I had an 11:30 am Pain Management appointment and didn't get home until 1:30 pm. What a surprise. I wasn’t expecting to get a steroid injection because I had gotten one 6 weeks ago, and at that time, the doctor scheduled an appointment to see me in February. I thought today’s appointment was a follow-up for medication refills, where I never see the doctor; the medical assistant just takes my vitals, asks me some questions, comes back with prescriptions signed by the doctor. Imagine my surprise when the medical assistant has me sign a consent form and tells me that the doctor will see me soon.
The doctor then asks me what percent I feel I have gotten better since my injury. It actually took me a while to come up with a number because I hadn’t thought about it in those terms. I am guessing about 80% - the fact that I am still uncomfortable enough during the day to take Vicodin a few times, plus waking up in the morning because of the pain makes me realize that I am not ready for “normal” life. The doctor then recommended another injection. Eeeeep!
As I’m leaving the consultation room and into the procedure room, the doctor asks me, “So, is the pain down your right leg or your left?” Um… what?? YOU don’t KNOW?? I can feel my blood pressure rising (speaking of which, my BP has been increased more than usual the last few months from my norm, and my diastolic is above 80. I’m gonna have to research and find out what’s going on.), and I’m starting to feel panicky.
The first time I had the injection, I was laying down with my head pointing north. Okay, I don’t know if it was north, or south or east or west, but my point is that this time, I was laying down in the opposite direction. I didn’t ask the nurse why – I was too nervous. My first injection was NOT my proudest moment: I screamed. And I cried, a little. No one prepared me for the amount of pain that goes into a friggin’ lumbar steroid injection, even if it is over in less than a minute! Actually, I take that back: a friend did tell me about her experience, and I read up on other people’s injections, but… it’s not the same as actually going through it! So, as I’m getting onto the procedure table, the first thing that pops into my brain is: did the doctor ask which leg because he put the injection on the wrong side, and now he’s having me lay down the opposite way now? But I still can’t get my brain to get the message to my mouth to ask the nurse. Mind you, I’m panicking, nervous, and still not sure WHY I agreed to do this again.
The nurse preps me, the doctor comes in, procedure done. I didn’t cry this time, but I did scream a little into the pillow. I don’t care what anyone says, it was warranted. And I suppose I was a bit more prepared for it this time around. And I’m also glad there wasn’t any electrical problems this time – the last time I was there, there was a power outage right before I went into the procedure room, and as the emergency generators kicked in, I thought to myself, “Do those machines in the procedure room have to be recalibrated??”
I walked out feeling a bit better, a little less nerve pressure going down my left leg. But as I’m sitting here, writing this out, I’m beginning to feel the discomfort coming back again. I know it can take a while for it to kick in, so I’ll be keeping tabs on how I feel in the next couple days. Speaking of “discomfort”, my primary doctor asked me how I was feeling, and I had said that I was feeling uncomfortable during the day, anywhere from 5-7 out of 10, depending on the day. She looked at me and said, “So you’re still having pain?” I looked at her and slowly said, “Yeeeeah, I guess so.” I guess I don’t really think that what I am feeling these days is “pain” because it’s more of a dull aching, stiffness, just uncomfortable. I equate “pain” with what I felt back in the beginning of the year, when everything hurt with sharp, stabbing pain that made me cry every night. These days, I take a Vicodin, and it takes away a little of the edge of the discomfort I’m having, helps me to stop thinking about how uncomfortable I am so I can focus on the things I need to do. And then I take my nighttime regimen of 5 pills so I can be relaxed enough to try to lay down and sleep. I think as soon as the sleep thing is figured out, I’ll really feel that I am able to get back to “normal.”
So, as I’m getting a better handle on my pain, I’m starting to get some of my movement again, which makes me think about what I need to do next: lose weight. I’ve been going to see my primary doctor every month for follow-ups, and every month, I get weighed and that number on the scale has been inching up and up. Quite depressing, honestly. I feel slightly trapped, though, because I know that I need to lose weight to help my back, and yet, because of my back, I can’t seem to exercise much, if at all. There are days when I walk about 10-15 minutes, and I can’t walk another step. And I know people say that 10 minutes is better than nothing, but… still, quite depressing.
I was reminded for the need to lose weight today when the nurse was prepping me today for the procedure. He was looking for my hip bone. If it takes THAT long to look for my hip bone, something’s wrong. Chubster.
