DooDoo Charlie the Horse

The daddy of all charlie horses paid me a visit this morning.  It wasn't exactly a social call either.

I feel like he may have been hired to get rid of me, but decided it would be fun to torture me instead.

A Brief History:

• I've had many charlie horses in my younger life
• Mom, thankfully, taught me how to deal with them. Toes to the nose!
• I've been nipping them in the bud ever since, and as such, haven't had a full on leg cramp of any kind in several years

Now back to my story.

So there I was, laying in bed, dead to the world.

Not so dead that I didn't know I was turning over, but dead enough for it to not be a conscious decision to do so.

That is when DooDoo Charlie the Horse, as I have come to call him, struck, by plunging a jagged knife deep into my calf muscles.  I didn't even have time to respond! I tried so hard to flex my foot towards my face and relieve the pain, but his grip on my leg was too intense.  I couldn't move my foot for anything, and my fat belly got in the way of physically grabbing it.

I was trapped.

I gasped, wimpered, moaned, cried, held my hands over my mouth while trying to breath steady and keep from screeching (it was THAT bad), and finally screamed for Darren so he could move my foot for me (though not loud enough...he was up getting ready for work, and too far out of hearing. However, I didn't want to panic him and make him think I was having way too early labor pains or something, so I wasn't willing to holler any louder.)

After almost TWO MINUTES of pulsing pain that radiated to my entire lower leg, it finally began to relax.  When I felt like the timing was right, I started to bend my foot towards my face, chanting "Toes to the nose!" the whole time.

Darn it if DooDoo Charlie the Horse wasn't just waiting for Round Two.

Round Two was just as bad as Round One, though it only lasted about a minute this time. 

So then I thought, "At least I can get my leg off my support pillows.  It will feel more comfortable laying flat on the mattress."

Round Three.

Repeat effort to move leg off pillows.

Round Four.

After my leg relaxed from Four, I finally wrenched my body like a pretzel and just ripped the pillow out from under my leg and let it land on the mattress.

And there I lay, feeling like a washed up piece of seaweed (weird image, but I wasn't exactly feeling tip top mentally or physically).  I didn't move for several minutes and when I did was finally able to point my toes at my nose, but by then there was no use for it. The damage was done, and my calf muscles were done for.  Flexing my foot only made me more aware of how sore those muscles had become.

And naturally, that is when Darren finally came into the room to say goodbye before heading to work.

He said he thought he'd heard his name, but decided it was in his head.

Next time DooDoo Charlie the Horse tries to get me, I will be yelling much louder.

I don't care if it makes him think I'm in labor.