Time and Time Again

Well, how time has flown. My mom was evaluated by the social worker from her independent living apartment complex and it was decided she was going to need to move to the assisted living building. Yes, the one she said she’d never go to. She was furious when I told her she wasn’t going to be allowed back into her apartment as she needed much more help. I looked into the assisted living facility near to me and found they had an opening and if she passed their evaluation she would be accepted there. I know we’d looked at their facility when Mom was looking for an apartment back in August, but they wouldn’t accept dogs. They can visit anytime, just can’t stay.

I was scared to tell Mom that she couldn’t go back to the apartment and had to go to assisted living. My Aunt and Uncle were coming to visit (my mother’s brother) and they agreed to be there when I told her to be my backup. My younger daughter was in town for the weekend and she also was there for support. I gave Mom the options of either moving to the building in her independent apartment complex, or moving to Ames to be closer to me (about five miles from my house!). She, thankfully, decided to move to Ames.

Then the big rush began. Mom was getting better and they decided she was going to be released in about a week. My daughter got right on the phone and got her brothers and sister involved. Three of the four and their spouses showed up a few days later and we started packing and downsizing. First, we’d moved mom from a three-bedroom, two story house with a fairly large kitchen to a two-bedroom, two-bath apartment with a small kitchen. Now we had to cram her into a one-bedroom, one-bath apartment with a kitchenette (not even a stove, just a small refrigerator and microwave and very little storage). I also got a storage unit not too far from the apartment and we ended up with 3/4 of the items going there.

On a Saturday, the kids helped pack and sort. On Monday the hired movers came. On Monday afternoon, Tuesday and Wednesday, besides going to see Mom some of those times, I unpacked all her things and put them away in her apartment. I hung all her pictures, made the bed, did everything I could to make it as ready to live in from the get-go. Then, Thursday, April 2, she was released from therapy and I took her to Ames to her new apartment.

She has some continued therapy… PT and OT, but as of this Wednesday they released her from OT and I think Monday will be her last PT session. She has also been released from using her walker in her apartment building and outside, if I, or someone else, is with her. If she is alone she is still to use the walker outside.

She’s starting to settle in. I’ve gone almost every day and taken the dog to visit several times as well. I took one day and did some reorganization of the storage unit, and finally feel we are getting a bit more in a routine. She had some appointments in Des Moines for later this month, but I’ve convinced her to try local optometrists and dentists, and switched out her medical doctor to mine.

I will admit, I did get angry at her just a couple of days ago. I still try to be there for all her therapy sessions and she gets snarky at me when I see her not doing what the therapist says… just things like doing her exercises way too fast. She whips through them as fast as she can, just as though she can’t wait to get it over with. The therapist will say to go slow, and hold for a count of two seconds to slow her down, and she’ll do it once,then ignore them and go fast again. If I say anything, like “slow down” she just glares and me or tells me to butt out. After the therapist left the other afternoon I told her I was just trying to help and she snapped at me that “If you weren’t here, I would do what he said to do”. HUH? Because I’m here she’s not doing it? WTF? I finally snapped and just said, “I’m done”. I walked out of the door. She’s saying, “Are you coming back?”… I said, “Not today”.

Well, I drove around the block and felt horrible. I went back and although it was about 4 o’clock and she eats at 5, I walked in and said, “Let’s go for a drive and ruin your supper… and go get an ice cream cone.” I gave her a hug and told her I was sorry, that I loved her. She said, “I’m just so confused”… and that’s what I was afraid of. She really is just not what she used to be and is confused and I think she’s doing the best she can with what she has. I realized that afternoon when she was trying to start crocheting an afghan for a wedding gift for a cousin that she really didn’t remember what to do. She taught me to knit and crochet and it was sad watching her. I started it for her to the point that all she’d have to do was the pattern back and forth (and it’s a pretty simple pattern) and it will be interesting to see if she manages to get anything done when I go back next time.

I’m trying to make her happy and keep encouraging her to join the exercise group at her apartment complex, or go shopping with the group on the bus, or they go to dinner once a month, etc. They play cards and have WII bowling (that she loved at the Senior Center when she lived in her house). I’m hoping she’ll make friends and be happy there and won’t be quite so dependent on me coming and going. I hung a bird feeder outside her window on a tree and she’s enjoying the birds. Doing whatever I can to make her life a good one under the circumstances.

New Days, Old Attitude

Where do I start? I’m so frustrated. Big surprise. Mom still has a pissy attitude. “I’m never getting out of here.” “I’m leaving here in a box.”

In between those comments she’s trying to get up by herself or she doesn’t get up the way that physical therapy has taught her, she’s trying to walk without the walker, tells me she’s gotten up at night and gone to the bathroom herself, is being a brat about eating (she’s lost 5 pounds since she’s been at rehab)… and her mind is still somewhat confused, although better since she doesn’t have the heavy duty pain meds.

Yesterday they called to make a doctor appointment with the orthapedic surgeon as he wanted to see her in a month and didn’t want her to put her full weight on her bad side until then, but since she’s been ignoring that rule and doesn’t seem to be having a great amount of pain from that they want him to see her and sign off on her being able to put her full weight on that leg. She had a fit and was all upset that she was getting worse because she was going to see the doctor next monday. Trying to explain to her that she is going to check her progress was like trying to talk to a chair.

She also has PT (Physical Therapy) – where they work on her lower half. OT (Occupational Therapy) – where they work on her upper body, and ST (Speech Therapy) – where they are going trying to work on her memory. First, they put the daily appointments on a whiteboard and she constantly asks me what they mean. She’s even written them down and still can’t remember or remember to look at where she wrote it down. The ST gal put a big sign up in front of mom that tells her not to get up out of her chair and to use her call light. She keeps telling me to take it down. Because. She’s. Ignoring. It.

Yesterday they had a photocopied sheet of some exercises for her to do in her room that they didn’t have time for at PT. The therapist asked me to help her with them. Fine. Mom looked at the sheets and when I asked her if she wanted to do them, she said no – and threw them in my face.

I’ve been leaving at about 5-ish when they take her outside of her room to supper. She went to the bathroom before supper and she is to sit on the toilet and pull the call cord for the nurse to come back and help her. I’m in her room and hear a banging and it is her at the bathroom door! I ask if she called the nurse – “No”. I said firmly, “You aren’t supposed to be up without the nurse holding onto you!” I get a “SHUT UP”. ARRRRRGGGHHHHH. I just want to walk away and never go back.

Today there is ice so I’m not going down. I warned her yesterday before I left. Since she has called me every day I’ve been a few minutes late to ask me where I am (Usually about 5 minutes away), I figured she call me today. A few minutes ago? Yup. She called. Wanted to know what the weather was doing here. I told her, it was freezing rain. “Well, it isn’t doing anything here.” I happen to know after listening to the news this morning that they had some freezing rain there, too, and she hasn’t been out since she got there so how the hell would she know?!?! I know what she was implying.

They said last week at her staffing that she would probably be in rehab a month. Being with her every day and seeing how she is fighting the process, I could see her bones healing in a month and her mind still being messed up. Then I don’t know what we’ll do. She has an assisted component of her apartment complex where they can move her – it is an assisted living and memory care building. She told me when she moved into her independent living apartment that she never wanted to have to move into that building but what do you do if she can’t take care of herself? I guess maybe her negativity is rubbing off on me. Maybe she’ll be just fine in a month and will be able to go back to her apartment. I hope so. In the mean time I’m just going to go quietly crazy over here in my own world. ACK.

New Digs

In order for Medicare to cover mom’s rehab, she had to be in the hospital for three nights. Because Tuesday when she was taken to the ER went so late, she wasn’t officially admitted until after midnight so she couldn’t be moved to a skilled nursing facility until Saturday. She was fighting it. She was all about going home. (Even though she couldn’t walk – even with a walker, she could barely creep.) When the social worker came in to talk to her about which nursing facility she would like to go to she got furious. I came in and she was telling me if he showed up again she’d kick him out. She just wanted nothing to do with a perceived “nursing home”. I think she, as most elderly people, think if they go to a nursing home they’re never getting out that they’ll die there.

The social worker came back and he was nice as could be. He even recommended a place where she’d have a private room and it was in a really nice facility that we’d toured when we were looking for an apartment for Mom to move into from her house. Well, she finally calmed down and accepted she was going there. On Saturday they took her in a van (thank goodness) and although it is about 15 miles further away it is still on the same side of town and easily accessible for me.

It is a lovely place and she has a very nice room. I’ve seen nothing but nice people working there and I warned them about her attempts to get up on her own and her delusions of the evening two nights previous. I’m sure they’ve seen it all.

Hospital Time

Because my mom is elderly (83) and is technically 5’10” and weighs right about 100 lbs, it is no surprise when she fell she broke something. She has no padding. One of my goals when I moved her into a retirement community was that she be fed. She moved from her house which she was horrible about cooking for herself or eating even if I cooked meals and put them in her frig or freezer – I wanted to be sure she had meals available. At the place she lives she gets a big noon meal, a breakfast bar with rolls, fruit, juice, coffee, cereal. She can also order off a menu for breakfast or supper or if she doesn’t care for the two daily offerings for the noon meal. She says she gets some fruit or cereal or a roll from the breakfast bar, I know she eats lunch (although she tells me she quit eating dessert shortly after she moved) and she is not good about eating supper. Yet she’ll cry because she weighs so little. Unbelievably, she has been living in independent living. You’d never believe it right now.

She would basically have to be forced to eat something in the hospital. She would say she wasn’t hungry and she’d just pick at stuff. She was on pain meds and very strong ones. She called me one night after I’d been gone for two hours crying and in a high level of distress saying she was in the doctor’s office and he wanted to do surgery and she wanted me to come get her and to call 911!!! She was insistent! I asked where the doctor was, thinking a) how did she ever get out of bed on her own, she can’t walk and b) wtf? She tells me the doctor stepped out so she could call. I told her I’d be down, but when I got off the phone my hubs talked me down off the ledge and had me call the nurses station. While I was on the phone with mom her cousin called me – she has the same name and mom had evidently called her first, confusing us in her cell phone. Her cousin has an elderly mother and knows exactly how this goes and lives about 5 minutes from the hospital so offered to go sit with her a bit and hopefully get her a bit centered. We all figured she’d woken from a bad dream and was disoriented and especially with the strong pain meds she’s on she probably was really messed up.

The nurse told me she was in her room, in bed, and the last time she checked she was eating her supper…

Mom’s cousin sent me a text. Mom was in bed, fine. Seemed to not really know her at first, but after awhile calmed more and they visited for a bit and she seemed okay.

I figured the next day mom wouldn’t remember a thing. She remembered! She said she was in “that other place” all night long and although she didn’t really know her cousin she visited with her (just a note – her cousin has been around my whole life and has lived close by and I used to babysit their kids).

I had been at the hospital all day long for two days and was thinking I could maybe take a day off, but after that incident I decided I would have to be there with her every single day – if for nothing else, to give her that sense of stability. She did still know who I was.

Man (Woman) Plans, God Laughs

I had every good intention of getting right with my blogging and, well, you can see how well that went! I got wrapped up in the sugar detox and did very well through January and most of February… right up until the point where my life all went to hell in a hand basket.

In the evening of February 17 the security guard at Mom’s retirement complex called me to tell me she’d fallen and been taken to the hospital. I rushed down there (I live about 40 miles away – luckily the hospital she goes to is about a mile from her apartment) and found her still in the ER. This was about 8:30. They had taken her for an x-ray and were concerned perhaps she’d broken her hip. As I got the story out of her, she was getting up to answer the door for the pharmacy delivery man and tripped on the carpet. Yup. Tripped. On. The. Carpet. Old people. Gotta love ’em.

After much pain medication and a lot of time, they did a CT-scan and found out she didn’t actually break her hip (thank goodness) but she did fracture her pelvis in two places and broke her tailbone. By the time they got done figuring out if she was going to have surgery or what was going to happen, it was just about midnight and they don’t do surgery on those kinds of breaks but they had to admit her to the hospital.

I got home about 3 a.m.

That was the beginning of the adventure.

Another Day, Another Blog

Old: So my dad passed away five years ago. This week (January 12). All this time and I’ve never shed a tear for him. I have his ashes in an urn on my bedroom dresser now. Next to another urn with the ashes of their dog. Mom wanted me to keep them when she moved out of her house. I think of him from time to time – especially around his favorite holiday, St. Patrick’s Day. His best friend passed many years ago, but his wife just passed suddenly a couple of weeks ago. She’d had a stroke and been in a nursing home for several months and Mom wasn’t even sure what her status was or how to get ahold of her. Suddenly, out of the blue, before Christmas, she called Mom. Told her that she was doing better and was going to be getting out of the nursing home and going to live with her eldest daughter. Mom was excited to go see her and I’d told her I would drive her the forty miles to visit her once she was home and settled. It never happened. That would be the last time Mom would speak with her. She had a heart attack and died on my birthday. (A week before Christmas). I felt so badly for Mom. She never did get to go see her one last time. Thank goodness she got to talk to her. It is odd how that works sometimes. I remember one of my grandmothers, my Mom’s mother, who had a progressive stroke. She was at home when it hit, and she never regained consciousness, just got worse and worse until she died. Strangely enough the week before she’d been to visit my family (a 45 mile trip), then she’d been down to Missouri State University at Maryville to visit my aunt. My uncle went to school there as well, but she hadn’t planned on seeing him this trip. As she was in the registrar’s office taking care of some business with my aunt’s tuition, in walked my uncle. He just happened to stop in to the office to check on something of his own. So she was able to see all of her family before she passed.

New: I don’t want to bore anyone with my day-to-day journey into sugarless eating, so I’ll leave that on a new blog I’ve got called “The Fresh Pages” which can be found at www.tfpages.blogspot.com Although I’m very pleased with my WP site, for the life of me I couldn’t remember how to link another blog to it so just went where it was simple and started it on Blogger. Maybe at some point I’ll move it over here, but for now we’ll just do it this way. So far so good!

April… March?

Uh, yeah… about that. I seem to have gotten distracted in my willingness to blog more. What can I say? Facebook ate my homework? Seems if I have a few extra minutes on the computer I’m lounging about on there, catching up on most of you (those of you who are on there). Then there are the games. Oh, my. I gave up my WoW (World of Warcraft) addiction – sort of – and in its place I now have these things called a “cafe”, “frontier”, “farm”, “pet”, etc… that take up endless hours that I feel could be better used. I even got away from them for awhile, but they lured me back in with guilt. Guilt because my friends were playing and if I don’t play I don’t help them… and if I help them, then they help me. You get the idea.

The WoW thing? Yeah… I gave it up. I say “sort of” because I’m really missing it. Most of the people I met there I see pretty routinely on FB, at least the ones I knew the best. I do miss the whole graphics of it and the plotting and the planning and the “if I’m having a bad day I can shoot a bunch of alien bad guys and feel better” aspect. I miss having that in common with my kids, most of whom played at one time or another so it was a mutual interest. Now the boys are into some other game and when I hear them talking about the game it brings back the feeling I had having that with them.

Just for a quick update. The back is 100% better. I am now pain free! It is wonderful. I can drive, walk, sit, even clean the house… pain free! The last time I had this surgery, I ended up with months of physical therapy because of something called ‘frozen shoulder’. It was caused partially by my diabetes, and because before the surgery when I was in pain I babied my arms and shoulders and didn’t keep the range of motion in them (because it hurt). This time I just toughed out the pain and hoped it would pay off by not having that issue after surgery, and I was right. Given a few days for the actual surgery recovery, the arms went back to feeling great. I still had all my range of motion and didn’t have the stiffness and pain I’d had previously. The doctor even let me start walking, slowly, a couple of weeks after surgery. Mid-March I had my final checkup and x-ray and all looked well. I now have a neck that is fused from the C4 vertebrae to the T1, in three sections of surgery. My surgeon pointed out that the top one, C4-C5 that he did was nice and straight and has a titanium plate in place. The last surgery, which he also did, was fusing C6-T1. Also with a titanium plate and nice and straight. The one in-between, C5-C6 was my first surgery done by another surgeon, and was fused with cadaver bone. It isn’t quite as straight. He laughed and said he’d love to go in and fix it, but it is hard to tell someone you want to go in and break their neck, just to make something more asthetically pleasing on the inside!

So, March flew by and I didn’t even realize I’d not blogged. The end of March and April so far have been busy. With some gumption, I may actually blog about that… uh… soon?


Tomorrow is my surgery. I’m looking forward to it as I hope it is going to take care of the pain I’ve been having for quite some time. I guess my first real hurdle was getting the letter from the insurance company and having them go through all this almost-legal-speak to tell me, finally, near the very end of the letter, that they’d approved my procedure. Well… terrific! I was stunned at first reading it thinking they were writing to tell me that I wasn’t going to be approved, in which case I was prepared to be totally miserable. No way could we afford this on our own. It makes me very grateful I have been able to afford insurance – even though it is one of our major expenses, due to being self-employed.

For some reason I’ve just been feeling this urge to communicate. To write down thought and maybe make amends… I’m not drinking, but it in in the “drunk-dialing” variety of urges that is spurring me on. Do it and damn the consequences. At least until I read it later.

Some people probably get tired of hearing me say it, but I love my husband…so much. I know he worries and I’ve contributed to his worry with some of my irresponsibilitys with money and recklessness with which I’ve done some things in my life. I hope he can forgive me and knows that my pledge to do better is heartfelt.

When I met him I thought he was the most gorgeous guy. I mean, tall, dark and wonderful… my “dream guy” come to life. I couldn’t stop staring! Through the years that opinion has changed. Now now only is he beautiful to me on the outside, but I know what a warm, generous and loving man he is on the inside. I have truly been blessed to have this man in my life for over 30 years. Best thing of all? He loves me too! He leaves me without a shred of a doubt as to the depth and breadth of this love – every day. Who could ask for more?

…and what can I say about my kids? After upsetting my eldest by blogging about her I promised I would never do it again, but I just have to say that I love her as much as a mother can. She’s the first, the one who when I didn’t have a clue what I was doing had to endure a young mother’s ignorance. A premie, she was so close to not even being with me that I truly do treasure every day she is on this earth. I am so proud of the obstacles she has had to endure and the progress she is making to better her life. I don’t always say it right, but I’m working on that.

My eldest son. He can be tough but he has this soft gooey middle. Sometimes it is a toss-up who is the biggest softie of all the kids. I’ve seen him grow from innocence to rebelliousness to a man who any mother could be proud to call son. Although each of my children are independent souls, his was independent much earlier – flying out of the nest and forcing himself to make the best of it. It is to his character that he has friends – good friends – that he has had his whole life long, and now a loving wife who treasures him as much as we do.

Younger daughter. Although Hubs likes to refer to her as “Susan-junior” or “mini-me”, I prefer to refer to her as “Susan 2.0”. She is the new, improved version. The better ‘me’. Yes, and although she has a lot of traits similar to mine, she is still very much her own woman. She is beautiful and fiesty and takes no shit… but, as in the case of her siblings, she has a soft core, maybe softer than all the rest. One she protects fiercely and who takes things very hard when the world, or other people, do not live up to her expectations. It is hard to get in, but so worth it if you do.

Last, but far from least, is younger son. No longer a boy, but a man as well. Tall and broad shouldered and soft-hearted as they come. I see a lot of his father in him and that is something to be very proud of. He, too, shares his life with his loving wife and critters and he would do anything for any member of his family… siblings and parents included. I hope as the years go on he learns to love this farm life and not become jaded or hard from it. It has certainly changed my life… and brought me all the beautiful blessings that are my family, and yes, my critters too.

Oh, wow… this has turned rather sappy, hasn’t it? That wasn’t my intent. I know you are told to tell your loved ones that you love them every day. I try, as often as I can. I guess I’m just touching all my bases.

Oh… and all of you, my blog friends, have a special place in my heart as well. Some of you have become very good friends. We’ve never met in the “real” world, but I haven’t given up hope that may happen someday!

God Bless… see you on the other side of tomorrow.

Where Has This Year Gone?

I am stunned when I look at my blog and realize I have barely written here at all … and not since September?!?!?! That’s unheard of! I used to write daily! I can’t say it is because I’m over on Facebook, updating every day, because I’m not. I don’t know if it is because I don’t feel my life is interesting enough (like it was before?) or if I am just being lazy. Part of me regrets the lack of posting as it is a time capsule of sorts, letting us look back at where we were and what was going on at various points in our life. I am not one to make New Year’s Resolutions, but perhaps I should make a “pre-NR-resolution” that I really, really should post more often. Once more, for myself if nothing else.

A quick (or not-so-quick) update. The pain clinic didn’t help. They gave me an epideral which was to take effect within 3-14 days. It only served to spike my blood sugar to the moon, but did nothing for the pain. After the full two weeks went by I had another appointment which my Hubs went with and proceeded to piss of the pain clinic doc by telling him in his opinion surgery was the only option. I was okay with that, because we had a friend with lower back pain who had gone to the same doctor and he had put our friend through a series of six of those shots and none of them worked. He ended up having surgery and is doing better. At any rate, I wasn’t up for several more shots that hurt like a sumbitch and only messed up my blood sugar without any relief.

We were given referral to the neurosurgeon – the same one who did my last surgery. I always find it interesting how three different doctors can look at one set of MRI’s and see three different things. One doc said he could see some compression up in the C3 area (which, according to my research, would effect my eyes, face and head area – not my shoulder, arm and hand). The pain clinic doc kind of thought maybe there was a nerve being rubbed down around the base of my neck, but wasn’t sure. Finally, the surgeon pointed to another disc being herniated around C7-T1 and the next lower one, which… gee… would be effecting my shoulder, arm and hand! *gasp*

Seeing as I am in a job that is the busiest in the fall and early winter, and also seeing as I am the only person in my company who does what I do, I couldn’t take time off to be operated on. I was given pain pills and some pills to help with nerves (it is a brand name, but if I put it here I’ll get spam to the moon)… and I take them faithfully, although I haven’t been able to tell a whole lot of difference with or without them with the exception of a bit of dizziness when I first started them and if I am off of them, say, first thing in the morning, they do seem to take the ‘edge’ off a bit. He’d also given me some steroid to take, but once again nothing happened but a huge spike in blood sugars, so I stopped that one.

I am now scheduled for surgery January 19. I am counting the days. Seriously. Just last night I was wide awake at 1 a.m. with pain and got up and read for a couple of hours until the medication kicked in. I am so keeping my fingers and toes crossed this works. My past two surgeries (also herniated discs) have been relatively successful. The first was amazingly so… a day and night difference from before surgery and after. I mean, RIGHT after. The second one didn’t have as dramatic an outcome because I didn’t realize that I had been “babying” my arms and shoulders to the point that I wasn’t really moving them much and after surgery I still had quite a bit of pain and stiffness in my shoulders – what they call “frozen shoulder”. It is common in diabetics, something I didn’t know, and as a result I have been faithfully making an effort this time to keep my range of motion in my arms as much as I can so that won’t be an issue after surgery. Last time it ended me up in physical therapy for months before it finally worked loose enough to be considered “cured”.

As far as the rest of my life? Things are going well. Harvest wasn’t quite what we’d hoped. It was a beautiful healthy crop – amazingly so – up until July 17 when a wind-storm blew half the corn over and kicked our yields in the ass. That, and a huge amount of rain that came late in the season. It just took the wind right out of our sails. As farmers, though, we just cross our fingers, say a prayer, and do it all over again next year.

The kids are doing well.

Eldest son and his wife are looking to add to their family – I’m expecting a new grand-critter (puppy) the end of this week. They are very excited. I’ve seen pictures and the pup is adorable and I predict will be spoiled silly.

Younger daughter got a new job in August. In her degree field. She is treated well and can’t get used to having a “real” job – with paid vacation, weekends off, etc… coming off of many years of retail sales, she barely knows how to act! It is fairly close by and she is continuing to live with us while she gets her shit together. It has worked out well having her here as she has been a great help with my back. She even helped my hijack my work computer and brought it home and helped me set up my home office to be a work office as well. I’ve not been capable of sitting in a desk chair, so have a recliner set up as a ‘command’ center surrounded by computers, printers, etc. I’m liking this arrangement so well that I’ve made a plea to make it a permanent situation, but the verdict is still out on that. Will wait to see what transpires.

Younger son had a very successful race season, but is thinking of putting the racing aside this next year. He (and we) can’t really afford to foot the bill for this whole thing – it is expensive enough just to go watch all the races – but we’re hoping maybe some sponsors will throw some real money into the mix if they hear he is going to sit it out due to finances. In tough times, something has to go and as much as we hate to see him have to stop racing, he’s thinking even if he doesn’t get the sponsorship that it may just be a one-year break and if we have a decent crop next year… at a decent price… maybe he could get back into it. Time will tell.

So… that’s about it. I’ve really not kept up with all of you, unless you are on Facebook and I get to catch snippits of what is going on in your life. I will try to do some catching up in my reading… and hopefully, as I say, be a bit more consistant in my writing. Sorry to drag this out so long, but I’ve had a bit to catch up on. See you soon!

Counting Down…

Pain clinic appointment is on Wednesday afternoon. I’m counting down. First it was days, now it is hours. About ten years ago I had an experience with the Pain Clinic. I’d been having some pain again and was sent there. After taking an MRI the doctor told me they could see no obvious sources of my pain. I was dejected, thinking that was the end of it and I’d be sent home to deal with it as best as I could. I made the comment “I guess this pain is all in my head”. The doctor replied, “We don’t care if we can’t see anything, if you are having pain we will do our best to try and relieve it.”

They then proceeded to give me a shot of, although I’m not sure of the name, I figure was a steroid. He told me it wouldn’t hurt right away because of the anesthesia they apply at the time of the shot, but that the next day it would hurt as that anesthesia wore off… and, in a couple of days I would either have relief or no relief. When I asked how long the relief might last he told me it varied in everyone. Some people have it last for a day, some for a lifetime. Everyone is different.

It worked exactly like he said. As far as relief? It lasted for at least five years… so that’s not so bad! Now, if I can just get through the fall that will be a great help. Anything beyond that?