night for freaking my son out so bad that he couldn't even sleep in his own room.
All because I'm clumsy and have to send electrical pulses through my body to survive exercise.
Stay tuned for more hilarity. We're only into week two of tennis and it's a LOOONNNNGGG season.
*Since it was written in my code of conduct not to name names, call me for a referral.
**Thank you, Lord, for concocting my schedule and taking care of me before I even knew I would need it.
***Yes, I'm aging. Thanks for reminding me, body.
****Come to think of it, my son didn't disagree. HMMMM.