Substantial progress toward better things can rarely be taken without
developing new evils requiring new remedies.
William Howard Taft
This picture of the collegiate dammit doll, that does not always
successfully assist my beloved Georgia Bulldogs with a win,
is looking more and more like a potential
voodoo doll as I am just about at that point…
To the point that if I rip off said left leg of dammit doll,
will my own left leg feel any better??
So I went for my little nerve block yesterday…the one I had high hopes for.
Arriving a tad early, they finally called me back to the procedure room.
I had to hop up on the table and was instructed to lay on my stomach
as the cute young assistant pulled my tee shirt up to my head
and my shorts down to my keister while she proceeded to place the
sterile papers on my back in such a fashion that only a sectioned portion of my back was exposed.
She then rubs me down with betadine, alcohol and whatever else she had on that tray.
The doctor comes in donning a lovely lead gown complete with a lead apron for his neck.
I cock to my head to the right to see that the little assistant is now donning
her own cute polka dotted lead gown with matching neck guard as they were both
making darn certain their thyroids were covered up from the x-rays
they’d be using on my back during the procedure.
I didn’t have a lead guard for my thyroid…
maybe cause I was on my stomach or maybe they just knew
that my thyroid was already too far gone to be concerned with.
I explained that the drilling pain in my back and hip had subsided
but that there was now an excruciating burning pain in my inner thigh
and groin with the top of my thigh being totally numb.
“Hummmm, that’s odd…”
Not a reassuring comment from my young tall, just recently married, Asian doctor.
I asked the doctor if this little shot business was instantaneous and he couldn’t exactly say.
He says the goal is to get rid of the pain…
Yes that is my goal as well.
“How will you know where to shoot in order to help these oh so fiery nerves of mine” I ask
“Will the X-ray show that?”
“Oh no, the x-ray just let’s me see the spine, but from what you tell me I might
need to shoot higher.”
Great.
The reason they did a MRI was because they couldn’t see the two bulging discs on the x-ray—
so now he thinks an x-ray is going to steer him straight….?
Like I say,
Great.
As they position the x-ray machine, letting it fire off for an image, they both step back.
I begin feeling a little like Typhoid Mary as they keep taking steps back to a safe distance…
Them in their lead gowns and guards and me in my jacked up tee shirt,
jacked down gym shorts and tennis shoes.
“you’re going to feel a pinch.” he tells me.
Try more like a skewer has just been threaded deep into your back.
My fists clinch as the little beep beep monitor on my finger lets all present know
that I am now in pain.
With each x-ray blast, each step back, each skewering, lidocaine and steroids are injected
deep into my back
“Do you feel the steroid going in, feeling it down in your leg?”
“No”
“Hummm.”
I did however feel not so good.
Kind of heavy in a weird way and now my neck was hurting from being cocked backwards…
herniated discs there as well, but that’s for another day.
They x-ray and skewer me several more times before they finish.
And just like that, my tall, recently married, lead covered Asian doctor leaves the room.
The assistant slaps a small band-aid on my back and tells me to go home, sit with
my feet and legs elevated, no lifting, no cooking…just rest.
“Watch for any white liquid coming from the holes”…leaking spinal fluids I fear,
as she adds “no showering for 12 hours”…
I sit up on the table as I ask her how long it would be till I could tell any difference.
“possibly tomorrow, but give it a week.”
A week???
A freaking week?????
UGH!!!
I get up and go out to my waiting husband…
Who’s looking ever so hopeful—
“How do you feel?”
“Let’s just say that the pain that I came in with, is now going out with us.”
“Add to that a sore back like I’ve just been beaten.”
He takes me home, helps gets me situated and tells me not to worry about supper, he’ll
pick something up.
I tell him, no, that I can cook as I feel no different, but my back is just sore as hell.
I sit on an ice pack for about 30 minutes when I say to hell with this.
My leg still feels like crap and I was now mad.
I started getting supper ready, slamming every drawer and door in my wake.
I went out to start the grill, still slamming and bamming.
My husband comes home to find me in the throws of the tears of utter frustration.
I fall into his arms sobbing that first it was dad, now it was me…
He tells me that we’ll go to the clinic down in Columbus but I sob that
between all the doctors I’ve been to in the past month, between both me and dad…
I’m done…
We’ve seen…
Primary care physicians, his and mine.
Urologists,
Gastroenterologists,
Oncologists,
Radiologists,
Orthopedic surgeons..
everyone’s PAs
CT scans,
Cystoscopes,
Surgeries
x-rays
MRIs
Nerve Blocks
Hospice
you name it, dad and I have done it all… starting late August.
I am done for a while…
When it was finally time for bed, I decided I’d take half a pain pill.
I have amassed a small arsenal of prescriptions that each and every doctor and PA has prescribed…
with me forgoing all of them as they have been various drugs from hell—
sedatives, pain meds, anti-inflammatory meds, nerve meds…
none which have been the first bit helpful, curative, let alone safe with me driving
back and forth literally every other day to dads…
I take only half of the hydrocodone as a whole pill will keep me up and wired for hours.
Hopefully half will help.
At 3AM with my eyes never having actually shut and with sleep now long elusive,
my mind frantically racing, I pondered how in the hell people could
ever get addicted to these things as they only make me wild and
ready to go run a freaking marathon.
I ponder the current affairs of the world.
I’m thinking that in my current mood and state of mind that I could
be put in a room with both Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton
and could knock some sense into both of them,
or better yet,
I could knock them both silly.
I was ready to take on Basher Assad, Kin Jong Un, Vladimir Putin and all of ISIS combined.
It was a ‘don’t mess with me’ moment to be sure in the wee hours of the morning…
all the while as my leg was on fire…
which got me singing Alicia Keys’ “this girl is on fire” in my head at 3AM…
I was relieved at first light…the mental madness would now come to an end as
the day and fire of leg would resume..
So, it’s back to square one…whatever square that is….
With the thought of me finding a nudist colony as the whole pants thing is not working
for my leg…
I’ll keep you posted at to what I find…
I will praise you, Lord my God, with all my heart;
I will glorify your name forever.
For great is your love toward me;
you have delivered me from the depths,
from the realm of the dead.
Psalm 86:12-13
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