Free At Last! Well, Semi-Free from Pain, Anyway
So, Friday finds me at last able to sit at the computer and type a bit. Hubba-hubba, bless his little heart, was able to type in that last entry... Hmmmm, now I know why I try not to have him do it! Now, whether you want it or not, you are going to get the whole story...
The fiery dragon teeth that had been gnashing at my back refused to go away. I threw Motrin, Vicodin, Soma at them, and they would not budge in the least. I was unable to stand up straight for almost five days. Whenever I would even try, the teeth would chomp hard, causing me to literally scream in pain and collapse to the floor. I had to crawl around to get anywhere. Except for the screaming part, that was highly entertaining to Mr. Personality.
Seriously, I have never wanted to avoid going to the bathroom so badly in my life. I will never again take for granted the ability to wipe my own butt.
Everyone kept thinking it would get better soon, including me. As people had to come over and help watch Mr. Personality and Hubba-hubba had to call in sick on a couple days, I was at a fever pitch of allover body pain. Now, not just the back spasms were causing me pain, my entire body was gettting spasms and knots and I was one cranky bitch.
I got desperate enough to call in a massage therapist to come to my home. For one hundred bucks, it was well worth it. Even though I had to display some of my previously never-seen-before parts by eyes other than Hubba-hubba's, I would do it again in a heartbeat. She wasn't able to get me walking, but she relieved a lot of the other bodily pain that I had, which ranged from my hamstrings to my forearms. I guess my body just could not get around the fact that I was having to crawl extensively for the first time since I was under the age of one.
My HMO, whom I will anonymously name Paiser-Kermanente, was of no help. I tried to get more drugs, but they insisted that I be seen first. I insisted that I could not stand upright, so how the heck was anybody supposed to see me. The nurse suggested I have my husband carry me, and even through the pain, I was laughing hysterically at the thought. Finally yesterday, I was able to drag myself to the Acute Care Center, which was nowhere even close to where I live, courtesy of my dad who took off work early.
After standing and walking all around the lobby with what I am sure was a very odd looking hitch due to the fact that I was unable to sit upright, I was finally admitted to see a doctor. They gave me a shot of some kind of pain reliever, then it was off to the X-ray room. The X-ray tech started to give me the spiel about having to change into one of the frickin' gowns and I just looked at him. I said kindly that I could possibly try to change into one, but for sure, I wouldn't be able to change back out. And unless he was going to help me, the gown scene just wasn't going to happen. Of course, I got to keep my clothes on.
Then, back to the Acute Care Center, (that sounds just so impressive, I can't stop using it) and the doctor came back in. I eyed him from my prone position on the gurney and stated that I had a 60th Wedding Anniversary Party that I had been planning for six months happening in two days, and that I wanted to be mobile for that. He took a deep breath and stated, "OK, no pressure there," and left for a moment.
The next thing I know, I am surrounded by two nurses who place an IV in my arm. One nurse put it in, and I watched in minor alarm as blood spurted and pooled in the crook. I joked that the same thing had happened with my IV for my C-section, and that had actually gotten blood all over the floor. She assured me that that is how you knew it was a good placement, that it was really in the vein. I don't know if she was trying to make me or her feel better about it, and I'm not sure she suceeded at either.
I was injected with steroids, which was a first for me. Another nurse had to sit and veeeeerrrrrryyyyy sllloooooowwwwlllyyy depress that syringe. I guess the viscosity of the steroids was high, so it could not just be quickly injected. We both just kind of sat and stared at it, with me thinking if there was any kind of bubble in there, that I was going to be in some serious trouble.
Then I got all kinds of fun prescriptions to fill, and here I am. I am not at full capacity yet, but I aim to be there pretty soon. And now with the steroids, I look forward to becoming all muscle-y. Not sure about the excess hair part, though. I'll let you know if my voice gets lower.
Thanks to you all for your kind thoughts, they really meant a lot to me. I love you guys!
The fiery dragon teeth that had been gnashing at my back refused to go away. I threw Motrin, Vicodin, Soma at them, and they would not budge in the least. I was unable to stand up straight for almost five days. Whenever I would even try, the teeth would chomp hard, causing me to literally scream in pain and collapse to the floor. I had to crawl around to get anywhere. Except for the screaming part, that was highly entertaining to Mr. Personality.
Seriously, I have never wanted to avoid going to the bathroom so badly in my life. I will never again take for granted the ability to wipe my own butt.
Everyone kept thinking it would get better soon, including me. As people had to come over and help watch Mr. Personality and Hubba-hubba had to call in sick on a couple days, I was at a fever pitch of allover body pain. Now, not just the back spasms were causing me pain, my entire body was gettting spasms and knots and I was one cranky bitch.
I got desperate enough to call in a massage therapist to come to my home. For one hundred bucks, it was well worth it. Even though I had to display some of my previously never-seen-before parts by eyes other than Hubba-hubba's, I would do it again in a heartbeat. She wasn't able to get me walking, but she relieved a lot of the other bodily pain that I had, which ranged from my hamstrings to my forearms. I guess my body just could not get around the fact that I was having to crawl extensively for the first time since I was under the age of one.
My HMO, whom I will anonymously name Paiser-Kermanente, was of no help. I tried to get more drugs, but they insisted that I be seen first. I insisted that I could not stand upright, so how the heck was anybody supposed to see me. The nurse suggested I have my husband carry me, and even through the pain, I was laughing hysterically at the thought. Finally yesterday, I was able to drag myself to the Acute Care Center, which was nowhere even close to where I live, courtesy of my dad who took off work early.
After standing and walking all around the lobby with what I am sure was a very odd looking hitch due to the fact that I was unable to sit upright, I was finally admitted to see a doctor. They gave me a shot of some kind of pain reliever, then it was off to the X-ray room. The X-ray tech started to give me the spiel about having to change into one of the frickin' gowns and I just looked at him. I said kindly that I could possibly try to change into one, but for sure, I wouldn't be able to change back out. And unless he was going to help me, the gown scene just wasn't going to happen. Of course, I got to keep my clothes on.
Then, back to the Acute Care Center, (that sounds just so impressive, I can't stop using it) and the doctor came back in. I eyed him from my prone position on the gurney and stated that I had a 60th Wedding Anniversary Party that I had been planning for six months happening in two days, and that I wanted to be mobile for that. He took a deep breath and stated, "OK, no pressure there," and left for a moment.
The next thing I know, I am surrounded by two nurses who place an IV in my arm. One nurse put it in, and I watched in minor alarm as blood spurted and pooled in the crook. I joked that the same thing had happened with my IV for my C-section, and that had actually gotten blood all over the floor. She assured me that that is how you knew it was a good placement, that it was really in the vein. I don't know if she was trying to make me or her feel better about it, and I'm not sure she suceeded at either.
I was injected with steroids, which was a first for me. Another nurse had to sit and veeeeerrrrrryyyyy sllloooooowwwwlllyyy depress that syringe. I guess the viscosity of the steroids was high, so it could not just be quickly injected. We both just kind of sat and stared at it, with me thinking if there was any kind of bubble in there, that I was going to be in some serious trouble.
Then I got all kinds of fun prescriptions to fill, and here I am. I am not at full capacity yet, but I aim to be there pretty soon. And now with the steroids, I look forward to becoming all muscle-y. Not sure about the excess hair part, though. I'll let you know if my voice gets lower.
Thanks to you all for your kind thoughts, they really meant a lot to me. I love you guys!
Comments
(Clever gal that I am, I untangled the mysterious identity of your health care plan!)
I hope you don't have the same experience I had when I had to go on steroids - they did wacky things to my brain :-(
Suzanne