A few months ago I casually mentioned to a friend that I wanted to express on my blog the troubles, both physical and emotional, that I've been having since my spinal surgery in May 2012. My friend vehemently opposed such an idea, telling me that I would come across as a "whiner" and would just annoy people with my "looking for sympathy" post and that I should just "deal with" whatever I was going through and leave the "sob story" for other bloggers. So, I didn't post and I carried on with my life. But as of late, I'm getting sick and tired of being, well, sick and tired, and I'm at the point now where I just want to say a big ol' "fuck you" to everyone and everything. I'm not here to give a sob story or whine about how bad my life is, but I am here to vent and get my shit out in the open and maybe, just maybe, shed light and understanding as to why I am the way I am lately and feel the way I feel.
First off, I'm pretty much done with the medical community and doctors in general. They don't give a shit about their patients. Especially ones who are overweight like myself and who are begging and pleading for some help. Fuck you. Fuck you. And fuck you. Just because I'm fat doesn't mean you can dismiss all of my problems to the "she's fat" category and tell me to diet and exercise. Guess what? I'm on a fucking 1200 calorie a day diet already and I'm pushing through excruciating pain to get to the gym at least three times a week. So don't tell me about "diet and exercise". What the fuck do you want me to do? Eat air and damage my spine even more just so I can be your idea of "healthy"? Fuck you. Fuck you. And Fuck you too.
But I am getting ahead of myself.
Before I had my back surgery I went to countless doctors, explaining to them that I had horrible pain shooting down my left leg and that I knew something was wrong. All of them. ALL OF THEM said "You're fat. You have sciatica. Lose weight." Look, I know my body (all of it) and I knew that we weren't dealing with sciatica. I begged for MRIs and scans, telling these doctors that this was much more than sciatica and that I was in agony and all they saw was a fat girl complaining about her back. No one listened to me. And finally MONTHS after I begged to be heard and scanned, I had to be taken to the hospital in an ambulance, pumped full of morphine, and told casually by a doctor (13 hours after I had been admitted) that I "needed surgery yesterday". Gee? You FUCKING THINK SO?!?!?!
And now, 14 months after my spinal surgery, I am back to square one. But, as though the Universe were playing a cruel joke, the pains are now down my right leg and my back hurts so bad that there are days where walking the few steps to the kitchen seems like the Exodus out of Egypt. And the carousel of doctors has begun again. I tell them my pain, they see a fat girl complaining about her back. This last doctor put me over the edge today. After 10 days of waiting for lab results from blood tests, her assistant calls me to tell me that the doctor, after reviewing my results, recommends "diet and exercise". REALLY? REA-FUCKING-LLY???? I spent an hour in her office explaining to her my diet, showing her my food journal, explaining to her that I was stuck in a vicious cycle of being overweight and in pain which prevented me from exercising as fully I wanted which was because I was overweight and in pain which prevented me from exercising as fully as I wanted because I was overweight and in pain which prevented me from exercising as fully as I wanted because I was overweight........
But no. Apparently, she didn't listen to me either. Apparently, NOTHING I fucking said registered other than "she's fat and whining about her back".
Let me tell you something, unlike most of the fat asses that I see stuffing their faces with whatever the fuck they want and sitting on their couches all day doing jack shit, I don't do that. I don't want to do that. I want to go bike riding. I want to go swimming. I want to go hiking up a goddamn mountain with my kids and then have a picnic and play frisbie. I care that I am stuck hobbling through the grocery store using the cart as a walker. I fucking care that ten minutes on a bike renders me IMMOBILE for the rest of the day. I care about the foods that I put in my system and you had better believe that I care that I am not providing the best possible parenting to my children that they deserve. I can't pick my child up when he cries. I can't chaperone a field trip to the botanical gardens because there's too much walking. I can't go for late night walks on the beach with my boys. I can't fucking do anything without being in excruciating pain. And with pain comes anger and I take it out on my kids.
I am a horrible mom right now. And I know it.
I am so fucking sick and tired of this bullshit. And I don't care who knows about it anymore. Here's my sad story blog. Deal with it. I am unhappy and miserable and in constant pain. You want me to point to the number on the chart where my pain level is at? It's off it. My kids are suffering, my husband is suffering (I can't ride a bike, you think SEX is easier?), and I'm fed up.
And while we are at it, let me comment on those annoyingly self serving "fitness" memes that everyone seems to be posting on Facebook as of late. You know, the ones who are like "just get in the gym" or "being sexy is just too easy", or "no excuses for being fit". A giant fuck you to you too. And a giant fuck you to the comments on those memes about "fat people just need to stop eating" or "fat people need to get off the couch" or even those lovely ones about how "fat acceptance is just ugly people trying to make themselves feel better". Screw you. You have no idea why some of us are suffering inside these giant bodies. Screw you if you think I wouldn't kill to be able to go back to my Yoga class and ride my bike again. Screw you for not having to deal with horrible pain on a daily basis. Screw you for not needing your child to help you put your shoes on because you can't bend over to do it yourself.
I'm tired of doing what I am supposed to do and getting no help and no results. After my surgery I blew up from being so inactive that I put on a ton of weight. I've managed to get 50 pounds of that weight off and now I've been hindered with the return of pain and I've virtually come to a standstill. I went to the aforementioned doctor to seek guidance, help, and maybe some encouragement. "How can you help me, doctor, get through this plateau I've reached?" "What can I do to stop this pain?" "Can you recommend some physical therapy?" "Can I please have an MRI?" "Help Me."
You're fat. Diet and Exercise. Thank you, drive through.
Showing posts with label surgery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label surgery. Show all posts
Monday, July 29, 2013
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Shama-lama-lama-laminectomy!
As you know, I was in the hospital from May 9th until May 13th. What you might not know is how or why I ended up there. So here goes:
For a while now ( a few months) I had been suffering from lower back pain radiating into my left leg. I was still able to walk and function in my duties as "mommy" so I pretty much paid no mind to it, other than taking the occasional Aleve or Ibuprofen tablet to ease the discomfort. I was still very active in my Yoga and Pilates classes and really just chalked it up to "I need to lose more weight" and "I'm officially old because this is sciatica".
After a few weeks, the pain wasn't getting any better and it certainly was getting worse. Now, my left leg would spasm randomly sending shooting pains all the way up my body and my spine making it unbearable to put any pressure on it for a few minutes. My balance at Yoga was completely off when dependent on my left side, sitting cross legged was virtually impossible, and sitting at all for any length of time would eventually start to hurt terribly, thus making it impossible for me to drive.
At the end of March, I was lying on the couch and in trying to get up, my left leg gave out and I cried out in pain for Randy to help me. I couldn't move. My back and my leg were on fire and it was horrible. My mom came and took me to the Emergency Room where I was given an I/V and Delaudin (?) which (didn't know at the time) I am allergic to and I proceeded to hallucinate and get sick all over the place. And it did nothing to alleviate my pain or the spasms. After hours of twilight sleep in an uncomfortable gurney, my mom putting cold cloths on my head, the doctor came, asked me questions, told me I had sciatica, prescribed pain meds and muscle relaxants, told me to take it easy, and sent me on my way.
Take it easy? I'm a mom. I don't take it easy.
I followed the regiment I was given, took a pain med as needed as well as the muscle relaxant and decided that this was going to be a pain I was going to have to live with. There were good days and bad and I was just going to have to deal. I modified my poses at Yoga, took it slower in Pilates, and went on with my life.
One morning in late April, as I was hoisting Dorian, my 25 pound 22 month old into the car so we could take Dante to school, I felt "something" click in my back and I saw stars. I saw moons, planets, nebulae, fuck it I saw the whole Universe in the pain and I knew something was wrong. I managed to take Dante to school then hightailed it to my mom's house where it was decided that we'd make an appointment with a doctor at her primary care office to see me.
This doctor was very brusk and formal. Told me that I should expect to have lower back pain and sciatica because of my weight (fuck you very much) and that he would prescribe me pain medication and Valium this time and recommend I see a nutritionist. And he sent me on my way.
A couple of days later, the same thing again, my leg went into spasms and my back wouldn't move and I was taken to the E/R where again, I was told I had sciatica, given pain meds, and sent home. This doctor, though, recommended I go get an MRI. When asked why he couldn't just send me up to get one, he said "We don't do MRIs at the E/R, you'd have to be admitted". Gee thanks Doc.
So that night, my mom took me to get an MRI at the Outpatient center nearby. By this time, my leg and back pain were so intense that I was no longer able to function. Lying on my side was the only way to alleviate the pain. I could walk as far to the bathroom but even sitting down to "use" the toilet was excruciatingly painful. When I heard that I would have to lie FLAT and STILL for this MRI I didn't know if I could do it. I was shoved into the MRI machine and I instantly knew that I was in trouble. The pain was so incredible that I was literally SCREAMING for them to get me out. I lasted as long as I could but unfortunately, the tech was unable to get a scan. She recommended I call an ambulance and be taken to the hospital. Then, and only then, would they "admit" me to get an MRI.
I had had enough by then and just wanted to go home. After a long night, my mom came over in the morning, called an ambulance and I was taken by three very handsome EMTs BACK TO THE HOSPITAL. This was at 10:30am May 9th. I was fed morphine through an I/V all day but nothing was helping. At 10:30 PM, the doctor came in, told me that if he gave me any more morphine, I would die, and that I was going to have to do the MRI awake and just do my best. So I was wheeled up to the hospital MRI. Randy, having switched places with my mom after work, was at my side as I cried from the pain, assured me that I could do it and to be strong. The MRI guys were kind and sensitive to my pain. I explained to them how difficult it was for me to be on my back and they said they would do it as fast as they could. I went into the machine.
I must have blacked out from the pain because I was awakened by the tech in my earphones telling me to stop moving. I explained to him that I wasn't moving. Turns out that my body, from the extreme pain, was spasming on its own. I was pulled out and allowed to lie on my side and cry for a little bit. The tech told me that he had enough for a flat view but desperately needed the cross section view so I had to go back in. I knew it was going to be excruciating but I also knew that if I didn't get this MRI done, there was no way I was going to get better. So I went back in.
It turns out, that I was gone for over an hour. When the MRI was finished, I was so out of it from both pain and medication that I think I just went to sleep. By now, it must have been 11:30pm or so. I vaguely remember a doctor coming into my room in the E/R to tell me I was going to be admitted, but after that it gets blurry. At 3am I woke up because I was rolling into the hospital going to my room on the 7th floor, Neurosurgery. I was given more pain meds.....and I was out.
The next morning, Thursday May 10th, I was informed that I had herniated discs and that the "jelly" from my spine had burst through and was pressing on my back and nerves causing me this excruciating pain. By this point, I was no longer able to walk at all and needed help going to the bathroom. Nothing is more humbling than having a nurse younger than you wipe you. Anyhow, I was told that surgery was necessary and that I'd be going under the knife tomorrow, May 11th.
So, I did. I had a procedure known as a Laminectomy., plus my herniated discs were "shaved" down.(My incision is much lower that this diagram. I believe my discs were 4 and 5).
I came home from the hospital on Mother's Day and have been recovering ever since. I can walk again, but only short distances because I get very tired and my back starts to hurt. I have a snazzy cane which makes me look pimp, and I cannot BLT (bend, lift, or turn). I had my two week follow-up yesterday and I have been granted permission to drive short distances, but still am not allowed to swim until my incision is fully healed. I am starting physical therapy 3 times a week for a month on June 5th and will follow up again after 6 weeks. I still have lots of pain in my back and my doctor said that that is normal during the healing process, but if after our next followup, it is still present, I'm going to have to get X-rays done to see what's going on.
So there you have it. My wonderful story about enduring horrible and copious amounts of pain. Thanks to those of you who helped me with the kids, with my emotional state, and with just being there. I couldn't have done it without you.
My birthday is June 29th. I hope to be dancing by then.
For a while now ( a few months) I had been suffering from lower back pain radiating into my left leg. I was still able to walk and function in my duties as "mommy" so I pretty much paid no mind to it, other than taking the occasional Aleve or Ibuprofen tablet to ease the discomfort. I was still very active in my Yoga and Pilates classes and really just chalked it up to "I need to lose more weight" and "I'm officially old because this is sciatica".
After a few weeks, the pain wasn't getting any better and it certainly was getting worse. Now, my left leg would spasm randomly sending shooting pains all the way up my body and my spine making it unbearable to put any pressure on it for a few minutes. My balance at Yoga was completely off when dependent on my left side, sitting cross legged was virtually impossible, and sitting at all for any length of time would eventually start to hurt terribly, thus making it impossible for me to drive.
At the end of March, I was lying on the couch and in trying to get up, my left leg gave out and I cried out in pain for Randy to help me. I couldn't move. My back and my leg were on fire and it was horrible. My mom came and took me to the Emergency Room where I was given an I/V and Delaudin (?) which (didn't know at the time) I am allergic to and I proceeded to hallucinate and get sick all over the place. And it did nothing to alleviate my pain or the spasms. After hours of twilight sleep in an uncomfortable gurney, my mom putting cold cloths on my head, the doctor came, asked me questions, told me I had sciatica, prescribed pain meds and muscle relaxants, told me to take it easy, and sent me on my way.
Take it easy? I'm a mom. I don't take it easy.
I followed the regiment I was given, took a pain med as needed as well as the muscle relaxant and decided that this was going to be a pain I was going to have to live with. There were good days and bad and I was just going to have to deal. I modified my poses at Yoga, took it slower in Pilates, and went on with my life.
One morning in late April, as I was hoisting Dorian, my 25 pound 22 month old into the car so we could take Dante to school, I felt "something" click in my back and I saw stars. I saw moons, planets, nebulae, fuck it I saw the whole Universe in the pain and I knew something was wrong. I managed to take Dante to school then hightailed it to my mom's house where it was decided that we'd make an appointment with a doctor at her primary care office to see me.
This doctor was very brusk and formal. Told me that I should expect to have lower back pain and sciatica because of my weight (fuck you very much) and that he would prescribe me pain medication and Valium this time and recommend I see a nutritionist. And he sent me on my way.
A couple of days later, the same thing again, my leg went into spasms and my back wouldn't move and I was taken to the E/R where again, I was told I had sciatica, given pain meds, and sent home. This doctor, though, recommended I go get an MRI. When asked why he couldn't just send me up to get one, he said "We don't do MRIs at the E/R, you'd have to be admitted". Gee thanks Doc.
So that night, my mom took me to get an MRI at the Outpatient center nearby. By this time, my leg and back pain were so intense that I was no longer able to function. Lying on my side was the only way to alleviate the pain. I could walk as far to the bathroom but even sitting down to "use" the toilet was excruciatingly painful. When I heard that I would have to lie FLAT and STILL for this MRI I didn't know if I could do it. I was shoved into the MRI machine and I instantly knew that I was in trouble. The pain was so incredible that I was literally SCREAMING for them to get me out. I lasted as long as I could but unfortunately, the tech was unable to get a scan. She recommended I call an ambulance and be taken to the hospital. Then, and only then, would they "admit" me to get an MRI.
I had had enough by then and just wanted to go home. After a long night, my mom came over in the morning, called an ambulance and I was taken by three very handsome EMTs BACK TO THE HOSPITAL. This was at 10:30am May 9th. I was fed morphine through an I/V all day but nothing was helping. At 10:30 PM, the doctor came in, told me that if he gave me any more morphine, I would die, and that I was going to have to do the MRI awake and just do my best. So I was wheeled up to the hospital MRI. Randy, having switched places with my mom after work, was at my side as I cried from the pain, assured me that I could do it and to be strong. The MRI guys were kind and sensitive to my pain. I explained to them how difficult it was for me to be on my back and they said they would do it as fast as they could. I went into the machine.
I must have blacked out from the pain because I was awakened by the tech in my earphones telling me to stop moving. I explained to him that I wasn't moving. Turns out that my body, from the extreme pain, was spasming on its own. I was pulled out and allowed to lie on my side and cry for a little bit. The tech told me that he had enough for a flat view but desperately needed the cross section view so I had to go back in. I knew it was going to be excruciating but I also knew that if I didn't get this MRI done, there was no way I was going to get better. So I went back in.
It turns out, that I was gone for over an hour. When the MRI was finished, I was so out of it from both pain and medication that I think I just went to sleep. By now, it must have been 11:30pm or so. I vaguely remember a doctor coming into my room in the E/R to tell me I was going to be admitted, but after that it gets blurry. At 3am I woke up because I was rolling into the hospital going to my room on the 7th floor, Neurosurgery. I was given more pain meds.....and I was out.
The next morning, Thursday May 10th, I was informed that I had herniated discs and that the "jelly" from my spine had burst through and was pressing on my back and nerves causing me this excruciating pain. By this point, I was no longer able to walk at all and needed help going to the bathroom. Nothing is more humbling than having a nurse younger than you wipe you. Anyhow, I was told that surgery was necessary and that I'd be going under the knife tomorrow, May 11th.
So, I did. I had a procedure known as a Laminectomy., plus my herniated discs were "shaved" down.(My incision is much lower that this diagram. I believe my discs were 4 and 5).
I came home from the hospital on Mother's Day and have been recovering ever since. I can walk again, but only short distances because I get very tired and my back starts to hurt. I have a snazzy cane which makes me look pimp, and I cannot BLT (bend, lift, or turn). I had my two week follow-up yesterday and I have been granted permission to drive short distances, but still am not allowed to swim until my incision is fully healed. I am starting physical therapy 3 times a week for a month on June 5th and will follow up again after 6 weeks. I still have lots of pain in my back and my doctor said that that is normal during the healing process, but if after our next followup, it is still present, I'm going to have to get X-rays done to see what's going on.
So there you have it. My wonderful story about enduring horrible and copious amounts of pain. Thanks to those of you who helped me with the kids, with my emotional state, and with just being there. I couldn't have done it without you.
My birthday is June 29th. I hope to be dancing by then.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
