Stuff I Talk About

by Christina Ledbetter


I shouldn’t be operating the Internet under these conditions.

It started Saturday when I noticed it hurt to turn my head to the far right. Huh, that’s funny, I thought. Musta tweaked something. The pain was actually in the back of my head, right where you’d aim to hit someone with a frying pan should they be up to no good.

I showed Benson. “See, this hurts,” I said, turning my head slowly.

The next morning at church things were a bit worse. My friend Emily sat to my right, and I turned my whole body toward her and explained I’d apparently messed something up on my insides and please excuse me. During church announcements, I realized my head hurt not only when I turned to the right, but even if I stared straight ahead. The only relief came when I turned my head to the left. So that meant I became one of those weird people during worship who stares at the wrong screen, making everyone else uncomfortable. Plus, I tend to lift my arms during particularly moving songs.


Monday came. More pain. I was scheduled to spend the night with my friend Ann because she had surgery that day. When I got to her house I faked like I was fine for a while and even made her a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. But then an hour later I hit her up for post-surgery drugs.

Tuesday morning came and the only movements I could make resembled those which a cuckoo could perform while announcing the time: straight up, bend forward at 90 degree angle, straight back up.

Benson took me to the doctor. It’s a muscle spasm in my neck, sending pain to whichever part of my body will take it.

Now I’m on muscle relaxers until we can get this muscle to calm down and stop acting like he’s at a rave. Last night I fell asleep at 8:30. This morning, I awoke to this:


I called him immediately. “Hey!” he answered. “It’s okay!” I heard him tell his co-workers. “She’s alive!” I heard a series of “Whews!” in the background. I had been asleep for 14 hours.

I called my mom later and her phone went to voicemail. “Hey mom,” I slurred. “Sorry I didn’t call you back to the other night. I was . . . I’m on . . . see, I was feeling loopy then. [Long pause.] I’m actually still loopy. Okay, call me back. I have muscle spasms. Love you.”

Y’all, these pills are no joke. My doctor told me not to drive while taking them, but I feel like the only thing I’m qualified to do right now is pet my cat (and even that’s a little sloppy). That, and take pictures.


One day, probably three days from now when my prescription runs out, I will regret this decision to blog while high. For now though, I can feel my eyes closing. Please send word to Benson that I’m still breathing.

Categories: This and That

4 replies

  1. Well darn it, sorry to hear about this. Weirdly enough, I swear I’ve had a tight muscle in my neck since Nov 8, no joking. Heat and massage therapy seem to do the most good for me, but I’m sure you’ll get lots of other free medical advice via this blog.

  2. You know, those meds are for you and not Harold.

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