Stephen King wrote in his book "On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft," "You can, you should, and if you're brave enough to start, you will." (emphasis added) He called this a "permission slip." Couple this with Ranier Maria Rilke's "Letters to a Young Poet" (which I talk about here) and the whole picture emerges: when faced with the questions of who we are and what we want to be, we need to harness our passion (Rilke's "I must"), couple it with the strength of our heart (courage), and not get in the way of our own potential.
#GoTheDist 2016
Stephen King wrote in his book "On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft," "You can, you should, and if you're brave enough to start, you will." (emphasis added) He called this a "permission slip." Couple this with Ranier Maria Rilke's "Letters to a Young Poet" (which I talk about here) and the whole picture emerges: when faced with the questions of who we are and what we want to be, we need to harness our passion (Rilke's "I must"), couple it with the strength of our heart (courage), and not get in the way of our own potential.
Exhausted
Bloodwork, Ultrasound, CT, HIDA (nuclear test of gallbladder function). Left hospital with anti-nausea meds (Bentyl and Zofran). They recommended a follow-up with a gastroenterologist.
took a nap under a Geiger counter. |
Underwater
1. I saw #RunChat a week or so ago and popped my head in. I love how supportive David (@RunningBecause) is, but the fact is that I'm already motivated -- that has rarely waned (except when it comes to diet because pizza is delicious). I've been champing at the bit. Perhaps my running life movie (see below) shouldn't be titled "Out of Gas" but rather "Broken Down Jalopy."
I was okay when it was just my back. But now it's gallbladder(?) + back. I feel very overwhelmed by this. I just want (1) a healthy day (without feeling like I need to vomit all the time) and (2) a day without pain (either my gallbladder or my back--which is feeling the effects of the dehydration) (and (3) a day without my ear ringing... but that's not wearing me down so long as I have a kitteh bent on purring in my ear at night).
2. I've been reading Martinus' blog (@300lbsandrunnin) lately and really identifying with what he's been going through. Life is hard sometimes. It's messy. It's ugly. And always having to start over is excruciating because it's not like starting with a clean slate at the start line, or as I said to Martinus, "I see it like wanting to climb a mountain but first having to dig your way out of a cavern with your bare hands." You exhaust yourself even before even getting to the point where you feel like you can once again take up fight.
I feel like I'm underwater and unable to get my head above the surface. Is it depression? Maybe? I guess? I feel very much like I'm never going to get to a place where my body and mind are in the same place. It's frustrating. I'm angry. I'm in mourning. And I'm also terrified. I don't know the way forward.
I was thinking about the tweets above when I remembered my swim lessons as a kid. They taught me the survival float -- face down floating for when you're in open/rough water (floating on your back only works in calm water). This strategy conserves energy for when you need to use it.
Perhaps I need to remember that I'm using my energy to handle the waves and that pretty soon I'll be in calmer water.
Fat Slob
It really bothered me when he used the hashtag "#everyoneisavictim" -- dude did not back down at all from his stance that calling a teenager a "fat slob" is okay to do. It showed (1) no compassion and (2) arrogance that his unsolicited evaluation of a teenager was somehow not hurtful to the kid or even other people reading his tweets. Kids who are bullied are victims.
BUT in the end, I actually did try to follow his suggestion. I think I found John on Twitter and said "hi :) I would love to chat with you some time about health, fitness, and being a positive role model." (He followed my account shortly thereafter.)
So this post is a 2-part call to action:
1. Tell Jake Ballard how fat shaming doesn't work (tell him your story, send him studies, send him links of football players actually helping kids be fit (NFL Play60), etc.)
2. Do what you can to help end fat shaming in your communities and/or help share what you've learned about nutrition/exercise with someone receptive to making a positive change in their life.
Baseline
Some doctors and scientists think that there might be a genetic/hereditary component to aneurysms. As such, my primary care doctor has wanted me to get an MRA for quite a while. The test is like the reverse of an MRI. An MRI's image filters out the moving parts of your body to create a picture of what is not moving. An MRA filters out the still parts to create a picture of what is moving (i.e., my blood).
The result is this:
looking straight at my face |
Looking at the right side of my face |
Not Dead Yet
On September 1st, I called Teladoc because I had some pain in my upper right abdominal area and wasn't sure whether that was a "Go to your PCP" type of issue or "Go to ER, you're about to explode" issue. Teladoc went with the former so I called my PCP and asked if I could come in sometime that week. I get a call back to come in immediately.
She poked around a bit. She knows that I live on the higher end of the pain scale, so for me to say that something is painful means that it's (1) new pain and (2) above my regular threshold. She wants me to get tests, but says that I can get them faster if I go to the hospital. So that's what I did.
I got in a cab and took myself to the hospital where I had blood drawn by a really hot nurse (and almost threw up on him/fainted). In addition to the blood tests, they sent me for an ultrasound, and a CT scan. Everything came back pretty unremarkable except for a few elevated blood levels that could be explained by having thrown up the night before. So they decided to admit me to run a test the next morning.
The most frustrating part of being in the hospital was the lack of communication between the ER doctors, the surgeon, the nurses. They would ask me what the other ones said. Um. Don't you have my chart?
At that point, I called my brother and asked him to bring me a change of clothes and my glasses (so I could take my contacts out), my external phone battery, and of course my otter. He sat with me in the ER for a bit and we had a really good talk about life and stuff.
The test the next morning was pretty effing cool. It's called a HIDA. They inject me with a radioactive isotope (technetium 99) while lying underneath a Geiger counter. They record how well my liver passes the 99Tc to my gallbladder. So yeah... for 6 hours I was radioactive. Sadly, no spidey powers. (notice the metal syringe in the photo below -- that's so the technician limits his exposure)
Fortunately/unfortunately, my liver and gallbladder did their job. We were no closer to an answer. Odd thing was that I was in quite a bit of pain before the scan (they couldn't give me anything stronger than Tylenol the night before the test and I hadn't eaten in 24 hours at that point) and after the test I was in less pain. They offered to keep me at the hospital and give me more fluids, but at that point, we still didn't have a diagnosis. I was discharged with instructions to follow up with a gastroenterologist.
I went to the gastroenterologist on 9/11 and he reviewed my blood work and test results. He wants to do an endoscopy (on October 9th) of my upper GI tract to get a better idea of why I'm still in pain (and can't really handle meat, fats, alcohol, carbonation). He thinks I may have some biliary sludge that just didn't show up on the tests.
My gut instinct (see what I did there?) is that my gallbladder will be removed.
I just want to get this over and done with because I'm just tired, irritable, and hungry.
But not dead yet.
Dogfight: Isn't it funny?
8th Grade |
6th Grade |
So when I was in 6th grade at my first dance, and an 8th grader asked me to dance, it never dawned on me that I was a walking punchline. I had kind of known him from my brother's baseball team, and I guess I must have thought that he recognized me too and wanted to be nice to me. He pulled me in the middle of the dance floor and as I started dancing, I could see from the corner of my eye his friends huddled together, laughing.
I spent most of the first act with tears in my eyes -- especially the song where Rose (the female lead) reacts to what happened at the party: "Isn't it funny? Isn't it funny? Isn't it funny you believed that it was real? Pretty funny. All disasters have an upside. You can find one if you tried. You went dancing, you were dancing, you were dancing with a guy."
Dogfight kinda brought up all these feelings -- of inadequacy, of being an outsider, and learning to be distrustful of men and their intentions. After my mom died (8th grade), many of the "popular" boys started being nicer to me (I'm not sure why but I think one of the boys' moms had something to do with it). I was thankful, but still not trusting. I was shocked, but not trusting, when in 9th grade gym, one of the most popular kids in the whole school (the older brother on the boy I had a crush on for most of my life) wanted to be my gym mixed-doubles tennis partner. I was shocked, but thankful, when my crush came to my Sweet 16.
[ugh.... this was a hard one to write... took 2 weeks to really wrap my head around it.]
[Edit -- a friend from HS helped me to remember that not all guys in HS were assholes -- so shout out to ND who saw me walking home from school one day in the middle of winter and offered me a ride home. Thanks to JH for picking up the phone the day I needed him. And thanks for JE/PE for making the first xmas without my mom that much more bearable.]
The Problem(s) with "Dear Fat People"
So... the whole Nicole Arbour "Dear Fat People" video thing...
**deep breath**
1. Obese people are fat, not blind. We know we're fat. We don't need some chick with a big mouth and a rabid following not talking to us but rather yelling at us as if we're complete idiots. It's not like we need some Youtube channel to provide the same epiphany our very own eyes can provide.
1a. She makes a joke about fat people not being able to chase her down... LOL. She doesn't know about us athletic fat people -- you know, the ones that finish marathons, IronMans, Tough Mudders, etc. And she also doesn't know about sneaky, light-on-our-feet fat people that don't need to be fast because we're so nimbly bimbly after all those Zumba, yoga, and barre classes. She forgets about the strong ones who could dead lift her heartless, humorless body.
1b. There are many of us who aren't strong enough to weather the gale-force bullshit spewing from her mouth ("You have to be really f*cking slow to be offended by satire," she says in the [follow-up] video. "If you can't handle the truth it means you're a psychopath."). And for as much as she thinks her "truth bombs" can help people, there's collateral damage for which she doesn't seem willing to take responsibility. She offered some lame ass apology, "I never intended for kids to be watching it and I'm sorry if any kids who didn't understand that I'm a comedian were shocked or upset." As if kids are the only ones who can be hurt by her words.
2. Yay! Another skinny person telling us how our fatness offends them using the transparent guise of "helping us." **eyeroll** If you want to help people, you ASK what they need. And not all fat people are created alike, and not all fat people need the same help. Some people need easy things like motivation, accountability, recipes. Some people need experts (see below).
2b. No where in her video or links does she offer actual help. No online resources or support groups. No recommendations to go see your doctor and get a physical, work with a dietitian, work with a NASM-certified trainer. Nothing.
3. Her OPINION (i.e., not really a "truth bomb") really misses the mark. In my opinion (based on talking to a lot of people, reading a lot of books, studies, and other materials) excessive body fat is a symptom more than it is a disease. I have said time and time again that I think that obesity is more often than not the byproduct of trauma (physical, mental, psychological, sexual). And the more I started thinking about it, the more I came to believe that most food/exercise/body disorders (as they're interrelated and on a spectrum) are as well. (And if it's not trauma, there's still other outside forces that can influence a person's size, shape, and health -- but I'll leave it to other people to argue socioeconomic and other points.)
3a. Making fun of the survivors of trauma makes her an asshole, not a comedian.
3b. Making fun of the survivors of trauma for not being able to wrap their heads/bodies around the trauma in their lives doesn't help people to address the trauma. It re-traumatizes them. For example, look at how many people gain or lose weight as a barrier between them and the people who sexually abused them. You wouldn't yell at a bulimic to eat a cheeseburger when the real issue was someone violating their body. Equally, you shouldn't tell a fat person to put down the cheeseburger when the real issue was someone violating their body.
3c. People who have endured trauma should probably start with professional help.
(a) Cause you never know what trauma is lurking underneath all the layers of fat, and sometimes what's lurking needs a safe place to make its debut.
(b) It's really easy to transfer one harmful behavior to another. For instance -- people who go from being food addicts to exercise addicts is not a myth. It's an actual thing.
(c) People have been known to do some pretty harmful things in order to chase down their unrealistic goals.
I'm sure there's more... but I'm kinda annoyed with myself for even giving it this much time/thought when really I should have just said "Bitch please."
Old photo is a perfect salute to Nicole. |
SEO Click Bait
Sympathy Pain
LOPMIAAMO -- the new FOMO
In the first few Fitbloggins, I think we were all still getting to know each other and we really saw the hotel as our space to connect. In more recent times, I feel like the hotel is the cruise ship and everyone is going on shore excursions (tea, Rockies baseball game, Red Rocks, etc.).
My LOPMIAAMO usually stems from the pre-Fitbloggin dread of not feeling like I have done enough to earn my spot here cause I haven't exercised enough or lost enough weight. Or hell, I haven't even blogged a lot/at all lately. I know it still shocks you all to find out that I am an introvert. (No lies, I really am.)
Then there is the always-present nagging voice in the back of my head that no one wants to play with me. Last-picked for kickball kind of stuff. When that LOPMIAAMO sets in, I usually just wander off by myself. I have done a lot of walking in Denver cause of that.
This year my LOPMIAAMO is a bit of the above with also having had a busy month leading up to Fitbloggin15. I just didnt read any of the "ZOMG LET'S DO THIS!" posts. I signed up for Fitbloggin and the hotel months ago and then tucked that away in my brain only to unwrap it to book my flight and get packed.
Last year the LOPMIAAMO really got me down. And this year, I didnt plan any better. LOPMIAAMO is worse than FOMO because it means i could have done something about it and just didn't for whatever reason.
The solution is finding a way to reengage. I will get there.
[Edit: I realize now that had I planned better, I would have taken a day trip to the Anschutz Wellness Center....]
The Pre-Fitbloggin Post
So... I don't want to surprise/shock any of you all if you see me using this at Fitbloggin.
I don't always need it, but certain things like traveling and sitting down for long periods of time exacerbate my lower back pain. Lately, I have either had this or my big umbrella with me when travelling just in case.
I freaked out a little while ago about how people would handle seeing FGvW with a cane. Kelly/@CurvyFitGirl reminded me that I can't control how people react. But please don't be too worried if you see me using this prop. I assure you that I am fighting every day to get through this.
My other yearly pre-Fitbloggin post and disclaimers:
(1) my brain is a sieve when it comes to names. Please forgive me when i forget your name the first, second, and twelfth time.
(2) I am actually an introvert. Sometimes I need some quiet or a good cry. Fitbloggin is an emotional place. But when I am out an about I am good for hugs.
(3) I back dat ass up. Beware. (Ask @DubyaWife.
When it rains...
You know how salt is hard to pour if it has absorbed any humidity? Morton's solution was to add magnesium carbonate to their salt. It absorbed the humidity before the sodium chloride. This meant, even when it rained, the salt would still be free flowing.
This is totally different than the connotation now attributed to the phrase regarding luck -- that when either something good or bad happens it tends to trigger a deluge of the same luck.
Anyways...
Y'all know I've had some pretty spectacular misses when it comes to dating. You all know that an boy damn near made me a quadriplegic.
Well... it's pouring.
Not in the whole magnesium carbonate way (well I guess in an additive sense...), but in the whole deluge of luck way.
I don't want to count my chickens before they hatch, but just know that I'm really happy right now. Content, cared for, adored. I'm excited for all the possibilities.
It's raining and I'm out there dancing.
Not whether you win or lose; it's how you play the game.
This year I'll be leading a discussion with Janet Oberholtzer on a topic that is near and dear to my heart: Living With Pain: A Survival Guide. Both Janet and I have had some pretty fun injuries. I think there's a big difference between suffering an injury and learning to live with one. Living with an injury isn't about accepting limitations or accepting defeat -- it's about moving into a new phase of your life with a bit of grace, humor, forgiveness, and a plan of attack.
I can't wait to see you all there.
Well Hello There!
I have a free box this week to try the service. I have 3 meals (Argentine Spiced Steak, Pan Seared Chicken with tomato-barley hash and charred broccoli, and Creamy Pear and Asparagus risotto with goat cheese, walnuts, and mint), but I got to choose from five. And yes, they have a vegetarian meal plan option.
I really liked how they showed calorie counts and ingredients before you ordered.
Got my first box today and couldn't wait to dig in. Not too complicated--it comes with photo recipe cards that lay out each step very well along with the timing. The portion sizes (I opted for 2 servings-- dinner and lunch the next day) are great and it gives you the breakdown of each pre-portioned ingredient (in case you want to omit it) (I love fresh asparagus; it does not love me).
I think this is great for people who are intimidated by cookbooks, grocery stores, and/or their kitchen (ahem...Dad), but want to learn how spices and flavors play with each other in a controlled environment.
I am on my balcony now, enjoying the evening breeze with my meal of Argentine Spiced Steak and couscous with a chimmichurri sauce and a glass of wine. All-in-all a pleasant and delicious experience!
If only Hello Fresh came with someone to wash the dishes.
PS: This was not a sponsored post. If you want to try your hand at some home-cooked meals with @HelloFresh, you can save $40 on your first order with my code FNJNPK at www.hellofresh.com
[[EDIT: So... I made the 2nd meal, a chicken dish and promptly suffered a week's worth of food poisoning. Hello Fresh (1) refunded my money and (2) changed their mailing practices. I'm a little gunshy about giving up control of picking out my own food now.]]
Come & Gone
But it doesn't mean I won't tip my hat to it in times where, if it existed, it wouldn't hurt to have it on my side.
I had my neck surgery on 12/12/12 at 12pm.
I scheduled my back surgery for May 4th (As in "May the Fourth be with you").
About three weeks ago I made the call to cancel it. I left a voicemail.
The next day the surgeon's scheduler called to ask me if I could re-schedule it because the doctor had a conflict.
Basically, the fates didn't want me to have the surgery.
Today is May 5th and is a good day.
I'll take it.
I get knocked down, but I get up again
All morning Saturday and part of the afternoon, I had been running around to prepare for that night's Ingress party to celebrate an awesome in-game operation that required world-wide cooperation. I kinda went a little overboard on cupcakes (2 kinds -- Funfetti with blue icing and pineapple upside-down cupcakes -- around 70 cupcakes total). As I was baking, I simultaneously did 4 loads of laundry.
By the time I got to the bar, I was thirsty for a beer and a chair. I drank my first beer while flitting around the room and introducing myself to the people who had come in from out of town to hang out and celebrate (DelaWHAT? Delaw[h]ere? Okay, I guess you had to be there.) I had just purchased my second beer and saw a free seat at a table. Ah, sweet feet relief.
With my right hand on the table, and my left hand holding the beer, I approached the bar stool and shifted my weight over my left leg so I could get my right butt cheek on the chair and slide on in.
WRONG
My left leg went numb and weak. It gave out under me.
In my milliseconds of panic, I realized that I was still holding my beer and that if I didn't do something, it would get everywhere and on everyone. I tilted it toward myself and made the sound of what can only be called a dying egret. I landed on my ass with a thud and beer soaking my shirt and jeans.
My back injury always catches me at the most in opportune times (ahem, in the shower). But this was the first time that I actually lost feeling in my leg and fell in around friends. (Once in college the same happened, but it was during taekwondo while throwing a roundhouse kick)
I'm so very lucky that my friend E was nearby. He and I have discussed my injury (and his injuries) quite a great deal. He knew to wave people off from trying to lift me up immediately (until I knew that everything was working and until I caught my breath). He stood guard as I gathered myself and took stock of what happened, and when I finally got myself vertical.
The next day, E posted this on his G+ page:
It was a good reminder to me that although I may have had people in that room happy/amused to see me fall, that I always get up. I've been dealing with this injury for 17 years (at varying degrees) and never once have I just laid on the ground and pitied myself. I've never asked for special considerations (other than just patience) and I've never asked for people to do for me what I could do for myself (though, I'm always grateful for assistance when I can't do for myself).
It reminded me of New Rule #8: Even on your worst day, you can be someone's hero.
And maybe there needs to be a corollary to New Rule #8: Even on your worst day, a heroic friend will be there to either help you up or be there when you get yourself standing under your own power.
A mile in her shoes, part 2
I thought I'd update that with the story of a mile that I recently walked.
On Friday night, I was playing Ingress (Go Resistance!) with friends (doing something pretty epic in terms of game play), when some people wanted to take a break and get something to eat/drink. There's very little to eat drink around the National Mall at night, so we decided to walk to a place with a few options.
Mixed Decision; Mixed Feelings
We have determined the following is medically necessary and eligible for benefits:
22558 -- Arthodesis, anterior interbody technique, including minimal discectomy to prepare interspace (other than for decompression); lumbar
22585 -- Athrodesis, anterior interbody technique, including minimal discectomy to prepare interspace (other than for decompression); each additional interspace
22851 -- Application of intervertebral biomechanical device(s) (e.g., synthetic cage(s), methylmethacrylate) to vertebral defect or interspace.But then, in the middle of the page was this:
Services NOT Eligible for Benefits
20931 -- Allograft, structural, for spine surgery only
The clinical reason for our determination is: Your doctor has asked to do surgery on the spine in your lower back. You have had back and leg pain. We asked your doctor for information about your back problem and the surgery. We have reviewed that information. We have also reviewed your health plans medical policy for spine surgery. That policy says the material your doctor has asked to use to help the bones heal together is not proven to be equal to or better than other products available for your condition. Therefore, the use of this material is not covered. The rest of your lower back surgery is covered.Translation: The ALIF fusion was approved, BUT they probably want me to use an autograph (i.e., a piece of my hip bone) as the spacer for my L5-S1 fusion versus using lab-created or cadaver bone.
If you read my blog entry, "Refuge but no relief," you know that this isn't an easy decision. The minute they slice me open, my back will never be as strong as it once was. Our bodies are amazing machines and science has yet to replicate the intricate beauty and strength of that machine.
There's also a chance of failed back surgery (i.e., the surgery isn't successful in relieving pain/other symptoms) OR that the fusion at L5-S1 creates problems for other discs (especially L3-L4, L4-L5 that are already bulging), as is common with fusions.
My gut says "wait as long as you can and try to get the hybrid surgery."
Why is this? The L5-S1 fusion is going to happen no matter what; it's just a question of when.
The fusion will most likely put added pressure on the L3-L4 and L4-L5 discs, accelerating their degeneration/bulging/herniation. If the Globus Triumph (the technology my doctor wants to use) isn't FDA approved by the time that happens, I'll most likely be looking at more fusions (decrease in range of motion/mobility). Even if the Globus Triumph is FDA approved by then, (1) I may not be a good candidate (because of the progression of the degeneration) and could be disqualified immediately; (2) my insurance may not approve the use of the device because it is too new to them, thus disqualifying me financially (this isn't something I can pay for out-of-pocket).
Like I said, it's a matter of when. The pain is restricting my life in new, fun, and unimaginable ways. My ODI Score has increased (from a 46 to a 52) mainly because I am unable to sit for periods longer than 20-30 minutes without pain (when sitting or when trying to stand up), I have trouble walking (and am ordering a cane for myself), transit is unbearable (car/taxi, bus, subway) for many reasons, and I'm having trouble cleaning my apartment (need to hire a maid). Again, ODI doesn't account for many parts of my life where I'm restricted.
Basically, I prioritize my errands/chores for good days, but on all other days you can find me in bed. I'm in too much pain and too exhausted to do much else, and even if I do other things, I end up paying for it.
In all ways, this is not the life that I want to be living. I want better for myself and right now I'm not sure what that is.
Good Day, Bad Day, Calculated Risk Day
For the past month or two, my back has not been cooperating. Because of this, I pretty much have stuck to home/work and errands with the occasional drink at a non-crowded bar with very protective friends.
But yesterday was a GORGEOUS day after all this snow and I was feeling the cabin fever. I texted a friend for brunch and after we took an Ingress constitutional,winding up at the Washington Monument. All told, more walking than I've done in a while.
I took a bunch of pictures and posted them on Facebook. Someone replied the the photos and said "I hope this means you were out and about in today's nice weather and feeling better!"
Yes. The weather was PHENOMENAL. As for feeling better.... I don't really know how to address that. People often see me have a good day and think that I'm magically cured. Or worse, they see me on a good day and think I'm exaggerating the bad days, or that a bad day isn't lurking in the shadows.
Ask anyone with a chronic disease, injury, or pain, that there are good days (where you have the energy to do things and a body that's on board), bad days (where you have no energy and/or a body that is not with the program), and days that are in-between.
There are days and events where one must make a calculated risk: we may not have the energy, we may not be feeling well, or we'll know we'll pay for it after, but there's something that's worth the expenditure or after-effects. For example, I'm going to a 2Cellos show in April. I know that sitting for that long will not be fun, but I'm real excited for the show.
Lean on me when you're not strong
I am a proud person and don't like people seeing me weak or vulnerable. Sometimes I have no choice.
Last night the plan was to get dinner with my friends Neighbor John (so as not to confuse him and my brother John) and Amanda (who I have known since college and who has been so sweet and supportive with the whole back thing) at a local grocery store that also has a little dining area. After, I wanted to stop by the bar where my friend Kevin was DJing cause it has been a long minute since I have seen him.
Midway through my grilled cheese I knew I was in trouble. I had shifted in my chair and felt that familiar, searing pain. I whispered to Amanda that something was wrong. Eventually, it got to the point that anytime I moved you could see it on my face. I try to keep the panic and pain hidden.
The employees of the store called last call and I knew I was in trouble but had a few minutes before they were gonna kick us out. I asked Neighbor John if he could walk me home.
We waited until most of the other patrons to leave before I tried standing up. Immediately my legs started shaking as red hot pain moved through my back. My friend (inculding one of Neighbor John's friends) huddled around me wanting to help. They offered to get me a cab but I knew the motion of the cab would be too painful. They asked if I needed to go to the hospital, but the ER would have just given me pain meds and sent me on my way, as they tried to do last time.
Tears began to roll down my face; part pain, part embarrassment. Neighbor John said that he didn't realize that my back pain was this bad. Another patron (who I think was a doctor) asked if i needed help. Amanda asked the staff if they had an ice pack. Bless her she remembered.
With the ice pack I was able to take a little edge off the pain, enough to get to my feet. Amanda, John's friend, and John all helped me shuffle out of there. What would have normally been about a 10-minute walk to get home took much longer. But thanks to my friends I got home.
I am still in excruciating pain (fuck you Percocet... you have one job...) and unable to move well. I can't sit, i can shuffle a few steps before I need something to support me. I am even wearing my corset to help limit movement and provide a little support. Also, corsets are great for securing ice packs.
Today is my brother's 35th birthday. Instead of being able to celebrate with him, instead of being able to enjoy the sunlight, I am in bed trying not to move. But that gives me time to be thankful for everyone in my life who sees my pain and knows that I am fighting to stay afloat.