07 October, 2007

Oh Goody! She's On About Her Damn Back Again! 

(Hey friends, this is a long post and I don't know why I'm compelled to post the whole story but I am. Read it if you want, but if you don't want the whole saga, then I invite you to skip down to today's Simon Sunday post. K'thxbye!)

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I really thought I'd have nothing new to post about my back problems after last weekend. I went for another acupuncture treatment last Tuesday and felt better than I had in several weeks.

And then...

I wake up Wednesday morning. The back/hip/leg is stiff and a little sore, but that's been The New Normal so I didn't worry too much about it, even if it was disappointing because I had felt so much better before I went to bed. I went through the morning ablutions, gave the cats some breakfast and went into the bedroom to finish my Chinese herb tea and get dressed while Billie ate her breakfast on my bed. I bent down to put my underwear on when something went horribly, horribly wrong. I don't know if a disc slipped or what exactly happened: All I know is that I was suddenly in the most horrific pain I have ever experienced in my life and I couldn't walk. I was trying so hard not to panic but it was a full-speed freight train coming right at me. I tried to stretch gently and nearly collapsed: I tried to walk it off but I could hardly move. I flopped myself onto the bed thinking that maybe if I just rested it for a few minutes it would be okay and I could get dressed and take the later boat in to work (how fucking sick is that?).

If I moved, even a hair's width, my right side shrieked in agony. I don't know how I did it, but I got up and, with the aid of my Swiffer broom stick (that I had been using as a cane), grabbed an old dress out of the closet and threw it over me, got to the back door and unlocked it so my friend S could get in, put the rest of Simon's breakfast in his dish and got my mobile phone before collapsing on the bed and, very gingerly and painfully, slithering under the covers. I left messages with the acupuncturist (her office was closed Wednesday but I didn't realize that at first) and the receptionist at my office (she said she never got my message, though I distinctly remember hearing her voice mail greeting and leaving a very gasping, panic-stricken message). I shivered under the covers for another hour or two before calling S (got her voice mail) and G (who, thank my stars, picked up). G came over (she has a spare key) and helped me with the cats and brought me water, made sure I was alright and told me to call if I needed a ride to the doctor or anything.

My nerves and muscles in right leg were so ground up that any trip to the bathroom or to the kitchen to get the ice pack left me shaking violently by the time I got back to my bed and it would take me several minutes of flopping (there was no strength in the leg to hold me up to even sit on the bed) slithering, moaning and screaming before I was under the covers again. Simon stayed next to me in bed: Billie stayed in the living room, but I could hear her pitter-pattering feet in the hallway and occasionally she'd meow softly until I answered her. I made an appointment at Kaiser for Thursday afternoon. I spoke to the acupuncturist: She thought she might try to come to my apartment to give me a treatment but she couldn't (not that I could have got to the door to let her in, anyway). She thought I should get a chiropractic adjustment. On one of my herculean efforts to get to the bathroom and back, I detoured to my desk for the blue post-it note pad with the name and phone number of S's chiropractor. I checked in at the office (that's when I was told that the receptionist didn't get my voice mail) and said I was done for the next couple of days, probably the rest of the week but that I'd keep checking in. At that point I was exhausted and my mobile phone battery was running low. I phoned G's a while later and spoke to C who said he or G would stop by in the evening. I managed to find a "least uncomfortable" position and slept fitfully for a couple of hours.

C came over and brought me my ice pack, mobile phone charger and hooked up my old iBook and the Airport Base station so I could at least check in online and then served the cats' food. I think he was on his way to something else and I felt bad that I kept him for so long. I got hold of S a couple of hours later and she said she would be over in the morning (she lives across the back yard from me) to help with the cats and would take me to Kaiser. I hardly slept at all and was exhausted when I had to get up to use the bathroom in the morning. I had it in my head that I HAD to feed the furkids myself so I tried to, though it ended up with me in tears, shaking violently and barely making it back to bed. S came over about an hour later and got the cats fresh water, scooped the litter box (I hated, but hated asking G and S to do that chore for me!) and brought me more water and the bottle of Rescue Remedy she found by the kitchen sink. She said she'd be back in a few hours to take me to my Dr. appointment at Kaiser. I rested as long as I could and I made an appointment with her chiropractor for Friday morning.

I got up again to try to get myself together for the appointment, my wallet, check book, glasses, mobile phone, etc. I collapsed on the bed again for another hour or so before I heard S's footsteps in the back garden. SHIT! I realized I still didn't have underwear on! S came in and I told her my dilemma. She said she needed to pull the car around and she'd get me in a few minutes. So I took out a pair that looked the least challenging to get on and fumbled around--in a great deal of pain--getting them on after about the fifth try. When I stood up, I realized I had put them on wrong. At that point I really didn't give a shit anymore. I pulled my messy matted hair back, put my glasses on and hobbled out front to wait for S. She parked along the street and I very slowly slid into her car but could not reach over to close the door. S needed to run back up to her place for her ID which gave me time by myself to try to settle into the seat. I so did not want to moan and groan the whole trip so I gripped the handle over the door and did deep breathing exercises while I waited for her to return. Once we were underway, she turned on the seat warmer. I don't know why or how, but somehow between the great lumbar support in Subarus and the seat warmer, my back and hip eased and I was actually able to walk (well, limp) through the parking lot and across the street to the medical building.

I had avoided going to Kaiser for the back problems because all I expected was I'd get a cursory look-over, answer a couple of questions and be sent home with a bottle of pills. I underestimated them. After the doctor showed up 15 minutes late (by which time I was in great pain again) I got a cursory look-over, answered a couple of questions, got sent to the lab for a blood test and urine test (she thought, because I had a slight fever, I might have a bladder infection--in fact the blood test she ordered looks like one that is ordered to look at kidney function too--Whiskey. Tango. Foxtrot???) and sent me home with THREE bottles of pills (Vicodin, which did nothing, Flexeril, which actually did help but really made me drowsy, and prescription ibuprofen). Whoop-dee-flippin'-doo!

S brought me home and I took a couple of Vicodin which, as I said, did nothing at all. I checked in at the office but had to cut my call short because I was getting very uncomfortable again. I took a Flexeril and went back to bed. The muscle relaxer actually eased the discomfort and I managed to sleep for a couple of hours before getting up to feed the cats. Yes, I was able to actually get up and feed my cats! By myself! (Simon was probably the most relieved by this as he was freaked out by all of the people he didn't know coming into his house and making him hide under the bed.) I lay on the bed while Billie ate and checked in on my regular Web sites for a while. I decided what I really needed was sleep and took another Flexeril before going to bed (at 7:00 pm!). I woke up around 3:00 a.m. feeling sore again, so I got up and took one last Flexeril so I could get some rest. The pill worked, but Simon decided to be Freaky Boy and get into everything knowing there wasn't much I could do to stop him. I reached over and got the blue post-it note pad and the pen I had put on my bed stand and made a shopping list for when S took me to the chiropractor: a heating pad and can of compressed air (the sound stops Simon in his tracks).

I was feeling sore and icky when I got up but I was absolutely determined to not take any more medication before I saw the chiropractor. S came to collect me (I not only had underwear on, but it was on the right way this time! Thank You, Flexeril!) and we were off. The ass-warming seats worked their magic again on the way to the chiropractor, though I had a bit of difficulty hobbling in. The chiropractor visit was COMPLETELY DIFFERENT from the Kaiser visit. Oh My Stars! She explained a little bit about the way the spine and nervous system work together, then, explaining the function of every set of nerves along the spine, took a detailed health history. Then we went back for x-rays (which Kaiser did NOT do). She analyzed the images and gave me a treatment. Her specialty is the NUCCA technique, which isn't the snappy/cracky/poppy adjustment we tend to associate with chiropractors. NUCCA concentrates on the top vertebrae where the base of the skull meets the spinal column. Essentially, it's getting my head on straight! As I lay there while she applied pressure below/behind my ear, I was a bit skeptical. But I did feel a little better afterward, I had to admit. She took a second set of x-rays to see if the adjustment realigned the Atlas area but we didn't have time to look at them before her next appointment. I certainly wasn't up dancing a polka, but I was feeling a bit better. I made an appointment for Saturday and bought S lunch to thank her for helping me.

I was feeling a little achy in the evening, so I took one of the prescription ibuprofen before I went to bed. Unlike the Vicodin, these actually seemed to smooth the edge off of the pain (with a little help from the heating pad). I was a little bummed about that because I really wanted to detox all of the drugs out of my system, but I also needed to rest. As I lay in bed trying to relax myself to go to sleep, I realized that I had stopped using the old Swiffer broom stick to prop me up. Simon curled up next to me and sighed.

Saturday morning I felt better than I have in a month! I was still stiff and kind of sore, especially in the hip and along the back of my leg, but I felt like I might be able to do a bit more than just function. I got over to Rockridge way early for my appointment with the chiropractor (aw heck, let's just call her Dr. Doyle), so I took a walk around the block. My hip and leg were getting more sore so I stopped in at the store/coffee house next door and got an iced jasmine tea. The guy at the counter referred to Dr. Doyle as the "neighbourhood miracle worker" and said that a few times a year she'll charge patients half-price for treatments and then donate all her proceeds for the day to a charity like breast cancer research, which made me like her even more. I had time so I took another walk around the block, simply because I could (painful thought it was). I went in for my appointment and noticed she was a few minutes behind schedule which is no problem because her regular appointments are short. As she finished with the guy before me, the guy scheduled after me shuffled in. He looked like he was really uncomfortable so I offered to let him switch with me, which he thanked me for but declined. Dr. Doyle and I talked about the second set of x-rays, which showed that I was slightly back in alignment and then she measured my hip and leg alignment and noted that they were off again. She did the adjustment and as we were settling the bill, I saw her fliers for an event later in the month where new patients pay 1/2 price if they bring in groceries to help feed the poor. So, if you're in the East Bay and are looking for a chiropractor without the violent snap and crackle of other chiropractors, let me know and I'll send you the flyer.

Anyway, I felt even better after the treatment, good enough to toodle through Trader Joe's for a few things. I needed to take an ibuprofen this morning and the hip and leg still get tired pretty quickly, but I am amazed that I'm able to sit nearly pain-free and stand up without a painful "hitch" and can do things more easily like clean litter boxes and vacuum the floor. I don't feel so good about having spent over $800 on getting my back fixed, but am thankful that most of that will be reimbursed. I'm thankful to my Internet Friends who, even if they couldn't come over to help (being across the country or in Europe and all that), sent me loads of good wishes and healing vibes. I am also thankful beyond description for friends like S, G & C, who have now seen me at my most crippled and helpless; a state I never, EVER wanted anyone to ever have to see me in. They are my heroes. I do wonder, sometimes, if I'll ever be able to stand up and not have to think about standing up. Or leaning down. Or walking.

And now I really, really, truly hope that this is the LAST post about my damn back!

Labels: back pain, Billie, friendship, furkids, gratitude, JesusBloodyChrist, Simon

   ~~ victoria on 6:49 PM ~~    1 comments

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23 September, 2007

Simon Sunday: Dr. Snugglebunny On The Case 

I'm now going into my third week of back (and leg) pain issues. Last week I was virtually crippled with it: I missed work for three days and was effectively house-bound from Friday evening until I went to the acupuncturist on Tuesday. This level of pain--and its duration--is all new to me and has, at times, been terrifying for the cats. They're used to my Donald Duck temper tantrums, but did not know what to do when I'd shriek in agony just trying to sit on the toilet or get into or out of bed.

Last weekend it got to the point where they had to make adjustments to their own habits. I pretty much couldn't bend down to put their food dishes on the floor in their usual spots, so they started eating on higher surfaces: kitchen table for Simon, on top of my bed for Billie. They both had a bit of difficulty adjusting to this (especially since I always shoo Simon OFF of the table when it was time to feed them). Billie still pulls Diva spells where she really doesn't want to be bothered with jumping on the bed to eat, but eventually she will, if sometimes grudgingly.

The other adjustment they've made is not having their litter boxes scooped out quite as often as they're used to. On a good day, I can scoop once in the morning and once in the evening: most days they just get scooped once. The adjustment was made easier thanks to Gwen and Chad, who brought over a fresh bag of litter. I had managed to dump and clean one of the boxes and Chad volunteered to dump the second box, bless him, and he filled both boxes with new litter.

(I cannot even begin to express my gratitude for some amazing friends--near and far--who have volunteered to do shopping and other chores for me and insisting that I quit trying to be macho about getting things done around here. You all know who you are and you all completely, truly and utterly ROCK! Thank you!)

Besides making lifestyle adjustments, Billie and Simon have been first-rate caregivers, at least as much as wee beasties can be. The way they behave is a good barometer for how well I'm doing. I knew last Sunday night that I was in big trouble when Simon AND Billie slept in bed with me and never fought or even growled at each other (conversely, since I've become slightly more mobile and shriek less often, their "cease fire" has lifted and they're fighting more often). Simon has been doing everything he can to keep me comfortable when I'm in bed. He'll curl up on my "lap" when I'm laying on my back and he's been giving me neck and shoulder rubs until his little paws were worn out. He also brings me his toys when he thinks I need cheering up (though I can't get down to pick them up). Billie gives me lots of head and leg rubs of encouragement and greets me cheerily after I get out of bed (which takes me forever and requires a lot of cussing) in the morning.

Thankfully, acupuncture seems to be helping, though it's tiny bit by tiny bit. It's been incredibly frustrating having my life stop and nearly being unable to take care of myself--and the furkids--at all. I've been lucky to have help available (even if I am too humiliated to ask anyone to wash my knickers for me) and to have had the best Feline Care in the world. If only I could teach Billie and Simon to shave my legs for me...

A co-worker and I talked about prioritizing caring for myself last week and he asked me, "gee you think your body's trying to tell you something?"

"Yep." I replied. "Message received!" I'm going to make some big changes to my life: I don't want my family to ever have to endure a month like this one, ever again.

Labels: back pain, Billie, cats, friendship, furkids, gratitude, Simon, Simon Sunday

   ~~ victoria on 3:37 PM ~~    0 comments

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15 September, 2007

The One Where It Takes Me Ten Minutes Just To Put My Underwear On 

Looking around my cubicle Tuesday, I was growing dismayed with the somewhat chaotic state of the folders that I had inherited. So, attempting to bring order to my workspace, I started sorting and organizing boxes and buckets of files. At one point I felt a slight twinge in my lower back but it wasn't much and, though I took it easy walking back to the Ferry Building, I mostly forgot all about it. I came home and fed the cats: I stayed in the bedroom with Billie and had a quick lie down while she ate her supper. Everything was just dandy until I tried to get up. Muscles spasmed, a nerve became pinched and I suddenly could only wash my hands and brush my teeth by kneeling in front of the bathroom sink.

(Those were the Good Old Days...)

I woke up in pain later that night and had trouble going back to sleep. Around 4:30 a.m. Simon finally came and snuggled around my head, purring. That relaxed me enough that I finally slept. I "snoozed" the alarm and went in to work an hour late (I would have called in sick but had a meeting and, well, it's a week where I really had to be at the office). I asked a co-worker who teaches yoga what asanas I might try to unlink my back and she suggested a couple of easier, more gentle ones to try. I hobbled my way through work, modifying my cubicle so that I could type and write standing up (sitting was rather out of the question at that point). I came home that night and realized that I had forgotten to stop and pick up ibuprofen. I figured, though, that between the yoga and relaxation and icing my back, I should be all right. After all, that's worked in the past and these incidents always started clearing up after a day or so.

A little after 2:00 a.m. Thursday morning I awoke to a back that was shrieking with agony. I tried the yoga asanas. I tried ice. I tried massaging. Nothing helped. At 3:15 a.m. I was finally so desperate that I put my green polar fleece jacket on over my oversized pink flower pyjama bottoms, put on my glasses and grabbed my keys and went to the 24-hour Wallgreens for some ibuprofen. As I got to my corner, I seriously considered heading over to the ER, hoping that maybe I could get a prescription for a muscle relaxer (which I had never taken in my life). I decided that Wallgreens was closer and faster and, since I hate medicating and rarely do it anyway, a small handful of ibuprofen might take the edge off of the pain enough that I'd be able to function. Then, as I turned onto Otis, an evil thought crept in about how nice it must be for those people who have boyfriends/girlfriends/spouses who would go to Wallgreens for them. I've worked hard to not indulge myself in such pity parties lately, but this one had the positive effect of getting my mind off of how fucking much my back was hurting. I pulled into the lot, shuffled inside the store and got two bottles of Wall-uprofen (they had a buy one get one free sale), a bottle of Vitamin Water and, miraculously, remembered to pick up a pack of toilet paper (I had been forgetting to do that for almost a week). I stifled a scream as I got back into the car (have you ever tried getting in and out of a car with mostly cloth seats?), opened the Vitamin Water, opened one of the bottles of ibuprofen and took four of them before starting the car.

Unable to sleep and somewhat delirious, I took this photo and, because there was nothing better to do, posted it on my Flickr stream:



(My thanks to those who posted kind comments on the photo, BTW...)

The pills did take the edge off enough that I was able to lie down for a little while before the alarm went off, though I never did go back to sleep. By the time I made it to work, I was exhausted and still in incredible pain. My game plan was to the input only for the stuff that HAD to be in by Friday and then take the next ferry back to Alameda. Well, it went slowly and I only ended up leaving an hour early. Actually, I had planned all week to be on the 4:10 ferry on Thursday because I was going to SFlickr that night. However, considering I hadn't slept since 2:00 a.m. and the state of my back, there was no way I was in any shape to drive across the bridge and socialize. I was bitterly disappointed at missing the SFlickr meet up; the one thing I had been looking forward to all week...I still want to cry, I'm so upset about that.

Between the ibuprofen and a rearrangement of my body pillow (doubled over and placed under my knees so I slept only on my back), I managed to get a full night's sleep. Friday it was back to the office to finalize the data I had put in and then start on the less time-critical stuff. My back was actually quite a bit worse, but at least I had slept so I managed the best I could. Every move hurt. It was all I could do to shower and get dressed. Have you ever tried getting dressed WHEN YOU CAN'T FUCKING BEND IN ANY DIRECTION? I nearly abandoned the underwear and went commando. Interestingly enough, the only thing that seems to not bother my back is walking, though it's much slower going lately and I've taken nearly everything out of my backpack to lighten the load.

And then there's the cats. Mind you, they've been very good at trying to nurse me back to health. Simon is constantly giving me shoulder rubs and he'll actually lie on my stomach to help straighten out my spine. Billie gives me leg rubs for encouragement. But everything I have to do to care for them requires bending, squatting, and crawling around on the floor. Friday morning I dropped Billie's dish, scattering a few kibbles outside of it and eliciting a dirty look from her. She ate her food anyway, then promptly horked it all back up. Which meant being on the floor to clean up that mess. I'm always spilling their water, trying to replace the water dish and am always begging Simon to move out of the way so I can pour his kibble into his dish. DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON DEALING WITH THE LITTER BOXES!

So that brings us to now, nearly 10:00 p.m. Saturday night. I'm still in an unbelievable amount of pain: I managed to write this post because I found one particular way to position myself in the chair where I'm not in constant shrieking agony and I ain't moving unless I absolutely have to. I still have trouble showering and dressing. This afternoon, after my shower, I stood in the doorway to my bedroom, holding my underwear and sobbing because I had spent ten minutes trying to get them on and could not. Once I was finally "dressed", I ended up watching most of Bread and Tulips (a very sweet Italian movie) standing up because I couldn't find any way to sit that wasn't excruciating. This is the closest I've come to not being able to take care of myself and it is terrifying and depressing all at the same time (which probably isn't going to help me in recovering from this).

At this point, I'm going to see if there's any way I can see my acupuncturist or find a chiropractor that uses ultrasound therapy (that used to help). But I'm also hoping that it will respond to a couple of days of rest. I'm not sure I can take much more of this. Physically, I'm beyond my breaking point, and emotionally...I'm pretty damn close.

Labels: back pain, cats, domesticity, furkids, gah, JesusBloodyChrist

   ~~ victoria on 10:17 PM ~~    0 comments

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