Over a month ago, I spoke at the Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop. It’s a conference for humor writers that attracts folks from all over the world.
Sounds great, right?
It was. Except for one thing that had absolutely nothing to do with the conference.
When I woke up the first morning after having slept in a hotel bed –a really comfortable bed, mind you – I did so with an excruciating pain in my neck and shoulder.
It hurt a lot. Hence my use of the word “excruciating.”
I put a heating pad on the area, and coupled with a dose or two of ibuprofen, the pain went away.
I thought my problem was solved.
I thought wrong…
Just before heading to New York City to speak on a humor panel at a conference the following week, I went to my chiropractor.
He fixed it. I felt great.
But while in NYC, I had a crazed taxi driver (I know, seems impossible, right?!), who drove the car like we were in an action movie fleeing the good guys. I got jostled around the back of the cab. Then, instead of dropping me off at the front of the train station, he dropped me off at the back of the cab line outside the train station, so I got to walk out in the street with my bags.
Why do I tell you this incredibly (not) exciting story? Because it leads to what happened next…
My neck and shoulder began to hurt all over again. A lot…
So I have been back to my doc a few times to make this pain go away.
Yet, here it is.
But you know what bothers me the most about it? I’m in all this pain, and when folks ask what I did to cause it, here’s how I have to answer: I did it in my sleep.
Seriously? I’ve been sleeping now for many, many nights throughout my life, and I can’t get it right this one time?
If reminds me of how I will sometimes bite the inside of my mouth while eating – then proceed to bite it 30 more times that day.
Again, seriously? I’ve been eating for many, many years as well. Most days, it goes off without a hitch. But when I bite my cheek, I think, “What, did I suddenly forget how to eat?”
So here’s what I’ve decided: the next time I have to go to the doctor for this problem or tell someone how I got it, I’m using a better story.
Perhaps I’ll tell them that I’ve had to lie to them all this time because of my job – that I’m really an undercover spy, working against whatever foreign country we’re at odds with this week.
I’ll say that the pain came from fighting five ninjas that came down from the rafters in an old warehouse where I was meeting with my foreign contact. The contact person never showed because the ninjas got to him first. But I was able to fight them off single handedly.
Or even better, I could say that I’m actually the latest, newest Avenger – The Wojonator –but they’re saving my character for the next movie.
I go around fighting crime and leaving bad guys in my wake…
Or I’m really a navy seal and I wasn’t speaking at conferences, I was on a secret mission helping to rescue many important ambassadors held hostage overseas.
Do you think they’ll buy it?
Nope. Me neither.
So, in the meantime, I’ll keep taking ibuprofen, icing the area, and seeing the doc when needed.
But I’ll pick up my superhero cape from the dry cleaners – just in case…
Michele Wojciechowski, when she’s not saving the world from some kind of mayhem and injuring herself in the process, writes Wojo’s World™ from her home office in Baltimore.