Last Wednesday Sweety's back wasn't feeling good. We were getting ready for bed and I told him that I thought that I could pop it. (Since I've been paying such close attention to what the chiropractor has been doing to me. Good grief, I wish that I could say that I'd been drinking when this happened but I can't. I was sober as a stone.) I really didn't think that Sweety would let me touch him but he did. (So getting hurt is halfway his fault because all he had to do was tell me no.) And I squashed the hell out of his back, just one time. I didn't do it again because his scream scared me away.
He gimped around the house for a few days in extreme pain until it became a horribly intolerable pain in his neck on Sunday night. His left arm had gone tingly and numb. And his neck hurt unbelievably.
On Tuesday he finally went to the doctor. An MRI revealed that he has 2 bulging discs and 2 crushed nerves. He went to speak with a neurosurgeon this morning about what can be done. He was supposed to call me after he was finished but he hasn't.
When he isn't rolling around in agony he's having a lot of fun picking at me for trying to kill him. His new nickname for me is Dr. Mengele.
Just so you know, I feel like total shit about this and don't need any comments regarding my dumbassery.
I'll just update this post later after I talk to him and find out what's going on.
Sweety was told that he could either have surgery done immediately to fix things or give his body a week to see if it would heal itself. He's not keen on being whacked open so he opted for the wait and see approach.
I asked him last night as he was writing around in agony if there was anything that I could do or get to make him feel better. His reply - "Can we have a threesome?"
It's good to see that his sense of humor is still intact.
But maybe I'll see if I can find someone. This is how crushing the guilt is.