Most people don’t realize that darts is a very civilized sport with a firm set of “do and do not” rules centered around etiquette. With steel tip darts, each player or team is responsible for writing their scores on a whiteboard. If an outside person (ie: someone not playing the match, writes the score on the board, that person is called a chalker. A chalker is expected to be good at a couple of things: math, standing still, and not screwing up a player’s turn). I am a good chalker and I have been told that several times.
The first event on Saturday was 4-man. Each team has four players (all male for the men, all female for the ladies). I was cheerleading for the ladies’ 4-man team that I was on since playing was out of the question. Meaning I was sitting in a chair giving them fist bumps and telling them “good shots” or “shake it off”, whatever was needed. As the scores got lower, the other team made a mistake on their math. This happens to all of us… nobody is perfect 100% of the time. The next player, one of my team mates, began her throw. At this point, with the score wrong, the polite and correct procedure is to just say “hey, our score is wrong” and fix it after the player finishes their throw. Instead, these ladies walked up to the whiteboard mounted right next to the dart board and began changing their score while my team mate was attempting to throw. It obviously screwed her darts up as it was unexpected and weird for there to suddenly be four people standing just a foot away from where she was intending for her darts to land.
It was a complete breach of everything dart players consider polite. They had already made several math errors and another etiquette error, so at that point, I did the only thing I could do… I offered to chalk for the 8 ladies. Chalking not only speeds up the game, but it means nobody has to walk up to do anything other than pull their darts… Meaning they wouldn’t be interrupting my team mates throwing any longer. This meant standing as still as possible at a whiteboard for a serious duration of time – approximately 45 minutes or so. By the time the match finished, my hip was killing me. I was limping again, something I haven’t done in a few weeks. And the front of my hip, where it connects my leg and torso was swollen… The thing was, it wasn’t just some minor swelling. It was enough that as I changed into my pajamas for bed that night, my husband noticed and commented on it and my underwear had left a deep impression in the flesh. The tramadol didn’t even take the edge off the pain, even when I mixed it with 650mgs of Tylenol.
Which brought me to my next realization: I was misdiagnosed. I went to the ER with severe hip pain and come home with a diagnosis of a urinary tract infection. When I had to return to the ER a week later, I was told it was sciatica. The first nurse practitioner I saw never even lifted my leg up off the table to see my range of motion. The second one didn’t either. As a matter of fact, none of them even examined the front of my hip. No one touched me. No one looked at it. No one checked to see how far my hip would open. No one. Instead, they flagged me as drug seeking because I asked for Toradol because I knew it would relieve the immense swelling in my hip and I can’t take NSAIDS orally, only by injection or IV. Yet both times, I told them I had pain in my hip socket and it was in the front and deep in the socket.
My pain management doctor did much better. He moved my leg and realized my range of motion was not as it should be, not by a long shot. He gave me injections and they helped. Until I picked Jude up for the first time and then it felt like I had been hit by a car. Since then, I am still in pain all the time. There is still a constant ache in it. However, the only thing I have been told to do to treat it is take 4,000mgs of acetaminophen a day… and then told not to do that and given a prescription for Tramadol and told to take the Tylenol and the Tramadol together every 6 hours. For the most part, this doesn’t even take the edge off the pain. It constantly throbs and aches. Days like yesterday and today, the pain is back to a severe stabbing pain… but there’s no point in going to see anyone because I’ve been flagged as drug seeking.
What’s the point of taking the Tramadol if it doesn’t help the pain anymore than taking Tylenol does? Or taking either one since even together I get no relief. So, I will resume suffering and seeking a better solution… I haven’t a clue what that would be, but there has to be something that can be done for it.
On to Lola. I’ve mentioned before that Lola has been taking the packing for the move pretty intensely. It bothers her and we are all very aware of it. None of us expected our departure on Friday to cause her a crisis. From Friday until we arrived home tonight, Lola didn’t hardly eat a thing. She vomited every day. Mom said she was very morose and didn’t want to play. Thankfully, when we did finally get home, she seemed to perk up. She ate dinner, she wanted to play with both the Husband and I. There was also no vomiting after she finished eating, which seems to be an improvement according to Mom.
Which means packing some of Lola’s stuff with ours didn’t help and leaving her home alone is probably going to be a disaster in these final days as we finish packing.