As we get older, it’s harder to keep our bodies moving smoothly. When I finished college and started working, I noticed that my knees creaked every time I bent them.

In the past few months I’ve noticed this more-than-irritating crick that keeps coming back in my neck.

And as time rolls on, I see that it is becoming increasingly difficult to do the tasks that seemed minimal a few years ago.

As if the natural weakening of the body weren’t enough, I pulled a real doozie on myself two weeks ago.

I stopped by my house to pick up some checks on my lunch break before going to a funeral. My husband asked if he needed to come in with me and in my naturally sarcastic way I said, “Nope, I think I can handle it.”

Well little did I know!

I gathered some trash that had been collecting at my feet in the truck and walked in to the house with both hands full.

We have four steps down to our living room, and as I took the second step, my feet flew out from under me and my tail end landed right on the third step.

Without even thinking I jumped back up, full of adrenaline, and ran to the garbage to dump the trash from my hands. I took two more steps and collapsed on our love seat, face down.

My legs were numb and the pain radiating from my tailbone was excruciating, to say the least.

I lay their for about a minute before I could breathe again. I seriously sounded like a woman trying to give birth. It was almost impossible to breathe.

I then realized that the only way to get help was to get up and walk across the living room, up the four stairs out of the house, up the three stairs on the front porch and down the two on the other side of the porch. I made it to the front door, and by this time tears are streaming down my face. I didn’t want him to see me crying and I sure didn’t want to look like a sissy, so I looked away from the car, made one last attempt to clear the tears off of my face and walked as quickly as my legs would allow to the truck.

I opened the truck door and as soon as I tried to speak, tears rushed out of my eyes and I blurted out, “I think I just broke my butt.” I pulled myself in the truck and by the time I turned back around he was standing there, hugging me and asking if I was alright. No, no I was not alright. He ran inside and got the checks we had originally gone to the house to get and we headed toward the funeral.

He kept asking if we needed to go to the doctor’s office, but I kept thinking the pain would ease up and it wouldn’t be as bad as I thought it was.

After a rather confusing ride to the funeral home consisting of me laughing uncontrollably while simultaneously crying uncontrollably, we finally arrived. I felt so ridiculous and so much pain when we got there that we literally walked in and turned around and walked right back out.

I then gave in and declared that we were going to a doctor because the pain wasn’t lessening at all.

After stopping at a couple of different “doc in the box” offices we found one that did X-rays and could see me right away.

After X-rays were done, the doctor came in the room and declared what we had been thinking. I had broken my tailbone, AKA, my coccyx. They gave me a shot for pain and the only comfort they could offer was that it was an incredibly painful break that takes and incredibly long amount of time to heal.

We were instructed to pick up my souped-up ibuprofen from the pharmacy and doughnut pillow and go home to relax until it got better.

Moms don’t get time to relax; managers don’t get time to relax; people don’t get time to relax. I knew this was going to be a tough diagnosis.

The first two days I was more than content to lay on the couch, because it was the only thing I could do without wanting to scream in pain. But by the third and fourth days, I was ready to be feeling better and I’m sure everyone around me was feeling the same way.

We have a saying in our family that you only get pity for medical conditions for three days. We have a three day max on pity, no matter what the ailment is.

Well my three days came and went and I was still stranded on the couch, watching the world go by.

Oh, don’t get me wrong, it was nice to put the incident on Facebook and read as everyone laughed at my “pain in the butt.” Can I just tell you how much it hurts to laugh with a broken tail bone? It didn’t matter, my friends and family have been making me laugh over this incident for two weeks now.

I really had no idea that the tailbone was affected by laughing, coughing, sneezing and talking. Quite literally, it hurt to breathe sometimes.

But I am truly blessed to be surrounded by people who not only laugh at me while I’m down, but also help me along the way to recovery. Through all of the booty jokes, there have been several people who have made dinner for my family, stopped by with lunch and called or messaged to check on me. Really, it has shown me that there are people who are really there for me, even if I do something as silly as breaking my butt bone.

Yes, I have embarrassed a few friends by making them walk into restaurants with me while holding my doughnut pillow. And yes, I have shouted “Oh my word!” in pain, at the top of my lungs after sneezing at work. But I am getting better every day.

So if you see me hobbling around town, it’s OK to laugh and make fun of me. I admit that it is a hilarious injury, but remember, it hurts to laugh, so I’m giving up a piece of my comfort just to be able to laugh with you... at me.

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