So, I said I would tell you about how I hurt my back. Crazy story, but true. Here goes...
We were driving around the countryside looking for land to purchase. Morgan and I were in the car behind Nolan and Taylor. We were all headed to Round Rock, TX (via "the long way"). I was praising God when we finally got to the HWY 21 intersection because I knew there was a corner store (with a bathroom) about 1 mile away.
As we sat waiting to cross HWY21, an elderly man coming the other direction stopped to tell Nolan something. The next thing I know, Nolan is turning the truck around and heading slowly up a country side road. What was I to do? I turned to follow him, trying hard to concentrate on the problem at hand (man, did I ever have to go to the bathroom).
Nolan pulled over to the side of the road in the middle of nowhere... got out of his truck... looked at the front, left tire and slumped his shoulders. I'd seen that look before - Flat tire.
At this point, I could've cared less about his tire, I REALLY had to go to the bathroom. Frantically I looked for a tree... (well, I'm not shy when I'm in that much pain). Would you believe that just beyond Nolan's truck there was a porta-potty? Seemed like it dropped out of nowhere... seriously! It was clean - looked like it had never been used before. I thanked God (really, I did) and ran for the potty, praying until I was actually in it that I wasn't hallucinating.
I know that you're wondering what in the heck this has to do with a back-ache, but I'm getting there. Really I am.
Finding the jack on his new truck was an ordeal that I won't get into now. It's the next part that's of real interest... comical now, not at all funny at the time and I've been paying for it since. When we bought Nolan's new truck, we had a grill guard put on it so that he had extra protection as he was driving in deer country. Well, that guard was JUST heavy enough, that it weighed the front end of the truck down so that the jack wouldn't fit under the axle. Nolan was none too happy.
As he laid under the truck uttering angry words, Taylor and I had the bright idea that we could lift up on the front end of the truck (slightly). So that's exactly what we did. And it worked...... sort of. Nolan couldn't get the jack close enough to the tire, so he asked us to do it again... then he said, "lift higher", so we did.
He wasn't thinking (and apparently we weren't either or we'd have had him do the lifting while we placed the jack). Well, the second time we lifted, I felt a "pop" and I whispered to Taylor, "ouchhhhhhhhhhhhh. Don't tell Nolan, but I'm gonna hurt tomorrow." That's what I get for trying to be Hercules.
Turns out that because of the slope of the road, the jack could only lift the truck high enough to get a flat tire off. Not high enough to put a fully aired tire back on. I looked at Nolan and said, "baby, there's no way I'm lifting the front end of the truck again, and there's no way that I'm going to be the only one under it now that there's not even a flattened tire to keep it from crushing me..."
Well, we'd probably still be stuck in "Podunk, TX" if my husband wasn't McGyver. He found some old broken 2x4's (that's right, just like the porta-potty, they just seemed to appear out of nowhere) and stacked them under the front end of the truck until they were as high as the jack. Then he took the jack out and moved it even closer to the tire, jacked it up again and changed the tire.
It should be noted that my back didn't hurt on Thanksgiving Day (another God thing), but the NEXT day, WOW! It lit me up. And you know what? For the life of me, I couldn't figure out why my back was so sore. Had I slept wrong? It took about 8 hours for Taylor and I to finally look at each other and remember... "Oh yeaaaaaaaaah. The truck, " we said in unison.
After a week's worth of medicine (and plenty of muscle relaxers), my back is getting better. The memory will keep me laughing about it until I'm too old to remember. But the worst part? The batteries were dead in my camera. I couldn't get a picture of the porta-potty, or Nolan with slumped shoulders, or two girls (one 42 and the other 13) trying to be Hercules. A small part of me hopes something similar happens again... just to have the pictures.
We were driving around the countryside looking for land to purchase. Morgan and I were in the car behind Nolan and Taylor. We were all headed to Round Rock, TX (via "the long way"). I was praising God when we finally got to the HWY 21 intersection because I knew there was a corner store (with a bathroom) about 1 mile away.
As we sat waiting to cross HWY21, an elderly man coming the other direction stopped to tell Nolan something. The next thing I know, Nolan is turning the truck around and heading slowly up a country side road. What was I to do? I turned to follow him, trying hard to concentrate on the problem at hand (man, did I ever have to go to the bathroom).
Nolan pulled over to the side of the road in the middle of nowhere... got out of his truck... looked at the front, left tire and slumped his shoulders. I'd seen that look before - Flat tire.
At this point, I could've cared less about his tire, I REALLY had to go to the bathroom. Frantically I looked for a tree... (well, I'm not shy when I'm in that much pain). Would you believe that just beyond Nolan's truck there was a porta-potty? Seemed like it dropped out of nowhere... seriously! It was clean - looked like it had never been used before. I thanked God (really, I did) and ran for the potty, praying until I was actually in it that I wasn't hallucinating.
I know that you're wondering what in the heck this has to do with a back-ache, but I'm getting there. Really I am.
Finding the jack on his new truck was an ordeal that I won't get into now. It's the next part that's of real interest... comical now, not at all funny at the time and I've been paying for it since. When we bought Nolan's new truck, we had a grill guard put on it so that he had extra protection as he was driving in deer country. Well, that guard was JUST heavy enough, that it weighed the front end of the truck down so that the jack wouldn't fit under the axle. Nolan was none too happy.
As he laid under the truck uttering angry words, Taylor and I had the bright idea that we could lift up on the front end of the truck (slightly). So that's exactly what we did. And it worked...... sort of. Nolan couldn't get the jack close enough to the tire, so he asked us to do it again... then he said, "lift higher", so we did.
He wasn't thinking (and apparently we weren't either or we'd have had him do the lifting while we placed the jack). Well, the second time we lifted, I felt a "pop" and I whispered to Taylor, "ouchhhhhhhhhhhhh. Don't tell Nolan, but I'm gonna hurt tomorrow." That's what I get for trying to be Hercules.
Turns out that because of the slope of the road, the jack could only lift the truck high enough to get a flat tire off. Not high enough to put a fully aired tire back on. I looked at Nolan and said, "baby, there's no way I'm lifting the front end of the truck again, and there's no way that I'm going to be the only one under it now that there's not even a flattened tire to keep it from crushing me..."
Well, we'd probably still be stuck in "Podunk, TX" if my husband wasn't McGyver. He found some old broken 2x4's (that's right, just like the porta-potty, they just seemed to appear out of nowhere) and stacked them under the front end of the truck until they were as high as the jack. Then he took the jack out and moved it even closer to the tire, jacked it up again and changed the tire.
It should be noted that my back didn't hurt on Thanksgiving Day (another God thing), but the NEXT day, WOW! It lit me up. And you know what? For the life of me, I couldn't figure out why my back was so sore. Had I slept wrong? It took about 8 hours for Taylor and I to finally look at each other and remember... "Oh yeaaaaaaaaah. The truck, " we said in unison.
After a week's worth of medicine (and plenty of muscle relaxers), my back is getting better. The memory will keep me laughing about it until I'm too old to remember. But the worst part? The batteries were dead in my camera. I couldn't get a picture of the porta-potty, or Nolan with slumped shoulders, or two girls (one 42 and the other 13) trying to be Hercules. A small part of me hopes something similar happens again... just to have the pictures.
2 comments:
wow Aubrey, what a saga! back pain is no joke though! glad you are feeling better.
WOW Aubrey--what you won't do for your MAN!!
Scrapbook that story girl...even without the photos!!
Glad you are feeling better!
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