Raul left the room and I tried unsuccessfully to climb back onto the table. I fell to my knees. The searing pain in my spine was completely crippling me. I was nauseous and couldn't see straight. The room was spinning. I rolled onto my side and grunted, making the least feminine sound I have ever made in my entire life. I didn't want to move from this spot.
Andrea wasn't sure what to do when she got the call. She phoned Miranda's doctor's office and they said she would need to be seen before they could prescribe anything. Until then, they advised rest, an over-the-counter muscle relaxant, and alternating heat and ice.
When Andrea arrived, I was feeling a little bit better, but I was afraid to move from the spot on the floor. Raul offered to lift me back onto the table or a chair, but seeing that I was finally able to take a deep breath and not feel sick to my stomach from the pain, I decided to stay put for a while longer.
How did I injure my back, I thought to myself. I wasn't doing anything strenuous. I hadn't lifted anything heavier than a shopping bag in the past few weeks. In fact, I spent most of my days sitting in very expensive Herman Miller chair, known for its superior ergonomics in a sleek design.
Before my thoughts went much further, Andrea sat on the ground next to me. "Your doctor wants to see you. I've arranged for him to make a house call, that is, if you will be able to make it home. Otherwise, you will need to go to the emergency room," she said. She whispered something to Raul and he quickly returned with an ice pack.
"I'm going to put some ice on your back to see if that helps the pain. Hopefully this will help enough to get you up off the floor," she added. "How's this?"
I shook my head. The pain was about eight inches lower.
"Here?"
"No. Lower," I choked out.
She applied the ice to the lowest part of my back and I gasped. She held it there for a few minutes, and I was extremely grateful that after nine months, the girl learned to keep quiet. Had she asked me if I could move, I would have bitten her head off. It would not have been pretty.
"Is the ice helping at all? Can you feel the cold?" she asked quietly after about five minutes.
"I don't know," I said.
She stood for a minute, then returned. "I'm going to help get some pants on you. I think this towel is too thick and you're not getting the benefit of the ice," she explained.
Before I could protest, I felt her carefully slipping my feet through a pair of cotton pants. She slid them up to my upper thigh, then paused. "Can you—?" she hesitated.
I reached down and once again felt a shooting, searing pain in my spine. "Aaagh," I grunted, quickly pressing myself up and onto all fours. Andrea reached around and secured the drawstring waist while I struggled to catch my breath.
"I brought a black zip-up jacket—do you need help with this?" she asked, holding the offending garment out.
"Athleisure, Andrea?" I asked, rolling my eyes.
She sighed and smiled. "You don't know how happy I am to hear you say that. I was worried for a minute," she said with a chuckle. "But yes, this is athleisure and will be perfectly acceptable attire to wear when exiting your health club to return home," she said, back to being all business.
I tried pushing myself up to my knees, but the angle was all wrong and pain shot through my back again. She must have seen my struggle, because I felt her gently supporting under my arms, helping me to stand on my feet without changing the bend in my back.
"I'll just step outside for a minute," she said, leaving the jacket on the table beside me.
I quickly unclasped the towel and let it drop to the ground. It was a bit of a challenge to get my left arm inside the jacket, but I managed, and when she walked in, I was just zipping it up.
"Here," she said as she set a pair of slip-on athletic shoes at the ground by my feet. "Will you be able to walk out of here?"
"I think so," I said, stepping into the shoes. The pain hadn't really gone away, and it's not that one position or another was any more or less painful. Somehow, I just managed to deal with it enough to leave the building in a semi-respectable state.
I was grateful that the club had a secured, indoor parking facility. After slowly making my way to the car, leaning heavily on Andrea's offered arm, I realized that getting into the backseat of the car would be torturous. Andrea must have seen my concern, because she suggested that I sit in the front seat if it would be easier.
I considered it, but knowing the ride to the townhouse could be over thirty minutes with rush hour traffic, I knew it would be more difficult to reposition myself if I were in the front seat. I stood there, staring at the back seat, trying to imagine how I would get inside without too much additional pain.
"You were okay on your hands and knees, right?" Andrea asked. I nodded, and she quickly climbed into the back seat and reached out her hand. "Come on," she said.
I took a deep breath and reached for her hand, surprised at her strength. I was able to climb onto the backseat without too much difficulty. She slid across the seat to allow me more room, and were it not for the shooting pains, I would have thought more of the sudden nearness to the young woman.
"Do you have any pain pills at home?" Andrea asked.
"Yes. I don't know how old they are or what the dosage is, but they're in the upstairs closet, in a plastic storage container on the top shelf," I explained. "I don't think I will be able to make it upstairs."
"Would you rather go to the emergency room now?" she asked.
I shook my head. I wanted to go home, even if it meant writhing on the cold marble floor of the foyer. That gave me an idea. I twisted around in the backseat so I was laying on my back, my knees tucked up into my chest.
"Does that feel better?" Andrea asked.
"A little," I said, biting my lip to keep from grunting. My eyes fluttered open and I looked up into the sincerest brown eyes I had ever seen. In the flurry of activity, I didn't realize that my head was in her lap. "I'm sorry," I whispered, turning my head to the side and closing my eyes.
I felt her hand rest gently on my shoulder.
"Don't apologize. I wish there was something I could do to relieve your pain," she said, gently squeezing my arm.
We rode the rest of the way to the townhouse in silence, my head resting in her lap. I think we were both holding our breath, albeit for different reasons. She was wearing a short skirt, and her lap was radiating heat—that alone was enough to distract me from the throbbing in my lower back. When the car came to a stop in front of the townhouse, I heard her ask Roy if he could pull around to the garage in the rear just to be safe. She was always thinking of me—and I so appreciated that.
Turns out, it was more difficult to get out of the car than it had been getting in. But once I was on my feet, I made it through the garage and up the stairs into the house without too much pain.
Standing there in my living room, I felt a bit lost. I was always doing something, and my location was usually dependent on whatever it is that I was doing. Going over the book meant sitting at my chair in the corner. Reading the newspaper was an activity performed at the kitchen island. Watching something on the television screen put me in my corner of the leather sectional. But now, the only thing I had to do was deal with the pain pulsating through my back. And I hadn't ever done that before, so I couldn't figure out where I should be.
Enter Andrea. She set my bags in the foyer, then gently took my arm, pulling me from my thoughts. "Do you want to go upstairs and lay in bed? Or maybe a hot bath?" she asked. She must have seen my grimace at the suggestion of a bath, so she quickly added, "Or maybe you can lay on the sofa here with some ice?"
I nodded and walked over to the sofa, trying to determine the best position. I finally bit the bullet and sat down, holding my breath as I moved into a position that was not entirely uncomfortable—laying on my back with my legs up and draped over the high arm of the couch.
Once I was settled, I again felt the young woman staring at me with those sincere eyes.
"Stop looking at me," I muttered.
"Your eyes are closed! How can you even—?"
I grinned and heard Andrea laugh. I released the breath I had been holding. I liked the sound of her laugh, even her voice. There must be something about the tone—her unique timbre—that had a calming effect on my nervous system. There was really no other explanation for my unusual tolerance of her incessant chatter, and now the laughter—there had to be a scientific explanation.
"Keep talking to me," I heard myself say. I quickly bit my lip and feigned a bit of pain to hide my surprise at speaking those words aloud. I suddenly panicked—I hadn't said anything else aloud, had I? The rest of my thoughts evaporated as soon as she began to speak. She picked up the Times from the coffee table and began reading. It didn't matter that I had already read that story eight hours ago, her voice was a balm.
The next thing I knew, the doorbell chimed, and Andrea was walking a middle-aged man into my living room.
"Miranda, I'm Dr. Joseph Haller. I specialize in osteopathic medicine; I work with your physician Dr. Stevens, who called me earlier. Can you describe the pain?"
"I must have fallen asleep," I said, shaking my head. I twisted around to sit up and shake Dr. Haller's hand, but the pain in my back took my breath away.
"Can you show me where you're feeling that?" he said.
I pointed to an area on my lower back, in the center of my spine.
"I'm going to ask you to do a few different movements. I need to know if the pain lessens or worsens with any of this, or if it moves," he explained as he held his hand over the spot.
I nodded and took a deep breath as he asked me to lift my legs, bend, and twist in various positions. He commented on my flexibility and I had the good sense to keep my mouth shut and refrain from making a snide remark. However, my good sense failed when I glanced over at Andrea and saw the pinkness in her cheeks.
I should have been outraged that my employee was thinking about my certain flexibility, but her cheeks were the loveliest shade of coral I have ever seen. I knew that shades like that only occurred in nature, despite the entire makeup industry's attempts to capture that particular hue. I wanted nothing more than to touch my finger to those cheeks, to feel the heat beneath the skin. Would it be the same heat I felt in her lap?
"Aah!" I yelped. I don't know if I was just distracted or if the doctor's movement was actually painful, but nonetheless, it took my mind off of Andrea Sachs and her sex-flushed cheeks. I chuckled to myself—Nars should have me name their shades of blush.
"Miranda, without an MRI, I think this is discographic pain you're experiencing. Between each vertebrae, there is a disc that essentially acts as a cushion between the bones. When this disc becomes inflamed or damaged, it can press against the nerves, which typically causes a shooting or throbbing pain," he said.
"What is the treatment?" I asked.
"Rest—a lot of it, with ice. Then some physical therapy to strengthen your core muscles and help prevent future issues," he said.
"No medication?"
"I can give you some medication for the pain, but it will not help you heal any quicker. It will only make you more comfortable. I've seen patients rely too heavily on the pain medication, and actually injure themselves further because they didn't feel the pain, signaling them to rest," he said.
I rolled my eyes.
"For you, because you asked so nicely, I am going to give you some strong muscle relaxants and pain medication—I want you to take these every six hours for the next two days. After that, only use the pain medication as needed."
I am not sure where Joseph Haller got the audacity to speak to me like that, but the promise of medicated relief made me ignore his words. I waited impatiently for him to write the prescription on his pad. When he was finished, Andrea showed him out and returned to the living room where I was sitting.
"I can go get this filled for you," she said.
I handed over slip of paper and tried to think of anything besides that shade of pink on her cheeks that had now faded. "My insurance cards are probably upstairs in my desk drawer," I said before she left.
She turned her head and looked at me in confusion.
"I don't carry them with me every day."
"I know that," she said. "I have an electronic copy of your card on my phone—all of your cards, actually."
"Oh." I was stunned. My assistants really did that? "Well, I don't know why you're standing here, then. Go," I said, waving her off with a flick of my wrist.
Once I heard the door close behind her, I stood from the couch, tentatively stretching my back to see what would or wouldn't be painful. There was a constant throbbing, but it was tolerable—nothing like what I experienced earlier at the club. I wanted to change out of this athleisure clothing, so I began to head upstairs. Andrea would certainly be able to find me when she returned, and by then, I might even be back downstairs.
I was about halfway up the first flight of stairs when I felt it—a searing, precise pain in the center of my spine. I fell to my knees. I couldn't breathe—the pain had literally taken my breath away. I sat perfectly still for several minutes until I was able to take a deep breath. Actually, I wasn't seated, maybe sprawled across the stairs was a better way to describe it. Carefully, I pushed myself up, only to fall to the stairs once again, grateful for once that the first flight of stairs were carpeted.
I was only about six stairs from the second floor. If I could only make my way there, I could at least lay flat, maybe rest enough to get back up. My body wasn't cooperating. I decided to close my eyes and count to twenty, then I would try again.
Finally, I bit the proverbial bullet and pushed through the pain, making my way to the second floor and over to the chair in the hallway. Well, not actually to the chair. To the floor in front of the chair, to be precise. I had worked up a sweat through all the struggle, so I partially unzipped the jacket and cuffed up the sleeves as I looked longingly down the hall at my bedroom door.
Before I could settle on a course of action, I heard the front door open. "Miranda?" she called.
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TBC - let me know what you think!