This past Friday evening, I was nursing some back muscle spasms the result of yard work. Nevertheless, my wife, Gerry and I traveled to Chatham, Illinois to see our grandson's baseball team and hook up with daughter Pam and her husband, Tim, along with our son, Steve, his wife Kathy, granddaughter, Shannon and a great granddaughter, Juniper.
After the game, we all gathered at Mario's Italian Restaurant for dinner. The food was delicious, the company great but the muscle spasms unrelenting. After dinner, my wife offered to drive the 50- miles back to Decatur. I immediately accepted her offer. I could thus avoid any driving stress, turn on the seat heat and recline the passenger chair for calm relaxation. So much for that mythical dream. We were backing out of the parking space when my wife said she didn't know if she was going in the right direction to get to the frontage road. I slowly lifted myself upward just in time to notice our auto was going the 'wrong' way through a drive thru-pick up window. One on-coming driver moved aside for us. The look on that driver's face was sheer bewilderment and fear.
We finally got to the Interstate when I noticed a sudden swaying of the vehicle from left to right. I opened my eyes to see Gerry adjusting side and rear view mirrors ten miles into the trip. I eased gingerly back into my warm seat not noticing any spasm relief. Five more minutes into our journey, the car is slowing and speeding, slowing and speeding. Again, I sat up to see what was the matter. My wife is attempting to set the speed control to little avail.
The spasms finally eased once I got out of the auto, took a muscle relaxer and laid on a heating pad. Sometime during the night, my wife said to me, "I think I need to drive more because I'm getting a little rusty. I said nothing but pretended to be asleep.
No comments:
Post a Comment