Saturday, March 10, 2012

My kids were trying to be thoughtful.

The extra activity and pain from the MRI last night has made today miserable. Ironically, the MRI itself felt great - the scan caused a sensation of warmth to flow in the injured area, and it was frankly the most comfortable I have been since I was injured. That said, the process of getting undressed, then arranging myself on the MRI table, then getting off and re-dressed, was extremely painful and unpleasant.

Especially when the oh-so-helpful aide decided the best way to get me off the MRI table was to say "Ally-up!" in a cheerful voice and pull me into a straight sitting position by my arms. I think my scream was loud enough to wake the dead.

Since that little incident, I've been in more pain, and the pain pills just weren't cutting it. Around 11am, I decided to lay down for a couple hours. I took my pills first before laying down, with the thought that they would have fully kicked in by 1pm, and I could get up and be semi-productive while the kids read during quiet time.

My kids had other ideas. Really, they were trying to be thoughtful, I do understand that. They jointly decided to make their own lunch and let me sleep in. For seven and a half hours.

Did I mention the pain pills only last for five to six hours?

So by the time I finally woke up, my pain meds had already been worn off for about two hours, and I HURT. I barely managed to get up and hobble to the bathroom (with tears pouring down my face the entire time), and somehow made it to the computer chair before my back completely seized out.

I sat there for over an hour, sobbing and waiting for the pain meds to kick in. Nothing doing. I was still stuck in the same spot, unable to move more than an inch or two without crying out in pain. At this point my kids were freaking out because they feel responsible for me being in pain, and I'm trying to reassure them and muffle my cries because it's making them feel bad, and it's just a huge clusterf*ck.

Finally after ninety minutes of this, I call the pharmacy (thank goodness for 24 hour pharmacies), and explain the situation. I tell her what I've taken so far, and what I have on hand, and ask if there is anything I can take in addition to my pain pills to allow me to function at least partially normally.

She told me to take another Hydrocodone. I worried out loud that I was worried about possible addiction (I mean, it's a narcotic, after all!), but she pointed out that I haven't been taking as much as I could be anyway, so it should still be safe to do. So I took another pill, both reluctantly and hopefully. And you know what? It worked. I can move again. I haven't tried to get out of my chair yet (I'm waiting for a full hour to go by before I try), but I can lean forward and backward and to each side, and I can shift in the chair.

I HATE THIS. I hate being in pain. I'm kicking myself (metaphorically speaking) for not losing weight earlier in my life. This pain would be a lot less if I weighed less. I remember reading a story a year or so ago of a woman who had lost weight, and then a couple months after reaching her goal, she was in a horrible car accident. She ended up wedged in the twisted metal wreak of her vehicle, in a small area that was claustrophobic tiny.

Her doctor later looked at the pictures and told her "If you had been in that accident when you were heavier, you would have died."

So now I have to face the reality - if I had lost the weight before this, would I even be injured? Would my injury be as severe? Is it too late for me? Am I permanently disabled? Is it too late to lose weight? If not, how can I lose weight when half my body is incapacitated?

More than the pain, the uncertainty is killing me.

If you are out there and trying to lose weight, quit procrastinating. Start NOW. You never know what the future might bring. You could hurt your back tomorrow. You could be in a car accident. You could fall and not be able to get up. Don't give up. Don't be complacent.

I'm not giving up. I'm going to continue working on losing weight. Sure, walking is no longer an option until I figure out what exactly is wrong, and what to do to fix it. It might be surgery. It might me more pain meds. I don't know. I might have to be in a wheelchair for a while.

I actually look forward to being in a wheelchair. I can still go for "walks", just using my arms rather than my legs. My shoulders rather than my hips. I'm not giving up.

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