I want to stay home so badly today as the pain in my back is ungodly. I am SO sore from the doctor poking and prying in between my backbones yesterday. I stay in bed until noon and go to work. I try to take it easy, but I have so much to do before I leave on Wednesday morning for work. I feel fairly good towards evening and Melanie and I grab a bite at McCormick’s and call it an early night.
Sunday, March 02, 2003
I get out of bed and for 25 minutes, I feel good. It doesn’t last the pain is excruciating at this point and I can’t function vertically. I lie in bed and call Dr. Francis’ office for advice. She refers me to Mercy hospital for a blood patch, which includes an epidural and taking blood from my arm. My spine didn’t seal and the fluid is leaking into the area around the sac and causing extreme pain that will, on it’s own, take 3-5 days to heal. I am supposed to be headed to California on Wednesday for work and vacation. I decide to do the blood patch and suck it up. Anything is better than the pain I am in. I go to the appointment. The doctor greets me after I practically crawl to the room for the procedure. I came into the hospital bent over practically in the fetal position and waited, lying down, in the reception are for over an hour before someone came to greet me. He seems like a nice guy and I give him the benefit of the doubt immediately, mainly because I can’t see straight and am the most miserable I have ever been in my life. I lie down in the fetal position still dressed, shirt slid up and pants waist slid down on a gurney table. He cleans me wraps me in sterile papers, etc. and proceeds to start. He tries seven times to put in an epidural. He gives me about twelve shots of local anesthetic and stops and tells me that he is having some trouble with the epidural. He tells me that this is the 2nd hardest epidural he has done and that there is an unusually small space between my vertebrae to maneuver. I calmly think to myself that I need to stay calm. He is going to try again. He tries two more times and finally after an hour he succeeds. Nine tries and he finally put the line in. He then goes to draw blood. At this point the thought of a needle doesn’t bother me and I just plain don’t care. I just want to go home. He tries to draw blood. He stabs me six times in the arm and can’t get enough blood. It is hurting so bad because I am dehydrated and the needle is a larger one. He tells me he needs to go into my hand to try. I snap. I can’t physically and mentally take ANY more. I am mentally exhausted. I cover my head with a blanket and cry from exhaustion. Melanie knows that I have hit my limit and leaves the room to temporarily escape the tension in the room. Five stabs later in the hand and another three in the arm and I look like a pincushion with bruises from hell. Finally, he has enough blood and puts it through the epidural to seal my spinal sac. I wait in recovery for a half an hour. I say nothing to anyone. It’s finally time to go home and I get up. I can actually stand and the pain is mostly gone. I feel a little better and I thank him and drive home with Melanie. It feels good to not be in pain, but I know that I need to put myself in a healthier place. I am exhausted, tired, pissed, and mentally have checked out today. I am glad Melanie is around to ease the pain.
Saturday, March 01, 2003
I spend the day pretty much in bed. I agree to go to a benefit dinner tonight the Minneapolis Convention center this evening for Children’s Crisis Nursery. I feel awful, but go anyway. Half way through dinner, I need to leave. I can’t sit anymore and the pain in my head is making me gag. I almost puke twice, two separate occasions, in the bathroom and decide it’s finally enough. I leave and find that once I stand, my head is not so bad. I wait for my ride home and finally when I am home and in bed, the pain subsides.