On a Dare

I'm going to rage and rile and shake an angry fist at predetermined destiny!  So there.  

I'm doing really well, I'm amazed at modern medicine on the whole.  I mean, I'm bolted together right!? How crazy is that?  But here's the deal, I'm not screwed together any more than someone with a bad leg or arm break.  I mean, it was touch and go last year when I broke my wrist if they weren't going to go bolt that mess back together.  I believe I will regain my strength, confidence and ability and so does my neurosurgeon.  My doctor said I can ride my damn horses in another six months and come hell or high water, I am going to do that!   And if I want to surf or dance or run a marathon (which I assure you, I do not) I will give it a shot.  I mean really, I can almost walk downstairs now like a grown up, that's just shy of guiding a 1200 lbs horse over a dozen 3 foot obstacles, right?  Maybe I'll take up Dressage instead though...by my choice. Low level, posting trot dressage. I'm going to live through this and when it's all over, I'll never be hungry again.  OK, rant over (brought to you courtesy of reading too many negative internet posts... Really I need to stop doing that!)

Today was my last physical therapy appointment.  Beginning of the year, new insurance deductible.  So, PT would be 100% out of pocket again, I just can't afford it or more accurately I do not want to afford it.  Ugh, this whole mess is expensive!  Anyway, I have a progression for the next month of excercises so I think I'll be good.  I'm walking an hour everyday, so that's 14 miles a week or more impressively over 700 miles a year!  That's to Denver and back!  If I start now...

We had a nice Christmas.  We sort of do our own thing, I made giant soft pretzels, shortbread cookies, and then orange tofu for dinner (no, not on a dare, it's actually really good).  Hubby played guitar and we enjoyed a stress free day lounging about.  I decided I want to make my own soap, so we ordered some organic, free range, food grade soap supplies.  I mean, why not?  It sounds fun!  

Holiday Schedules Rock. Unfortunately, I Don't....

I started work!  Half days but its nice to be back and have a reason to wear makeup again!  Friday was my first day back, as expected huge computer problems...they took my computer off the network because I've been gone so long.  Sounds simple to fix but trust me, anytime IT gets involved, you're doomed.  My name is still on the door and I still have the keys to my company truck so I guess I haven't been fired, so that's good.  Everyone has been really nice to me, one of the shop managers brought me a lovely Norfolk Pine decorated with little wood ornaments as a welcome back gift.  I was back on Friday, weekend off.  Worked Monday 4 hours, Christmas Eve and Christmas off, work 2 days then the weekend off, then New Years Eve and New Year's day off.  Not a bad way to get back into the working groove!  

I've been sitting on a big red excercise ball at work.  I think it makes our claims guy nervous, he looked uncomfortably at it and offered me a chair. Aahhmmm, no... I promise I won't just fall over and file a claim against the Company, it's all good.  Anyway, I was feeling a lot more acheyness in my back over the weekend, not pain just a general awareness that my back felt different, even at night.  Just a soreness.  I couldn't figure out why because I haven't done anything differently that I could think of.  

I went to my PT appointment today and told him about my generally acheyness, after some thought and discussion he said its probably my big red excercise ball. The continuous rebalancing for the 45 minutes or so I sat before getting up and staggering about was probably the cause.  Hmm, ok I can accept that explaination.  He said I could still use it but get up more frequently. 

Well, that's the news. I hope everyone has a Merry Christmas.  I'll be busy baking something, crocheting, or butchering a much loved guitar classic!

Up and about with the new guitar.

Promises to Bones and Body

I had my third post op and actually got to see the neurosurgeon.  I haven't seen him since before the surgery, the first and second post ops were with his Physician's assistant...if that's what PA stands for.  People sure love their acronyms.  Like STD....that's short term disability.  Love, love, love emailing my boss to talk about my STD.   Anyway, I was glad to see my surgeon wasn't in jail and hadn't left the country.  He will be out for the holidays so this was his last day before his vacation.  The office was packed, we noticed a lot of people had some type of limp just like me.  We looked like a herd of lame mules, the girl next to me had the same surgery as me and similiar nerve damage. Guess they go hand in hand.  

Anyway, this is going to sound stupid but I really didn't know what part of the bone they sawed off.  Yes, I know this is a pre op question but I was so loaded up on drugs and in pain when I talked to the surgeon pre op I can't remember much of the conversation.  Hubby said he talked about it but all I remember was reherniation, surgical options, and me crying.  So they showed me again on the model spine that it was the dorsal fin looking part.  I'm not a doctor, I don't play one on TV and I don't  feel like googling it so I look educated, so that's what I'll call it.  The screws I was worried about are in the right place, I was assured if they were wrong the would have fixed it during the surgery, they checked it prior to stapling me back up.  So that was good news too.  And best of all, they saw some bone growth action!  Yeah bones!  Grow!  He was happy with my progress and said that there was not too much I could do to screw up my healing.  No horseback riding yet, no yoga downward dog, no eliptical, use good body mechanics and listen to my body.  Don't power through pain, respect it telling me to slow down.  I think I can do that.  And finally I am released to work part time!  I hope all my office plants aren't dead. I asked others to water them but that was a long time ago.  

Let's talk medication.  I have quit taking all medication and I told the doctor's office that prior to doing it.  She asked why I quit taking Gabapentin but didn't say take it.  Its been a month or so drug free.  The neurosurgeon said I should still be taking it because it can help with nerve repair.  Huh, well that's interesting.  So back on that.  My left foot feels icky when it's touched, it doesn't like shoes and socks or me touching it.  It's like when you're swimming and seaweed touches your foot, it's so weird icky gross.  It's like that, maybe the Gabapentin will help with the strange numbness but hypersensativity that seems to be going on.  

My back feels great, I'm just really happy about that.  I can sit, stand, walk (ok a little limpy),  sleep, like a normal human.  My main complaint is the hip pain and inflammation and nerve damage, but nerves grow about an inch a month so they're doing that, and I'm working on stretching and strengthening my hips.  Keep my weight correct, stay active, use proper body mechanics, that's what I have control over.  I vow I WILL NOT allow work and life stress to make me sacrifice my health and fitness.  I say that now, publicly and in bold.  Let's see if I'm a liar in 6 six months.   

Detecting a Pattern

So, I am not back at work yet.  I misunderstood what my doctor said and thought I was released for part time so that's what I told my boss, my boss's boss, and of course that was relayed to the AVP and VP.  Because if you're going to give wrong information you want it to go straight to the top!  Anyway, I go back to the Neurosurgeon tomorrow and we'll see where we're at.  Maybe I'll make it back before years end.  What is awesome is I have 3 weeks of vacation still. By awesome I mean the opposite of awesome.  I can hardly say "hey, I'm back!  Going on vaykay, see ya next year!". I can carry one week over but we have a use it or lose it vacation policy.  Ah well, I guess this time off has been like a vacation....in hell.  And here's a lovely photo by the lake of fire...

I'm going to physical therapy twice a week now.  My back feels fine, I mean like almost normal fine but the nerve damage has caused some issues!  I drove a clutch today, I managed to not strip the transmission but it was hard to push the clutch in with my bummer leg.  That's what I'm just going to call it.  Hi, I'd like you to meet Bummer Leg, it's not useless it just acts like everyday is Monday morning.  It works but only gives 20%.  Anyway, I did left leg presses at PT and when I went to stand up my leg just collapsed.  No pain, just total muscle failure. I didn't fall, thankfully saved by hubby! Hmmm, still so weak.  And stiff still.  I'm doing a ton of at home exercises and yesterday walked a full hour at once in the treadmill, first time!  So I'm thinking I'm super fit!  Yet again, I'm wrong!  I'm detecting a pattern here.  

OK, now it's fascinating trivia time.  Horses can develop a pattern on their coats, a dappling of light and dark called, ironically enough, dappling.  They aren't completely sure what causes it but blood flow has been identified as a contributing factor.  It's lovely! I have a dapple grey and the less romantically named flea bitten grey who was dappled in his horsey youth.  "What?  Why?  I don't understand the point of this educational piece of equine information." you might be saying.  Your confusion isn't misplaced, but this story does circle back to me.   I have spent a lot of time with a heating pad on my back.  It's nice and warm, it's winter and I feel like it keeps my back muscles more relaxed.  I have developed dapples on my back where I put the heating pad.  They are there all the time now.  Like horsie dapples, I have no doubt they'll fade with time.  My dear hubby did not seem impressed when I yelled "look at me!  I'm a pretty pony!  Pretty! Pretty!".  He seemed a bit, umm let's go with the word cautious with his enthusiasm.  Not every man has a lovely dappled wife, so I don't know what the problem is.  Maybe I should quit whinnying.  

My dapple grey, Rome for reference.  He's chasing a bird.  

Lightning and Vortexes and Bursitis, Oh My!

Well, overall things are progressing fine with limited (however not nonexistent) tales of drama. 

As its been awhile since my last riveting update, let's go back a bit.  I had my second post op on 11/26.  I was hoping to see the neurosurgeon but he wasn't around, I haven't talked to him since before my surgery.  I had a substitute neurosurgeon talk to me in the hospital because mine had to go out of town right after surgery.   To me, the screws look like they are sticking through my spine, I noticed that when I first saw my post op X rays while still in the hospital and was hoping for some head patting and hand holding that it was fine...just fine...but I haven't had a chance yet to ask him about it.  I don't know what anyone would do about it now and I imagine if it were a crisis someone would have said something.  Anyway, it doesn't seem to be causing any pain and when I asked at this follow up I was told the surgeon looked at it and apparently panic did not ensue so...and it was sort of left there.  So, things look fine and I'm healing up.  I got to lose the Corset of Oxygen Deprivation and surprisingly my back feels much, much better without it.  I was worried I would be weak from wearing that brace for 6 weeks, but honestly I haven't noticed any additional weakness and I sleep better with less pain.  That was almost immediately after taking that thing off, so weird right?  

I guess my Type A wanted some hard and fast "do this, not that" directions.  That didn't happen.  I was told "live your life, just don't do anything stupid.  Don't worry about everything, you could get hit by lightning, you're young you'll be fine". Ummmm, ok.  I didn't know being struck by lightening was a potential side effect of surgery but I guess I am sporting more metal than previously.  Good news though, the metal is MRI compatible in case all hell breaks loose again.  

I started physical therapy today.  It appears I have tendinitis or bursitis in my left, numb hip.  So that accounts for that pain.  I have about a thousand stretchy exercises to do for that and hopefully it gets better.  He mentioned massages.  I could use a good massage, preferably with a nice facial and pedicure seeing as I still can't reach my feet.  I am seriously as stiff as a board.  

I'm still not working, I was released for part time by the doctor's office but I haven't been cleared by my company yet.  I don't know what is going on there but I was told they wanted me to start easy and not get "sucked into the vortex" potentially hampering my recovery.  Vortexes and lightning, the world is a dangerous place.  So while waiting I bake.  Cookies, pies, gingerbread houses, cakes, candy, breads, muffins.  What, what, what, am I going to do with it all?  It's just me and hubby here.... Baking keeps me from going insane so no one has tried to stop me yet.  As if they could. 

Here's the latest picture.  It looks like all the others only no staples and a reflection of my head above my hip bone.  Surreal.  

 

Move Along, Nothing to See Here

Well, the withdrawal symptom have worked themselves out, I'm taking the sleepy time Tylenol at night only and feel alright nearly medication free!  

I have been trying to balance activity with common sense, which is a challenge.  I really don't know how much walking, the only acceptable exercise, I should be doing.  I read a lot of online information and have found a great website with others going through the exact same things.  Anyways, some people are walking waaaaayyyy more than me.  I shoot for a minimum of an hour a day in several sessions on the treadmill  but some people are walking like 45 miles a day.  My damned competitive nature then kicks in and I end up in these imaginary competitions that no one else knows they are a part of.  So, I walked too far and too fast (yes, I kicked that baby up to 2 mph! Land speed record beware!). My hip.  Sweet lord, too much!  

Pain creates moderation.  True story.  I learned from that so I have slowed back down to a thoughtful 1 to 1.5 mph and feel much, much better!  The treadmill is not real life however.  Walking out and about is still surprisingly challenging.  We went grocery shopping and the hour spent there was much harder. I finally just said "I'm done" and sat out in the car.  People don't seem to understand they need to stay the hell away from me.  I can't spend the whole time yelling "Hey, crazy lady with the cart!  Watch where you are going!". I can't dodge the careless grocery cart drivers with the finesse of normal people.  And could we have more pot holes for the drive home, that would be awesome too.  

My sense of taste is slowly returning to normal and so I'm enjoying cooking again.  I'm sure I'm still using significantly less seasoning than normal but it's improving.  Standing to cook and bake is pretty tiring too though.  We have a hard, irregular tile kitchen floor.  It's lovely, but not cushy at all.  I make it about 45 minutes before I really need to take a break.  Not bad though!  

I hope I'm doing enough but not too much to optimize healing.... I was just told to walk but don't do anything that hurts or do too much.  Man, that is not very specific.  

What Fresh Hell is This?

I'm nearly a month out from the second surgery, all in all I was feeling fairly optimistic about the whole ordeal.  The key word in the previous sentence being was.  

I'm not a big pill popper as a rule, I generally skip pain medication, even aspirin so being on Gabapentin and Tramadol for months for pain is weird for me.  The main warning on both medications was not to quit suddenly or without doctor's oversight. I read on the Internet that there could be some nasty withdrawals from Tramadol so I asked and was told that it is a non narcotic and so it is not an issue.  I know any idiot with an opinion can post them as fact on the Internet so I chalked the withdrawal warnings up to that.  Funny story, sometimes the Internet is right.   

I have felt the pain meds were mostly gratuitous and asked about weaning off of them.  "No problem, stop them at your own pace" was the response.  So cool.  I went from 3 times a day down to 2 then at night only.  Three days ago I decided enough was enough and I quit taking all of them.  OK, what happened next was not expected.  Itchy, crawly, yuckiness.  Not much more pain, yes a bit more achey ness, more stiffness in the morning, and when standing up but not intolerable.  Oh, but the itching, bitching, moody, malaise that showed up...what the hell!   Oh, and the runny nose and desperate desire to sneeze every 5 seconds, just the frosting on the cake.  Sneezing hurts like you would not believe still, so I have spent much of the last several days doing the breathing I learned in Lamaze class 22 years ago to keep from sneezing and to recover if I do.  Lamaze breathing was nearly useless for labor in my experience but has proved useful time and again for other weird life events.  People should take the class even if they aren't pregnant.  Of course, you would probably get weird looks and awkward questions...

So, three days later I'm not quite as itchy (still damned itchy, but less), I definitely feel tired, teary, dreary blue with a latent desire to just kill something.  Oh, if I felt better I might be dangerous!  Not really, in real life I'm mostly bark...some bite but not fatal, to date anyway.  No withdrawal symptoms my ass.  

Twitchy Like a Meth Addict

You know how you perceive yourself versus how others perceive you, or as I like to call it "real life"?  I had thought of myself as being fairly laid back, come what may and I think I was when I was 20. I'm a long ways from 20 anymore and somehow In real life I have become a type A crazy person.  I stress about everything and tend to have unreasonably high expectation for myself. Cheerful huh? This reality has made me sad and I don't know how to calm the hell down.  

So what has caused this mild case of melancholy?  I expect I will be released to go back to work in December.  I work long hours, usually weekends, holidays, and I'm just keeping up...sort of. I found that the only thing that keeps me from working on vacation is going overseas where my work intranet won't accept my location for whatever reason and my work cell phone doesn't work.  I'm not working now because, interestingly enough, when I was prompted to change my password and changed it from home I got locked out of the system.  You can only change it while on the network.  The computer help desk told me "tough, go in to work and change it" but I can't because I'm on short term disability and not allowed on property.  I mean, they don't want me to take a header while on property and then try to hold them liable.  I wouldn't of course, but it must have happened.  

I know I cannot keep up my previous work schedule in a months time.  I am feeling good but I am slow and I get tired pretty quickly.  I'm feeling anxious of what the unspoken expectations will be.  And I don't know that my crazy type A personality "no excuses, just results" won't kick in and cause me to over do everything.  I can't screw up my recovery because I'm being an idiot though, so this stresses me out.  Ironically, stress also impedes your ability to heal so, great. 

On to other topics.  I'm happily chugging along on my treadmill, I am walking about 1 mile per hour now (which is twice as fast I was walking just a week ago) and I'm walking at least an hour, usually longer.  I don't think speed matters as much as the action of walking so a mile an hour is fast enough!  I don't want to go flying off the back of the treadmill, it's against the stairs so I would fall 2 floors before I hit the ground.  Certainly not conductive to the healing process!  I also found I can't play video games and walk, I rest on the console to keep my balance and it throws my weight off which hurts my hip.  It was almost a good idea!  

I'm baking again, so that makes me happy. Hubby is the official put it into and take it out of the oven guy, a dream job for him no doubt. I wish there was someway to turn that into a buck because I have tons of homemade bread and baking products stuffed into the freezer.  What are we going to do with all of it?  

I'm feeling good but still pretty stiff in the mornings, rolling over at night can hurt so I have to be careful and the tendon in my weird numb leg shortens up quick so I always have to be cautious the first few steps when I get up because my heel doesn't want to touch the ground (bizarre right?).   I have some achy-ness during the day but nothing even Tylenol worthy.   I'm doing great and feel like I'm recovering.  

I'm contemplating getting a tattoo to cover up my back scar, although I probably won't I'm still looking at them.  Maybe a Skinny Puppy thing in honor of my old Goth past!  We'll see see how gnarly the scar turns out.  What a strange and unexpected journey this has been! 

Hamster wheels

I am planning on changing topics rapidly and without warning.  I'm in one of those moods.  Please proceed with caution as I will not be held liable for whiplash while reading.  

To begin, I have been waxing nostalgic.  Well, not quite as romantic as that, I've been trying to remember when my back issues that ultimately led to my current situation began this year.  It was one of those gradual things, I've had some intermittent back pain on and off just like every other human on the planet and gave it as much thought as that.  Things changed though this year in that it didn't go away.  I went to chiropractors, made a standing workstation, changed my office chair out for an excercise ball, became one of those people who stand along the wall during long meetings, did yoga (not well though, pain in my back and leg had made me so stiff I couldn't even touch my knees.  Really.) and perhaps the most difficult change from a vanity standpoint, I quit wearing my cute shoes with heels and exchanged them for flats, yuck. I would wander around saying "why does my back still hurt, oh my aching sciatica". I was having problems sleeping and (shhhh, this part is a secret) plied myself liberally with libations after work.  The constant pain also didn't help with my inherent bitchyness.  That is in no way an insult to myself, I fully embrace my sarcastic nature, I think I'm funny. I believe now that disc went bad way before it knocked me in the head.  When you don't listen to your body, sometimes it will up the ante "how do you like me now?" 

I got a treadmill yesterday, I feel like a hamster on a wheel but I think it will be helpful.  I've been trying to walk between 30 and 60 minutes a day but it snowed on the 5th. I don't trust my balance, I can't catch myself with the outside of my left foot or toes.  Turns out you use your entire foot to not fall over, interesting right?  Anyway, that makes snow and ice really scary even with a cane.  So, I can set the speed and I'm actually slower than I thought.  I walk about .5 miles an hour.  So to walk a mile would take 2 hours.  What is that?  My daughter has always said I walk faster than anyone, my husband has said walking with me is like a death march.  I think they walk too slow, really I would like to get there before I die.  Well, no longer.  I am slow as molasses in January (ha, I thought throwing in a folksy colloquialism would be fun).  We got the treadmill new, we checked for used ones but the closest were a 4 hour drive away.  We looked online, WalMart had some that we're marked down 94% but when I tried to order it, it said NO!  Today, I saw on the news they weren't going to honor any of those great prices anyway because it was a mistake.  So, we went to the store and just bought one.  We have a pretty big house for 2 people but we stuffed it into the sitting room because that's where we hang out the most.  I think I can play video games and walk on it.  If I break an ankle, I guess I was wrong.  

I feel better every day and I think that is cool.  I am still stiff, the muscles in my lower back are still a bit fussy but not bad considering they were sliced apart, rolling over when I sleep is still a little dicey but a satin bottom sheet and a satin nightshirt is slick enough to help.  Sometimes I am afraid I'm just going to slip off the bed but that hasn't happened yet.  I feel better now than I did 6 months ago, long before surgery was even a thought.  You can talk about the good old days all you want, give me modern medicine and broad spectrum antibiotics any day.  I can't even imagine what people did 200 years ago, but the average lifespan was about 37 back then so I would have been dead already and it wouldn't have been a problem.  

Out of warranty

Well, tomorrow is my 44th birthday.  Last year this time I was recovering from a broken wrist.  This year I'm recovering from this back surgery drama.  I think my warranty ran out.

I've been out walking about, an hour yesterday!  I nearly made it a mile in that time frame which makes me slightly faster than a snail.  Good news, my back is feeling great!  My hip though, man oh man!  I feel like I'm 144, oh my aching hip... Those darn loose tendons, a passed on family trait that I didn't even know was a potential problem.  You're welcome current and future generations of me! 

I am still using a cane to walk but the walker has been unused, I'm about ready to give it back to its rightful owner.  Before you jump to conclusions, I did not mug a grandma and steal her walker.  Mainly because I think a grandma could still take me down.  It's my neighbor's on a legitimate loan...unless they notice it missing before I can get it back into their garage.  

Amazingly I am down to one prescription pain pill and two nerve pain pills a day already.  I was sure that the bone pain would be unbearable, but turns out not so much.  My back hurts so little that I can focus on my hip, my stiff wrist, and the fact that my whole head is still bruised from whatever they did to me during surgery.  I think they must have hit me in the head with bricks and staplers.  I need to ask what was happening during my surgery, maybe the nurse saw a spider and tried to kill it with my skull. Oh, the mystery!  

It's less than three weeks since surgery, and the improvement is amazing.  Let's compare pre-surgery with post surgery.

Pre: I was on enough pain medication to choke a water buffalo.  Post: almost off all medication

Pre: I was unable to walk correctly, stand upright or lay flat.  Post: walking and standing fine and able to sleep in bed with residual surgical pain only.

Pre: Leg and foot numbness from nerve damage.  Post: Same, but no worse.  

All in all, pretty happy with things so far.  Fingers crossed!  Only another 5 months 1 week, give or take until I should have a fusion!  I will be careful and follow doctors orders and hope for a good recovery!

Yes, it's sunny but cold!! I'm wearing 1000 layers and got too hot though!  

Gluttony and other deadly sins I miss

Confessions!  How great is that?  I confess that I have a propensity toward gluttony with a few select foods.  I am not joking.   Those foods are potatoes and marzipan.  Not together but, to be fair I never tried them together and it would probably be incredible.  I love potatoes, mashed, fried, baked, in salads named potato ( yes, I mean potato salad), boiled, microwaved, vodka'd.  I am not fussy, or so I thought.  I live in the middle of nowhere and marzipan is not readily available so it is not relevant to this story.  Oh, and I love Halloween.

Anyway, I will eat potatoes until I am laying on the ground, nearly sick and wondering why I keep doing this.  I apparently cannot be taught. "Is this rambling ode to the potato going anywhere?" you may be asking.  Well, nowhere important, but this is my story so I will continue.  As mentioned previously my sense of smell and taste is really messed up; chocolate, wine, anything with garlic or onion, anything with flavor...pretty much all food is terrible.  But the faithful potato?  I knew I would still love you!  So, yesterday I decided to make mashed potatoes.  This is a touching story of one person's triumph against adversity.  Actually, no it is not that story.  I peeled one large potato.  It smelled terrible raw, but ok, I wasn't eating it raw.  Boiling, smelled horrible but it wasn't done yet.  I mashed my lovely potato with half a cube of butter and whipped in some milk.  Really, I am trying to get some extra calories.  This is the first time in my life that has happened so butter is my weapon of choice.  I took my lovely bowl of potatoes and had a bite.  Ok, not good.  I tried some more, clearly I had to be wrong, it WAS good.  Nope, still not good and getting worse.  Four bites, that's all I could choke down, literally, I had to force myself to swallow them.  It's like a nightmare.

Under normal conditions this would be a dream come true.  I have become almost bony, if I could walk more, bend, lift, twist, and wasn't wearing the "back brace of corseted hell" I would go clothes shopping with glee.  In case you have not been paying attention, I am not currently operating under normal conditions.  I need to have enough calories, protein, calcium, whatever else to get these stupid bones to grow, so it's actually a bit of a concern.  And I am trying to walk for 30 minutes a day and must be strong for such an amazing feat of human endurance.  Quite the conundrum.   

Let's talk about Halloween.  My house is sadly undecorated, except for my two giant spider guys, the metal rat, and the crow that were Halloween decorations but I liked so much they have been elevated to "decor" and are now out year round.  My boss is coming over today and I feel sad the house isn't more festive for The Only Holiday I Like!  For the holiday, here is the latest photo of... My skeleton on fire!  Eeek! 

Happy Halloween! 

Rugby teams and other dangerous things

Recovery is boring.  There I said it.  It gives a person too much confined time with their own thoughts.  So what epiphanies have I had?  I have found that once I state something as an absolute, "I will never do that", God, the Universe, or Fate promptly responds with a resounding "Challenge Accepted!"

Examples?  Of course!

1.  I will never live in any of the middle states, like North or South Dakota, Nebraska, or Wyoming.  

2.  I would never have back surgery, it is always a bad idea.

3. I would never resort to cannibalism.  

Well, I now live in Nebraska.  There is a reason only 145 people live in the entire state, it's not called a fly over state without good reason.  Stay on the plane and keep flying.  Unless of course that's where your job is, if it is quit complaining and grow where you're planted.

Back surgery, well I've had two in the last couple of months.  I'm telling you, back surgery beats the hell out of screaming pain any day of the week.  And now I got some Titanium!  

Cannibalism, ok we're still clear on that one but I'm staying clear of rugby teams and plane trips over the Andes just to be safe.

The point being, saying "never" is just like like begging to eat your words later.

Monday is my first post op check up.  I'm feeling good overall.  The staples in my back itch like mad but that's to be expected while it's healing.  My dumb left leg, that's an annoyance.  I have always had loose tendons or something in my hips.  Never a problem before but now my left hip will just sort of pop out.  It did this really bad when I first herniated that disc and could barely use my leg at all.  I thought it had gotten better but I noticed it again yesterday while wandering in a circle in our driveway.  Going up hill and turning left makes it slip out.  Nice.  I want to get into physical therapy soon to strengthen the supporting muscles.  Hopefully I'll get cleared to walk more and start building some muscle myself.  

Nuts and Bolts

A week!  Its been a week since surgery, amazing right?  I know it's been that long because the felt on my back brace is covered with cat and dog hair.  Now, our house verges on freakishly clean thanks to the vigilance of my hubby, but pet hair is a losing battle.  They should be all be bald by now.  I am sad that there is a lack of horse hair, but I just don't feel like I can make it out to their field so I just watch them from the window.  They don't seem to miss me too much, so that's good?  

Em and T are heading back home and we will miss them, but we kept them longer than they expected and they were finally able to escape.  Initially the plan was for Em to stay for a couple of weeks, instead she got to go through me screeching in pain, Valium soaked (and saying things like "I've only taken 7, right? I can take more." It really did not help with the pain), moving into the recliner, falling down, MRIs and doctor appointments, surgery number 2, and hospital stay.  It easily compared to a trip to....Minot, ND.  Well, maybe not as bad as that....

So, overall I am feeling much better.  I have my walker and so I walker about. My outside left leg and foot muscles are still partially, what is the word?...numb, paralyzed, useless, non-working, I guess any of those work, from the initial "event" so I work on Walker Yoga to strengthen that leg.  Yes, I will be making a video, it's only 3 easy payments of 10.99 plus shipping and handling if you order in the next 60 seconds!  Order Now!   

But really, I am standing straight now, I'm not limping, no muscle spasms or extreme pain, and I feel optimistic. I will wait until a month is up before I shout that from the rooftops seeing as I felt damn good after the first surgery until the thing went to hell.  My sense of taste and smell is still messed up but I'm sure that must be medication related.  All the foods and beverages I really love are currently inedible.  For example, yesterday I just wanted a glass of wine.  So, wine is horrid, so I gave it to hubby and got a beer, even worse, gave it to hubby, Grand Marnier (come on, that's as orangey sweet as a liqueur gets), tasted like gasoline, so to hubby.  I was sad and he looked a bit green.  I guess coffee, water, and juice will have to do for now. 

So for fun, let's look at the nuts and bolts!  Yes, we snapped these from a really old cell phone (no iPhones here folks) in a hospital room, off of a computer screen, this isn't National Geographics, lower 

your standards.

Fun right!

Strange days

I've been home one day now and glad to be here. While hospitals are charming places to visit I wouldn't want to live (or die) there.

The hospital was a trip.  I was told i had to pass the physical therapist's tests, be able to get up by myself, and be off the IV.  I wanted to get home as soon as feasible so I decided not to use the IV pump painkiller on demand stuff the next day.  Really bad idea.  When the nurse assistant came to talk to me, I was pretty unhappy.  She explained that:

1. I should have told them

2. When the pump painkiller thing (not her exact words) isn't being used as much they would give pain pills to bridge the gap. 

3. It's better to keep the pain under control rather than fight to get it back under control.

Ok, after our little talk, I hit the painkiller button about 12 times.  It would only give you a dose every 7 minutes but I didn't want to misjudge and go 8 minutes accidently.  Better safe than sorry.

I would like to point out I would have died if hubby and Em weren't there.  Em helped me with all night with everything, I had an IV, a walker, and I was out of it so it was a challenge.  The night shift nursing team was a bit more lackadaisical than day shift, so good luck with that.  The sheets at the hospital were made out of Velcro, clothing just stuck instantly to it, so that was fun.  They were pumping gallons of fluid into me, I don't know why, so I had to use the bathroom every 2 hours.  It took 30 minutes to de-Velcro from the bed, log roll and lift myself up, get the walker in place, Em had to unplug the IV machine, and we would trek 3 yards to the bathroom, then to the sink to wash hands.  Every 2 hours, 24 hours a day.  Good times.  Some strange conversations occurred during our journeys.  At one point, I said " wouldn't it be funny if this hand just ran away?" now, what is the correct response to that?  She just looked at me.  After a few minutes, I realized how bizarre that was and said as much.  

On top of the bathroom trips, we were woken up so they could get blood from me, change the IV bags (that beeped like a fire alarm whenever they ran out), take my temperature, take my blood pressure, and to ask how I was doing.  Overall, the hospital was exhausting.  My poor hubby was stuck sleeping in the waiting room and I'm sure he slept like a baby too.  I didn't get out the next day but everyone said I was doing well.  On Saturday, I walked up and down the stairs with the physical therapist, saw the surgeon who cleared me, and got the staples out of my head.  The staff was impressed with how responsive my family was to make sure I was ok, and I got cleared to go home.  Yeah!

T stayed at the house and wrangled animals through this whole ordeal.  That was great, no one had to worry about them so everyone could focus on what was important.  ME, in case you were confused.  

I slept upstairs in my bed all night for the first time in too long.  I'm glad to be feeling better, if still sore and beat up.  

Post surgery

Had the surgery yesterday.  We got up bright and early to get there for the 7AM check in time.  I was the second one of the day.  The first one ran long so I didn't go until 11:30. I think I asked my husband 100 times to go get the car so I could  go.  I would have walked briskly away (we got a runner?!) but I only have 2 speeds really slow and even slower.  The wait has been nerve racking. 

The surgery went well according to everyone.  The neurosurgeon got it done in less than 2 hours so that was great too, nothing weird happened.  In the recovery room I heard someone yelling my name and I woke up.  The recovery was way easier this surgery compared to the one in August.  I wasnt nauseous this time and wasnt as tired afterward.  one weird thing though, I had some goo in my hair and it turned out they had stapled my head.  They had put something like a halo on to hold my head and one bled too much when it was removed so they stapled it closed.  At least that's the story, the staple look remarkably like plain stables so I envision some sort of post surgery office supply fight or choigraphed dance with red Swingline staplers. 

Em and hubby stayed with me last night, which was nice.  I was still a bit confused from the anesthesia. I woke up at 12:05 and thought it was noon and I had just slept a long time.  Em is staying in my room so I asked her if she was napping, then I sent a text to hubby that I was FINALLY up!  The have a one guest in room policy so he was sleeping in the waiting area on an itty bitty couch so I'm sure he appreciated this little bit of info.  Em asked me if I knew it was midnight and of course I didn't.  

My super duper corsetted back brace showed up so this morning I put it on and walked around.  I felt like a marathon runner!  I got back to my room and met my phys. therapist and I wanted to learn how to walk up and down stairs but I had gotten so light headed from the walk, I thought I was going to pass out.  We just went on another walk, which was fine by me!  I'm the one in the middle.  I'm tired and uncomfortable but not in any extreme pain yet.  Already I am standing straighter and walking without the limp I forgot to mention earlier.  I'm trying to not use the pump pain meds at all so they will take the IV out.  They took the catheter out this morning thankfully, I hate those things!

  

Fe Fi Fo Fum

Well, the day is nearing.  It's been very stressful and I wish it was done.  The game plan is a bit graphic, they saw off a chunk of my spine ( yeah!), scrape out the damaged disc, grind up my bone they sawed off and put it into a cage, like a plastic Lego then they stuff it in where the disc was, then they take 4 giant screws and put two in each vertebrae and a rod connecting them to hold my spine at the correct distance.  Easy Peasy.  To make this even more fun I found out yesterday I have a bladder infection. So I get to eat even more pills!  and cranberry juice....yum.

So in an effort to ease my anxiety I look at my MRI.  Well, there is a line right through the damaged area, but the disc herniated again.  A lot.  The first photo is from the side ( again my dear hubby cropped my belly fat.  Thank you!) and the second is me cut in half, like a magician trick gone horribly wrong.  I'm not a doctor but even I can see the stuff pressing on my spinal nerves.  

Here's another picture, it's a bit blurry but you get the idea.  The white line is NOT suppose to have black gunk in it.  To add a dash of joy to this, this has caused spinal instability!  Now, this happens sometimes, it's not anyone's fault.  I keep saying that, I really tried to be careful and knew it was a risk but I still wonder if I could have done something different.  If wishes were horses all beggars would ride.

On to another topic.  Today is my mother and father in law's wedding anniversary.  48 years!  They took a wonderful trip to Nebraska.  It was a dream of theirs to see....ummm...the largest grass stabilized sand dunes in the world.  Thats right!  We got that here!   HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!  We are very glad they are here, cause they are the ones holding us together emotionally.  I've thought many times that my head was about to implode and they have stopped it from happening every time.  THANK YOU!

                                                     Laissez les bons temps rouler !  

The Castle Aaargh

I found another reason why I would be a horrible undercover CIA agent.  The list is surprisingly long already.  I imagine most people keep a similar list.  What I found is when I'm under extreme duress I am very compliant.  Torture me and I will give you anything I have, information, puppies, boxes of chocolate, you name it it's yours.  I have two times in my life that fit into this category, labor and this back thing.  Now labor was 22 years ago but still a vivid memory but I think there have been a couple of times that this current event surpasses it for pure pain.  That's saying something since labor is the main reason I only have one child.  "Where is this going?" you might ask yourself.  Well, the first surgery was an easy decision, I was in debilitating pain and surgery was scheduled for the next day.  This scheduled surgery too, same story....but then the insurance thing caused a delay and I've had too much Internet time to freak out about it.  I've started to second guess myself.  That is its own torture.  

"Please tell us more!". Well if you insist!  I had what I considered a good day yesterday.  To qualify as a good day anymore is surprisingly easy.  I was just uncomfortable all day.  See, the bar is set fairly low. But it was good enough I thought maybe I'm getting better!  To test this hypothesis I set up an experiment.  I made brownies.  I was careful, didn't lift anything too heavy like the flour container, bent with my knees if I needed anything I couldn't reach, I wasn't trying to hurt myself.  It took about 20 minutes and it felt like an hour but all in all it went ok.  Please remember the evolution chart, I am still not walking upright, that has not changed at all.  But I'm feeling pretty cocky, like I just summitted Everest or something.  The brownies were my Everest!  Actually, that's not true, turns out standing upright and laying flat is my Everest.  Who knew?

So, part two of my experiment.  I was going to skip my nightly dose of Flexeril muscle relaxant drug (but keep it close at hand, just in case) and SLEEP IN MY BED!  I laid down with a pillow under my knees for support, I mean I wasn't going to dare devil this thing, and prepared to sleep.  Well, that's not exactly what happened.  Pain, that's what happened.  I flailed about and knocked my water over, oops.  After about two hours and a muscle spasm later I caved and took the Flexeril.  I try to not take more than half a pill during the day because a whole pill quickly renders me unconscious. That is a reliable outcome, but not this time. I had another spasm, and couldn't sleep through the pain.  After about 4 hours, I gave up and staggered downstairs to my chair home with my heating pad.  

So, I'm not doing as well as I thought I was.  Surprise!  

What was that thing....?

What was that thing everyone did right before the Titanic sunk?   Oh, right PANIC. That's how I feel.  Too much time to wait and brood and imagine horrible things. Like what if there is a sharknado that hits the hospital in the middle of the surgery? What then?  Actually, it is really stressful.  There are real risks which I don't want to think about now without a Valium.  

I don't feel horrible right now.  Let's take a look at the probable reasons for this:

1. I'm on some decent pain meds and any time I feel bad I can take something for it. 

2. I am almost immobile so very little stress on my back.  I spend about 22 hours a day in a recliner with a heating pad.  I figure 2 hours a day for shower, teeth brushing, potty trips, crying and flailing about, and foraging. 

3. I am not: picking up, carrying, bending, or doing anything remotely active.

4. Because eating has become such a chore I've lost weight.  Don't get me wrong, I didn't need to lose weight my BMI was and still does fall in the normal range but I've lost 13 pounds.  I read somewhere that for every extra pound you carry you put 5 pounds of pressure on your lower back.  So that's.....umm basic math..... 5x13=.....hold on....65 pounds of pressure.  That's huge...if my math is right.  And it always is.  (Why yes, that was a quote from the first IronMan movie, glad to see you are paying attention)

5. I actually am getting better...now what do I do with that? Is it?  How do I know?  Panic.

Anyway, when I do decide to get up off my butt to do something I'm reminded that I am really not ok.  I managed to successfully make a pound cake yesterday.  I mean, that is the simplest of all the cakes but it was still exhausting and achy.  I want to just go back to work, I wasn't expecting any of this, my office is a mess, I have stuff to do, people to hire, and my whole territory is now being handled by SOMEONE ELSE.  What if they are doing a better job than me.....panicking.... I have a life that has nothing to do with my current lifestyle of doing nothing!

I hope all goes completely great and I get out of the hospital quickly and heal fast.  Everything I've read is, basically you can do it now, or do it later and manage the pain, but either way eventually you will probably need to do it.  I'll take now while the insurance is playing ball and all my out of pocket expenses are paid.  Happy thought, happy thoughts,  I really suck at happy thoughts.  I'm more of a "things can always get worse" sort of person.  

Roller coaster rides make me want to throw up

Ok, insurance approved the surgery after the peer to peer review.  I was SO SURE they were going to deny it again I was trying to figure out how I was going to get around. My husband and father in law went out and got me a cane that matches our new bass. Turns out those are crazy hard to use.  Em gave me a walking with a cane tutorial including demonstration but I am just a horrid student and unable to follow basic directions.  I am a hazard to myself and others so I pretty much just stay put.  I have stolen the cat's chair, the recliner and I am sort of living there.  The cat looks disgusted but he has taken my side of the bed seeing as I sleep in this chair too.  Wow, that sounds pathetic when it's on paper. 

In a woe is me moment, I was reminded I did get to put on shoes and leave the house just yesterday.  The horses were out running and bucking, normal horse play stuff when the guys went out to feed them.  Frankie had blood running out of his nose and had managed to rub a huge bloody streak on my husband's shirt.  As he is grey, everywhere on his body he had touched also had a big red smear.  He looked like a nightmare.  Anyway, I got to ride the 500 feet in the convertible and wear shoes too, so I could look at him.  Turned out he had a little nick in his nostril that just bled like no tomorrow.  I got to sit in the car and yell direction...so that was my outing.  First time I've been outside since my last doctors appointment.  

Surgery is scheduled for Thursday, 10AM.  I had geared up and mentally prepared for surgery, then got ungeared and mentally prepared to not have surgery because of the insurance, and now I am gearing up again for surgery.  I'm really nervous but this is considered the "easy" fusion because there isn't much motion there anyway but they are going to cut off a chunk of spine bone.  No way you can get lipstick on that pig, it's flat out terrifying. At least I'll get a chance to get out of the chair...the cat will be happy. 

I'm really glad that Em an T are willing to stay here with us, they both give us support and help with our menagerie so someone will be able to stay with me at the hospital.  I hate that I can't stand up long enough to cook for them.  Or cook unburnt food for them might be more accurate.  So far they haven't snuck out in the middle of the night and hightailed it back home.  Little do they know we have all the doors barred, just in case....

Hurry up and wait...

The Internet is a great and terrible thing.  I've been trying to stay busy so I don't spend all my time on it.   A managed to make foccasia bread with a lot of assistance from Em, but I still read a ton about the spine on the Internet.  So, freaking out.  The surgeon planned on speaking to the insurance today, last I heard they were playing telephone tag with each other.  I need to feel better and go back to work but any way you cut it this process has been a drag!  Prolonged worry about surgery, or lack of surgery if the insurance company denies it again, is scary and stressful either way.  So I read internet back surgery stories and medication interactions horrors.  Bad, bad, bad!  I started this blog thing to prevent me from doing exactly what I am doing...obsessing over all that could go wrong. I don't do that when I drive and if you think about all the things that could go wrong with that you would get out and burn your Car of Potential Death on the spot.   

So on to other news.  The medication has made food taste weird.  Bad weird, really really bad.  I had a part of a Subway sandwich.  I like those.  My husband cut it nicely into 4 little pieces because I am super picky now.  I was sort of picking at it and there was something in it, horrid like sour kraut dipped in battery acid and allowed to ferment in hell for 3 months ( in real life, I think it  might have been an onion).  Needless to say, I didn't finish all my dinner.  When making the foccasia, I noticed that my sense of smell has changed too.  The dough smelled nauseating to me, I think it was the garlic, but everyone else said it smelled and tasted good.  I'll take their word for it, no way I'm eating it.  Bizarre right?  Toast, plain potato chips, and tic tacs are about all I eat, with the occasional cookie or ice cream tossed in for protein  (As a vegetarian, a healthy diet is vital!).   At least the mood swings have stopped, so that's good.  

Hopefully, I'll hear tomorrow what the insurance company says.  Eeek!  Scary either way!  Perfect for halloween.  

And we're walking...

Alright, let's start with the good.  The pain medication is working well.  I haven't had any muscle spasms since I've started the new meds.  I feel pretty good, if I don't move very much and I've lost over 10 pounds.  Awesome right!  I'm sure I look great except for the falling down, inability to stand up straight, listing, and snail like pace.  I've stopped crying all the time (I think that was the steroids) so that's good too.  

So what's not so good?

I currently walk like the second guy.  I'm almost evolved! But not a lot of "bringing sexy back".  But really, I am standing all kinds of weird. Warning, some mildly mature content.  So, please refer to second guy as I run through this.  I can only stand with my knees bent and leaning forward.  If I attempt to fix this, I fall down or just go backward like a 1974 Vega with a bum transmission.  " it's stuck in reverse again!" My hips are shifted to the right and my shoulders to the left.  Like I'm trapped in a strange belly dance position.  To add to the attractiveness of this image I hold my left side higher than my right side which makes my left boob about three inches higher than the right one.  Victoria Secret models better watch their back cause I'm coming after their jobs!  

The surgery was originally scheduled for today, so I'll continue to wait.  If they aren't doing the surgery I just have got to get back to work.  I can make it about 15 feet from chair to counter top in one impressive burst of movement.  But it's exhausting, really, like I just ran a mile (ha, like I know what running a mile is like!).  Usually it's from this base to that one I fall down, so I guess I can't say I usually make it the 15 feet.  I bet I could make it 5 feet with no problem.  Please hold your applause to the end.  

I made an ice cream base yesterday, I can't believe I didn't drop dead half way through the recipe.  My pulse was up to 212 beats per minute, I was sweating, panting and hanging onto the counter top like an overly excited Great Dane.  But we now have ice cream!  Success!  

I continue to wait and see what will happen. 

Insurance, or so it's called

I'm suppose to be in surgery.  Right now.  I'm assuming you can tell that has not occurred.  My father in law drove most of the night to get here and I'm just sitting in the same chair I slept in.

Why? That is a valid question.  Apparently surgery was scheduled before the insurance approved it.  And they didn't approve it.  At least we got some notice, five minutes before we left for the hospital we found out.  That's almost enough time to make microwave popcorn, so I can't complain.

Now the surgeon needs to do a peer to peer conference with my insurance company to explain that we aren't just doing this for fun and I get to wait to find out what happens.  I am completely useless, I can't cook, walk, get dressed unless I have an hour to dedicate to the onputting of socks, or drive.  If you think I sound whiny, you are wrong.  I sound pathetic.  There is a distinct difference.

I'll sit in my chair, try not to cry in front of company, or swear or drink to much.  It's tough to be polite when things suck.  Actually, for those of you that pray, pray I don't just develop a severe case of tourrettes in front of my father in law.  I think that may be bad.

This is traumatic because you really have to psych yourself up to commit fully for surgery.  I mean, that takes some energy, it's so easy to second guess your choice.  If it turns out it was a great choice, if it doesn't it was a bad choice but not making a commitment means I get to sit RIGHT here, in THIS chair, the same chair I sleep in now and stay semi comotose on pharmisuticals.

Well, no one said life were fair, I just really want it to be not fair in my favor.

Now or never

So, I just received a call from the surgeon. My surgery has been moved to tomarrow with a 7:30 check in time.  So, here we go.

Bad behavior and new drugs.

Hi,

It’s been a rough day and a half and I’ve been sharing my frustrations with my family.  They think it’s a ton of fun!  Em is like the stellar version of a hostage negotiator.  I believe if she was given the opportunity she could broker a lasting peace settlement in the Middle East.  She makes really good cookies too.  We are fortunate to have her here!

Yesterday was the first day without the wonders of prednisone and therefore without a very good night sleep.  They can’t refill it because it suppresses your ability to fight infection.  I had one minor back spasm that freaked me out.  I just can’t do those again; even the thought of them is terrifying.  It’s like having a bear come lick your face.  The licking part is fairly unpleasant but you’re sure they are going to do the “how many licks to get to the center of a tootsie pop” with the center in this analogy being your brain.  Then instead they just walk away leaving you scared, angry and covered in bear drool.  That was how my day started. 

I had some stuff that needed to be accomplished, minor stuff like updating my work out of office email, calling the doctor about the return of the muscle spasms, just little stuff like that.  Anyway, I wasn’t able to update the voice message on my work phone.  I sent an email to the Telecom manager for the territory to ask how I could do it, I mean it had worked in the past, its not rocket science.  He told me to do exactly what I had been doing and then told me to call the computer help desk to fix it.  I was feeling unreasonably annoyed by this process soooo, my husband stepped in to assist.  You know, sometimes it is just not about the nail.  And WWIII began.  In Nebraska. 

Now let’s be fair, the guy is doing a great job and I feel like I’ve been holding onto the ragged edges of sanity by one bloody fingernail since this whole thing started.  I staggered down the stairs into our sunroom, found a flower pot (a cheap, empty terra cotta one, I think they were 2 bucks) and threw it as hard as I could onto our deck.  OK, expectation versus reality.  Expectation, pot shatters into a million shards dispersing my childish behavior in an explosion of pottery.  Reality, under best conditions I throw like a girl (a girl that can’t throw things) and I’m not under my best conditions.  So I threw the pot, it hurt so much I thought I was going to fall down, the pot hits the deck and bounces, unharmed until on the second bounce it breaks into 3 pieces.  Not satisfying, painful, and somehow I managed to get a splinter in my hand in the process.  No idea how that happened and I’m still as mad as a wet hen.

I stagger back up stairs and Em, the voice of rationality, explained how I really needed to calm down, talk to my husband about picking up my new prescription because, really I shouldn’t (and I believe I can’t) drive to get it myself and  explained just not talking to him wasn’t really an option.  So we apologize, kiss and make up.  He goes and gets a new prescription for spasms, I take it with my other medication and then I fall asleep.  Right there.  I slept for 13 hours.  After some additional research, it looks like people stagger the meds so this doesn’t happen.  Interesting!  Live and learn.   

So what is the point of this little story?  I’m so frustrated that I can’t do the simplest tasks, I’m drugged up, in pain, and scared about the surgery.  My husband wants so much to fix everything and this is just not something he can fix.  For anyone out there who may be having or considering the surgery, don’t expect the wait to be a cakewalk for you or others in your life, find a diplomat or hostage negotiator and just have them stay with you.  It helps.       

5 days and Counting until surgery....and out of some medication.

Hi,

I’m sure you’ve all been waiting with bated breath for my latest bit of information and charming anecdotes.  By “all of you” I mean my husband guy because I think he’s the only one who is reading this.   He is contractually obligated to love me in sickness and in health and read stories he’s already heard in person, so that’s the way it goes.

My mother in law, Em has come to assist with everything and help my husband share in the joy of hearing me complain.  I’m the gift that just keeps giving.  I’ve been on a steroid medication called prednisone for the last week or so.  I took the last one today, which is really horrible news for me.  Since I started those, I have only had one minor back spasm.  While I’m still really, really slow at least I’m only extremely uncomfortable now.  A massive improvement overall, and now they are all gone.  That makes me sad.  Seriously, sad.    

Interesting side effect of steroids (other than growing a beard and mustache, which is coming in nicely, thank you) is massive mood swings.  Not like, oh I’m happy and now I feel blue, it’s I’m laughing (for no reason) until I snort like a pig then I start crying because I’m just a pig.  Just like that.  I have requested repeatedly that someone fetch me something glass that I could break, (there are some feelings of anger interspersed to add interest to the process) but so far no one has complied.  They know I’m in no shape to clean up after myself, so it’s really just self preservation on their part.  I’m too slow to go and find something myself, by the time I found something break-worthy the mood swing would be on to something bigger and better.  Overall, annoying.  Oh, and in the interest of full disclosure, I think the medication makes me smell weird.  So that is also awesome.   

I made dinner last night.  Anyone who knows anything about me knows I really love to cook.  I made the ever challenging grilled cheese sandwich, ah yes, sounds boring but with Muenster cheese, fresh tomatoes, onions, garlic butter, sounded so good.  And do-able.  Did I mention I am slow?  Painfully, agonizingly slow.  As I result, I burned all the grilled cheese sandwiches.  So then, the burned grilled cheese was salted with my tears of frustration.  Overall, not delicious.  If you look, you will notice dinner was not featured on my Facebook page.  Which is really one of the few things I use Facebook for, to show what I made to eat.  Yes, sad I know.  Crying now.  

Em has some of her own medical concerns and has done a great job powering through with my upkeep.  People leap to attend to my every wish and need, whether I want them to or not (not that I don’t really appreciate the help, often if it wasn’t for someone standing right by me, I would just fall down.  My balance is nearly non existent). I feel like a prize pony, a whiny, sad, lame, prize pony.  After an appointment with the doctor on Friday, we went out to lunch.  She held me up, I held her up, and together we looked like the slowest team in a three legged race.  Ever.  My husband does his best to keep us both alive, bless his heart.  His work is cut out for him. 

I’m still taking a time released pain pill called Tramadol and Gabapentin for nerve pain.  I can take Tylenol, but nothing with aspirin in it.  Tylenol sucks.  I mean it’s great if you have a headache, but I don’t have a headache so it’s just this side of useless.  Why do I take it?  Because it is just THIS side of useless.  As soon as it’s THAT side of useless, I’ll stop.

I hope to God this surgery works because overall things are sort of a drag.   Thankfully, my father in law is coming to help with the horses while I’m at the hospital for surgery.  So, that’s good news at least.

Five days to surgery and counting.

Fun with anatomy

Because stories are always more fun with pictures, I thought I would share my internal organs and bone structure with you.  Yeah! Right?

So, here is where my drama began, see that bright white line?  Looks important doesn't it?  Anyway, I thought it did.  That would be your spinal cord, I'm talking about that line right by the bony looking things.  The white line at the edge of my body is fat.  Really, fat looks much worse on an MRI, I made my husband crop the belly part because it was just too much reality to deal with on top of the whole debilitating pain thing.

It turns out your spinal cord ends pretty close to your rib cage then it branches out into a "horse's tail" it's officially called the Cauda Equina.  See isn't this fun! That yellow line is because " I used to be an adventurer like you, but then I took an arrow in the knee " or back, whatever right?  (Sorry, its a nod to Skyrim for those who have no idea what I'm talking about) Actually that was just the marker, they can slice the image anywhere they want so I got dissected in half right there in another photo.  

You see that nice thick bright white line of nerves comes to a sudden end with a big blob of black? It's right below that yellowish line.  That's where all the nerves that control all kinds of really important stuff, like bladder control and leg movement were squashed flat against more bone.  You cannot see any of the white nerves from any angle at that point.  Where did they go?  Who knows.  But that helps explain why I lost feeling in my left leg.  It could have been way worse, like diaper worse which would have been an extreme bummer.  

Well, that's the end of our anatomy 101 lesson.  There will be a quiz on Friday.

Post microdiscectomy, pre fusion surgery

Hi, I am new to posting blogs so please be patient with my learning curve.

I have a surgery to fuse my L5 S1 discs scheduled for October 4th 2013 and have found very few positive stories on the internet. I realize that they wouldn’t be performing over 400,000 (according to a quick Google search) back fusion surgeries a year in the United States if everyone ended up in debilitating pain and suffering terrible results. Unfortunately, it’s the unsuccessful surgeries that people write about, with successful surgeries resulting in people just go on living their lives and not letting the world know that it was ok.

Let me give you a brief history of who I am. I am a 43 year old female, I am not overweight, do not smoke, but I am not in great condition. I have an elliptical machine I look at regularly, it looks nice and is in “like new” condition. Don’t judge, I know a ton of other people are using their tread mills and exercise bikes as racks to dry their sweaters on too. I have 2 horses and have shown show jumpers competitively for years, but I haven’t for the last 5 years due to a change of location, rural Nebraska is not known for equestrian sports that don’t involve roping a cow. The point of this information is jumping horses often results in falling off horses, usually from a great height and with a fair amount of force. I have broken ribs, my wrist, bruised kidneys and so on and so forth. Probably not the best thing for overall back health.

I currently have a job I will term extremely loosely as a desk job. By desk job, I mean I have a desk. Because of my extremely rural location (population 8,000, closest WalMart, 50 miles away, Olive Garden… dream on) I drive huge distances to get to my work sites and spend tons of time trapped in various aircraft, from the 13 seat prop plane to grown up jets. It is not uncommon for me to drive 6 hours to a work site, work my shift then drive the 6 hours back home. I had begun to notice that these long trips were causing some back strain, but figured it came with the territory. I went to chiropractors and generally dealt with it.

So now the drama begins… On a Friday as I was getting ready for work, while in the shower I dropped a bar of soap. Yes, that’s right folks, a bar of soap. Not even a new bar of soap that might have weighed a gram or two, but a soap particle. Like any other normal person, I bent over to pick it up and felt a distinct tearing in my lower back, imagine when you pull Velcro apart, sort of like that. So, I nearly passed out, got over it, and went to work. By the end of the day, feeling ok but not great. Saturday, much worse but hey, power through right? I mean, who wants to waste a weekend. By Sunday, I couldn’t move, my husband found me laying on the living room floor saying “Emergency Room.” Warning: I am now going to slam small town hospitals so if you object, please skip the next several sentences. I could not feel my left leg by the time I got to the emergency room which is about 10 minutes away. I kept tripping over my left foot with my right foot because I didn’t know where it was and my husband was keeping me from falling down, which the doctor saw as I entered. I was in a fair amount of pain, but I don’t know what the “pain scale” means. I figure, pain level 10 the highest rating, both your arms are blown off, you have 3rd degree burns over half your body and you are covered in fire ants. So I said a 6, probably conservative. So the nurses and doctor are chit chatting in the reception room, we can hear them so I know it wasn’t patient related unless Subway is a new medical procedure and I waited nearly an hour in an empty emergency room to be seen. They gave me a shot for pain, and a prescription for pain pills and said “come back in two weeks if you aren’t feeling better”.

OK, so this is getting long but hopefully I haven’t lost you (if anyone is reading this). I went to my GP in another town an hour away on Tuesday; she immediately ordered an MRI, got the results and then promptly and personally escorted me to the Neurosurgeon down the hall. Surgery was scheduled for the next day, August 21st for a massive herniated disc. I didn’t question it, at that point I was in so much pain they could have said “we need to take you into the parking lot and shoot you” and I would have been fine with that. This is rural Nebraska, so I’m not certain this isn’t a standard form of treatment anyway.

Felt GREAT for about 3 weeks, started getting feeling back in my leg and foot and was happy as a little girl. Then I got a muscle spasm, not pleasant but understandable. I thought the nerves were coming back and were just really mad so they prescribed Valium. The spasms got worse until I was having spasms lasting nearly an hour up to 5 times a day that left me crying and immobile. So that sucked. Called the doctor and they said, that’s not normal, lets do another MRI and see what is going on. For perspective, the day of the appointment I had to get up at around 2 AM to use the restroom. It took 2 prescription pain pills, Valium, a giant glass of wine and TWO AND A HALF HOURS to get out of bed. Oh, just for info, that cocktail I just mentioned doesn’t settle in real well so then I got to spend the next hour throwing up. Good times. The disc had collapsed, it was just too damaged to hold up. So, lots of co-pay insurance deductible etc etc crap here that made me say, do it now or never because this is getting into the Ferrari price range.

So, that’s where I am. On the plus side, I’m getting some great scores on Skyrim because I can’t do anything but bitch and play video games.

For those of you who may be going in for back fusion surgery or contemplating it, I want to give you an honest opinion of my results and experiences. It may be good, it may be bad, but it will be something.

Wish me Luck
Enna