While mowing the lawn last summer, I moved the wrong way and felt an ominous pop in my lower back. The next moment I was hobbling to the kitchen for ice packs, ibuprofen, and a muscle relaxer.
“I can’t afford this right now,” I told my husband through tears. It’s a lament I repeat each time I wake up with a scratchy throat, or when that pressure at the base of my skull starts creeping toward migraine status.
I CAN’T AFFORD THIS RIGHT NOW.
By “this,” I mean slowing down. Resting. Letting my body heal from whatever compromised it in the first place.
