Okay. This is bad. I may have really screwed this up. I know they say that, the week before your wedding, you really need to wrap yourself in cotton wool. You’re not supposed to do anything out of the ordinary, don’t take any chances that could potentially enhance your stress level. Believe me, nobody likes a bride-zilla. Especially me. Which is why I never thought I was at risk of becoming one, but oh boy, I did not account for this.
One of my cousins, who I guess is really not the sharpest tool in the shed, is taking this amazing dry needling course in Melbourne. She has been a physiotherapist for many years and only now is starting to branch out into new territory for treating patients.
In fact, I was the person who recommended the course to her, since one of my closest doctor friends did it. Anyway, when I complained to Suzie (my cousin) that I was feeling a little tense in the lead up to the wedding, she asked if she could practice her dry needling on me. Why not? I thought. What could go wrong?
I guess I probably jinxed myself a little bit there, since everyone knows the moment you even think the sentence ‘what could go wrong?’ something always does. The session started off alright, but about half way through, I felt a bit of a pinch in my lower back. I thought nothing of it until she explained that the dry needling courses only start in September. She had actually only received one lesson of practice.
When I woke up the next morning, my lower back was throbbing with a dull ache. I figured it was minor and would pass with time. A few days later and it still tender.
How am I supposed to marry Andrew in three days if I can’t lift my arm to accept his ring? This is a disaster! How on earth did I convince myself that this was a good idea? I’ve called my friend, Cathy, one of the best dry needling experts in the country, but she isn’t due to fly in until the day before the wedding. Fingers crossed that she can work her magic on my back and have me ready for the big day.