Resourcefulness

One of the women I work with, Lisl, works remotely from her home in Louisiana. When I didn't have enough to do (now I do - thank you! You can stop now!), I was handed some stuff that she had been too busy to do. We emailed each other back and forth a lot, go figure, and I learned that she has a chronic health condition. It's the kind of thing that keeps her at home 99% of the time because going out alone can be a dicey thing. She may find herself in a situation where she desperately needs help but won't be able to get it fast enough.

In a low moment yesterday, I emailed her. I know she keeps her pain under control most of the time. But when it gets bad, what does she do? ("That's easy. I go to the ER and they give me heavy-duty knock me out drugs." Dang.)

She gave me greater details and I realized I am a mere piker in the pain relays. This is just as bad - no, even worse - than Crazy Eddie's migraines that sent him to the hospital to be hooked up to a morphine drip.

Later on, she came back with an email that listed all kinds of things that might apply to me. Very useful hints, actually, and got my own brain working instead of whining about how much I hurt.

Heating pads. Hot water bottles. Go to the doctor for antispasmodics (appt scheduled for tomorrow and I have my fingers crossed that some really good drugs are in the offing). What about those heat-wrap things, she wrote.

Aha! I have these! I also have Tiger Balm but that's too stinky to wear to work.

I found the heat-wrap things - expired in 2010 according to the package. Still, hope springs eternal. I put it on and have to tell you, this feels like the world's most misapplied sanitary napkin. Pin the heat wrap on the Becs sounds like a new party game to me.

I don't care how silly it is as long as it works, which shows you the true level of my desperation.