Ahhhhh. Last day of my week off. Return to work tomorrow. What a nice, relaxing vacation, right? No. No...my "vacation" from work last week began on Saturday August 6 when my parents had to pile me into their car, writhing in pain as I lay across the back seat, unable to find a spot that didn't send bolts of molten hot lava down my leg. They got me to St. Joseph's emergency room within 15 minutes (which tells you a lot about West-Med as I literally live across the street from there) and I continued to writhe, not caring who the hell heard me crying out to God to please stop the pain and let me pass out (yes I was that yelling freak down the hall in the ER), panting dry-mouthed in between shots of fire. They FINALLY shot me up with Dilaudid (THANK YOU GOD THANK YOU GOD THANK YOU GOD) and I was able to breathe. And the staff was able to take out their earplugs and resume conversations about the idiot patients who come through with self-induced injuries like paint rollers up their asses. (I used to work at Western Medical Center in Admitting/ER...I saw a photocopy of the xray...it really happened. And worse. People are SO weird).
I have one word for you:
Sciatica. -ca -ca -ca -caaaaaaa (echo effect). Duh duh duhhhhhhhh. (dramatic bad-omen-laden music effect).
Ok. MORE than one word for you.
I have had two children, both via c-section, the first being an emergency after 2 days of labor pain replete with the ever-fun back labor pains. Both are remembered with fondness and yearning in comparison to the pain I felt on the gurney in that room in the emergency room of St. Joe's.
I have had problems with my back over the last year. It started in May 2010 when I broke my left little toe and ended up in an orthopaedic walking boot. Shortly thereafter I began a series of business trips from California to Quebec (read: LOTS of sitting in airports, running from immigration to customs to security to the next flight AND crunched sardine-like in 6-across plane seats). Sure enough low back pain set in quickly. Up until a couple months ago, the "oh shit my back just went out AGAIN" pretzlization (haha new word!!!!) I endured was pretty quickly rectified by chiropractic and massage therapy. Until I sprained (badly) my left ankle.
I put the ortho boot back on, like an uneducated idiot. (Read: ortho boots are notorious for causing bad low-back pain. Thank you Ms. Physical Therapist, a little too little too late. Fanx.)
After that I survived a month of crippling back pain that my chiropractor couldn't even touch. Intense massage therapy sessions didn't work. Finally I went to an orthopaedic specialist. He put me in physical therapy for a month which did Jack-Diddly ("I hate buses!") and KABLAM! Finally, last Saturday it seems my sciatic nerve area place thingy decided to give me the double-bird.
Did I mention how painful that crap was?? There are a lot of people I don't like and a lot of people I have had fantasies about doing really messed up things to. I wouldn't wish this on any of them. Oh. Wait. Yeah. Oh, yeah, I DEFINITELY wish this shit on the people at the top of Bank of America's corporate ladder. I can envision an entire top floor of writhing executives. I might even kick them in the stomach as I walked through taking camera-phone shots for Facebook. Other than them, I wouldn't have this on any one.
So, I was sent home with a woozy head and little pain, with orders to call my doctor in the morning. Gotta love not being admitted to the hospital when you're NOT dying but feel like you are.
And so...saw ortho the following Monday, was told 5 days bed-rest and did just that...well, until Thursday, when the pain finally subsided enough that I could go without any pain meds. Then I went home and saw how pitiful my house looked and proceeded to attempt to make things right which only just landed me back on crutches.
Oh yeah...the crutches. That's the best story of all. So...my left foot is partially numb. Yeah. I walk like a duck now. And I know how sexy ducks are. I am so happy about this. This and the closet full of awesome stilettos, wedges, and pumps that are lonely and missing me as much as I miss wearing them. I am not sure if it's been mentioned in this blog before, but my nickname at work is Shoe Tart. Ok, next blog is a pictorial homage to all the shoes I've loved before (I did a video homage last year after the left toe break, but I don't know if I can post a video here. I'll see...) Yeah, so anyway, I have limited flexion in my left ankle, half my foot is numb and up until Friday I couldn't walk without crutches. I'm going without them now, but I'm serious, it's funny walking and then realizing my left foot is flopping and dragging. Whatever....
Ok, ok, ok. Cuz I know you care...I had an MRI today (I found having conversations with God in that little coffin filled with mini-jackhammers quite pleasant), then have a follow-up appt Wednesday.
So. Yeah. Shoe Tart pics. That's gonna come sometime later in the week...maybe next weekend. There's a lot of production to go into this....and I know all 8 of you sweet followers are on pins and needles waiting for this. Right? Right.
Shoe Tart OUT. But not my back. Ha ha! (thumbs up with overly-emoted happy face effect here).
Wait. I just realized I'm taking my girls to see the Smurf movie tonight. Ooooohhhhhhhh, where's my pain meds? My paint roller????? *sigh*