First World Problems

I can't seem to catch a break here people.
I don't know who I pissed off in my former life, but it must've been something good. I certainly hope I had fun doing it. And really, if that's the case, shouldn't I get to remember it? Who do I talk to about this?
Anywho, I digress (surprise!). Since, I last posted, 4 days ago, my pain had still not returned. A whole week! Woot! Yeah, don't get too excited, there are some reasons for that. Like, I wasn't moving much at all in the last four days. That fatigue thing I mentioned? Turned out it was the beginning of a virus. I don't miss a beat, I tell ya. Just to keep it interesting LittleSpeak got in the act too. Sunday night both her and I started running fevers. Let me tell ya, big fun to feel like crap, but have to take care of a kid who feels just as bad, if not worse? That's a level of fun that few get to experience.
On Monday, she was running 102 (ear thermometer, so probably 103) and I couldn't get it below 100 until 2:00 in the afternoon. I would've been more worried about it, but since I was running a fever (100, I avg 96, so that's pretty high for me) I wasn't really coherent enough to realize how it should be upsetting me. All she wanted to do was lay on me, which, I mean how does a mom say no to that. So we laid on the couch. I had the stream of Nick Jr. going, but after a while she just wanted to sleep. We laid there & sweated. Want to sit on my couch now? My virus, (Oh no, we can't have the same thing, we need to have something different so we can pass them back and forth.) included a post nasal/sore throat thing. Little's virus included a stomach bug. She never did get sick enough to throw up, but I know she wished she would on more than one occasion.
Tuesday, she was improving. Her fever was coming & going, she actually felt like eating a little and was happy to commandeer the TV. In other words, she wouldn't sleep. I was, of course, not that improved. I think it was rude for her to get better faster, considering I needed to nap and mope some more. Kids are like that though. Last night, I was running a fever when I went to bed, it's like a hot flash, but contagious.
Wednesday, I actually got dressed! I walked BigSpeak to school and took Little to gymnastics (Damn strait I took her! I need to wear that kid out!) My Mother In Law (MIL) was showing up today for a long weekend. It's Big's birthday weekend, so she thought she'd come to see us. My husband however, seemed to forget his mother was coming to visit and left the house in much of a state. My MIL comes to stay often enough that I'm sure she's seen the house in worse shape, but I prefer not to have the chores waiting for her when she arrives. (She's not good at leaving things alone.) I quickly scrambled to at least get the sheets on her bed changed. Check! And then to get the dishes out of the sink, which required unloading the dishwasher. Don't worry, I didn't get that far. The sheet changing was apparently "over the top" as once I got downstairs I felt my back spasm and familiar pains started down my right leg. I wanted to cry. I'd gone a whole week, more or less, without a pain pill! Granted, I spent a good part of that week lying down sick, but lying down has not been indicative of less pain, so I really thought the shots were helping. To have it potentially undone on the first thing I did is very disheartening.

I took pain pills, and laid on the couch as much as I could to try an help get it under control. I'm not dying or anything, but I'm pretty sure I'm not "off the pain pills" as I'd hoped. I'm not 100% for sure and Big's birthday party extravaganza is this weekend. Twenty 7 year old girls, glitter makeovers, fashion/dance show extravaganza! God help us all. I was feeling better when I signed up for this, I need to remember to stop doing that.

Yeah, I have a bit of a pity party going on these days. It’s frustrating at best. Part of me feels guilty when I get like this. No one is dying, or losing a limb. I have resources & support to deal with this never ending problem. I don't get to feel sorry for myself, there are so many people who have it so much worse. Upon thinking about it, I realized I need to allow myself some of this frustration without the guilt. What I have is a first world problem. No I'm not losing my home or dying, but that doesn't mean I don't have a sucky situation. Just because I don’t have the worst issue of everyone doesn’t diminish the suckatude.
I'm hoping that allowing myself to wallow a little in my suckatude (I love this word and will be using it often now) perhaps it will get some perspective and not last so long.

And maybe I'll catch a break one of these days.

Not Just Ruining Professional Baseball Careers

Had my last (3rd) epidural shot on Wednesday. That was 3 days ago. Honestly, I don't really seem to have any back pain now. The nerve pain is gone. Yup, you read that correctly. But before you start planning the party, you should know a few things.

1. I've been down this road before. From what I remember, I actually had a faster response to these shots last time, but they didn't last. In other words, I felt better, but I didn't heal. I'm reserving judgment this time.
   
2. I'm feeling better, and have more energy, but I'm tired. Like fatigued tired. My guess is that there hasn't been a ramp up to this new energy level. I have energy because it was all be routed to deal with pain. The pain was all the eff'ing time, so that's a lot of energy being put toward something. That does NOT mean I have energy to go run laps, it just means I don't have to sit down after each & every thing I do.
   
3. I have energy, but not strength. I want to do things, but I need to remember not to do them just yet. To pace myself. I should NOT be doing things that involve lots of bending over and/or lifting. Even though I feel like it's "probably fine." It actually probably isn't fine. Emptying the bottom of the dishwasher is one of the things I should avoid. Picking up laundry baskets also fall under this guise. Sounds like things that should be easy to avoid, but you might be surprised at how much they come up. I have lots of practice with avoiding these activities. This new found energy finds me awake staring at the sink of dishes because the dishwasher needs to be unloaded. Or the laundry basket that needs to be picked up. The call of those things can be surprisingly strong.
   

I have a whole new world of exciting symptoms I get to deal with now as well! Beside shrinking my testicles...or wait...I didn't have any testicles, maybe that's why they're so small now. ;-) I have the added bonus of a major break out, read: acne. Skin that is thin, dry & won't heal. Or won't heal very quickly. I'm scared to get a pedicure, and the thin, dry skin thing has made my heals a thing to be avoided, implying a pedicure is eminent. But I fear the beauty salon because of the healing thing and infection. My understanding is that steroids surpress your immune system, so I'm afraid of getting something serious (think MERSA, paranoid much?) and not having it heal. The skin on my face is a mess due to an acne break out & ingrown hair (chin hairs that have taken on new proportions, thank you testosterone increase,) that is out of this world. I assume these have stepped it up as a result of the steroids. I'm bloated, my face is rounder. So now, not just fat, but round faced, w/big ugly scabs & sores. Bet you're dying to see a picture now, aren't you? Fat chance.

I also have been dealing w/a very "fuzzy brain." I can't seem to remember things, or remember then clearly. That's not like me at all. Ironic, my brain was clearer when I was on the pain medication, than it is off. Go figure. My Twitter Dr. (who blows Dr. Google out of the water,) tells me that's more of an issue related to chronic pain, so maybe not from steroids, just from everything else. Not really a surprise. It's probably not new, I'm just trying to do and keep track of more, so I'm noticing it more is my guess.

I'm doing my best to keep some perspective on all of this. I am better, these things will pass & hopefully I will stay better, right? RIGHT?

An Afterthought

I'm not sure what to make of all of this. I wasn't going to write about it. There are some things you self censor about, and relationship issues with DaddySpeak are generally things I treat as off limits, unless/until resolved. Even then, there's usually a bigger issue that I'm talking about and the "resolved relationship issue" is a side story. But there's a trend going on here and I'm not sure what to make of it. Maybe you can help me make some sense of it. Sometimes, you're too close to the subject to see it clearly, forest for the trees and all.

In the last month DaddySpeak has regularly "let me down"about some (what I consider) fairly major stuff. He's had issues with scheduling for all three of my epidurals. Someone has to drive me home from the appointment. I also, should have someone around that day, just in case. He made it to the first one, though he had to call in sick, because he requested the next week off. I could tell from his reaction that some how this was my fault. It wasn't, not only did we talk about it over the phone, but there were texts involved. It was short notice, but he was involved in the decision. I wasn't too concerned, other than the response that implied it was my fault. I was frustrated, but you know, it happens.

The second epidural was also my fault because, I "didn't email the dates and therefore they don't exist if they haven't been sent in email." Yes, that's a quote. Again with the attitude that there is fault implied and how dare I expect him to take time off for this, again.

After that, I emailed the last date of the epidural to him. He swears I told him May 5. Maybe I did. I'm taking pain, nerve dulling & mild anti-anxiety drugs. I'm in a fair amount of pain consistently. The pain dictates my attention span more than I'd like to admit. It is likely that I will make some mistakes here and there. I would think I would've remembered noting May 5 (Cinco do Mayo) but maybe not. Anyway, on May 4th when it came up that the shot was not the next day, but the next week, I was told he could NOT take me on May 12 because he rescheduled a meeting that day based on being out on May 5. Um, OK. I don't know how important this meeting really was, maybe it was that important, but I'd be lying if I didn't admit my feelings were hurt. I worked it out with my parents to watch the girls AND take me to my appointment. I would deal with being home alone after the appointment. I've been fine the other two times, I suppose I'll be fine this time as well.

May 4th was also the date of my first physical therapy appointment since I started the epidural shots. The appointment involved mostly massage, and a little exercise. It didn't seem like much, but I was definitely feeling the affects of it by that night. I did not sleep well (i.e.--at all, more or less) that night from the pain. In the morning, when DaddySpeak was getting ready for work, I noted that he had already planned to take the time off. Since I was exhausted and hurting, perhaps he could stay home as planned. I was told no. He had things to do at work that day. This was the same day that after calling in the late morning to ask that he come home soon because I was NOT improving, Little jumped on my stomach. At that point, I called and TOLD him to come home NOW. I was seriously hurt and pissed.

So, my medical related needs are not the priority I feel like they ought to be with my husband. I can't say he hasn't been here for me in a big way on a day-to-day basis, because he has. And this has been going on forever. (In our FOURTH YEAR.) I get that. But like I said, I'd be lying if I didn't say my feelings were hurt.

On Mother's Day I don't think I had high hopes for much. But I did have a few small expectations. My expectations; sleeping in, a Starbucks mocha (preferable in bed, but not required) & breakfast (also preferably in bed, but not required). My mom's birthday fell on Mother's day this year, and as with all years we celebrated her b-day on Mom's day. This ends up meaning that once out of our house mom's day is pretty much over & it's my mom's b-day. It has always been this way, for me so I never gave it much thought, until I had kids of my own. I was going to host her b-day at our house this year, but because of my back issues my mom insisted she wanted it at her house. (I think she was secretly please, gave her something to fret over before hand and she could control the whole day to her satisfaction.) I think my hopes for mom's day for myself were small, but not small enough I guess. Little got up at dark o'clock. OK, I can't complain to much. She now sleeps in till SEVEN AM. No, it's not 10, but it's not 5:30 anymore either. She came in our room for snuggles. She wants to lay on MY side of the bed. (To get into stuff on my bedside table.) I convinced her to hit the middle of the bed, hoping she'd snuggle w/Daddy, and maybe I could go back to sleep. He tickles her till she gets annoyed and moves back to the edge of my side. Then he rolled over and WENT BACK TO SLEEP. Little will last, maybe, 30 min and then wants to get up for breakfast. I KNOW he was still awake when she started in to do this, but he feigned sleep. I GOT UP at 7:30 AM on Mother's day & made the kids breakfast. It wasn't anything fancy (toaster waffles). It's more about the point of it. This is like the one day of the year I ought to get to sleep in, right? Daddy got up at 11. Yeah, he totally slept in. When he got up he was all, "You let me sleep in till 11?" I just looked at him. I'm sure he did fall back asleep, but I KNOW he was awake when I got up with the girls. He then told me he'd be right back. He ran out and got me a mocha & an orchid. I guess, I should be grateful for the coffee & plant. It just felt so half-assed at that point, I was having trouble finding my graditude. Then I had to remind the girls it was mother's day & they had gifts they made for me at school. (It would have been nice if someone else had waited 10 minutes to get on the computer and reminded them for me. Maybe I'm getting into bitchy territory here, but I don't think it's much to ask for. I'm asking for some consideration.) Thank goodness for the schools or nothing would've happened for me. Because it was my mom's b-day, I then got to go to the grocery store 2x for the desert I was making. In the process, I saved DaddySpeak's butt, but reminding him to call him mom with the girls. (I did it for her, not for him.) Once at my mom's house, the guys all sit and watch TV, which means the women pick up, put together, feed the kids, and clean up. My dad did BBQ the meat, and do the dishes. But the dishes thing, was mostly because my SIL and I were in full protest by that time and refused to do them. I believe my SIL and I (and actually my BFF, which is another story) all should get a do-over on Mother's Day.

Today, I had my last epidural. This is the one he couldn't miss work because of a meeting. When leaving for work I noted to DaddySpeak that he would need to pick up the girls after work. That's when he sort of remembered I was having the shot. He never called today to see how I was, in fact, tonight he had been home for about 4 hours before he inquired. When he picked up the girls he said he was going to grab sometime to eat on the way home. I assumed he'd call when he figured out what they were getting to see what I wanted. He didn't. The girls came running up to see me and told me they had a surprise for me. They got me dessert. He "forgot to see if I wanted something." Obviously, I wasn't completely forgotten, dessert was procured. I wouldn't really think much of it all alone. The accumulation of these events is what's bugging me.

I get it, he's distracted. There's some stuff (position changes, people above him, not him,) going on at work, but he says it's fine. I don't know what to think anymore. I do know what I feel.
I feel like I matter very little right now.

Too Good To Be True - No Really

If I'd written this last night, I would've told you that I'd been pain-free (basically) since Thursday night. I had a Physical Therapy appointment that night and took a pain pill before it (precautionary) and that I hadn't needed a pain pill since then.

That's right, I didn't NEED a pain pill for 3 strait days. Crazy, huh?

But I didn't write last night, I went to bed. (Which is totally where I should be now, so this is going to be short.) Last night I did start to have pain, but nothing a little Advil couldn't handle. The muscles in my back were letting me know they weren't happy and spasms that tend to stay in my lower back area were traveling. I had a good one going under my right shoulder blade. But, like I said, nothing I couldn't handle. This morning I woke up and the spasms had increased. My back's way of early warning I guess. I took my Advil and got the girls off to school. I'd been planning in my head all the things I'd like to tackle around the house. Not having pain increases one's energy level exponentially. But, because I've burned myself in this respect before (meaning I have a tendency to overdo, I know who would've thunk it?) I'd been playing it safe. Laying low, feeling better, but waiting for the other shoe to drop so to speak. I got home and decided to sit on the couch for a few minutes. Driving in the car did not improve the way I was feeling. After about ten minutes I finally admitted to myself the nerve pain was back. I realized I was trying to talk myself out of taking a pain pill. Gawd! Sometimes I'm a moron! It's not a contest. I don't win a prize for not taking my pain pills when I need to, and it's nerve pain, I need to! It's not something that's going to be massaged out or something.

I took a pill and laid down. I ended up having to play catch up on the pain, and honestly I haven't really caught up yet. I had a physical therapy appointment this afternoon. He spent most of it working on massage. I'm pretty spasmed out. It wasn't a massage that felt better, it woke up a lot of unhappy muscles. I did do some grocery shopping and such after my appointment, but that was all I had in me.

So, I was feeling better! Yeah! But now I'm feeling bad again! Boo!
I have my last epidural shot tomorrow morning (Wednesday) . Hoping that I have some big positive response to it. I believe this weekend was a result of the last one, so I'm hopeful. I suppose that's something, isn't it.

Mommy Abuse

I'm here! Barely.
I had my first Physical Therapy appointment since starting the epidural shots and I'm rough around the edges from it. That was on Tuesday (It's Thursday night.) Tuesday night I was actually having quite a bit of pain. Not nerve pain (down my leg) though, more muscle spasm pain. It's good news. Signs of good things I suppose. But it makes for a grumpy mommy. It also affects how well I sleep. Tuesday night was "not very well." When I don't sleep well it really affects my pain level.
On Wednesday, I was obviously trying to take it easy. LittleSpeak was NOT so much into taking it easy. She started by wetting the bed at 4 AM. This is only the second time she's every wet the bed. There's not a good time to do it, but her timing did suck. I got things situated and then got DaddySpeak to actually change the linens. Then, BigSpeak decided to get up at 5:30 that morning. OOOOK. My kids are trying to kill me. Since Little was already in a mood she started with throwing tantrums for everything. And I do mean everything. She wasn't even waiting for me to say no, if I just didn't immediately say "yes" then she was on the floor whining and screaming. Lovely start to the day, no? She had her first timeout at 7:45AM. The day progressed more or less like that until we got Big from school. I was letting them watch a TV show to wind down when we hit bottom. Because I was exhausted and in pain, I was laying flat on the couch and had Little sitting on my hip. (Keeps me aware of anything she's getting into.) She got off for a second to get a book or something and, all the sudden,
JUMPED. ON. TO. MY. STOMACH.
She knocked the wind out of me. Remember, I have to brace my back to sneeze or cough and she hit me full force in my midsection without warning. When my voice came back I told her, "Get off of me!" It wasn't loud. I was still getting my breath back. But it was stern. And it scared her. She became a complete puddle. When I was able to get myself into a sitting position I gave her hug & comforted her. She told me I scared her. And I told her she hurt me. And she did. I fear, and it feels like, she undid the last 3 weeks of healing. Yes, I'm sure I'm being melodramatic. I'm sure it's not that bad. But right now, I'm a mess.
I called Daddy & told him to, "come home NOW." I told him what happened and explained that I wasn't sure what my back was doing, but it wasn't good and I'm pretty sure it's not improving in the near future. Once he got home I took pain pills and laid down in our bed. And was not able to get comfortable. Last night I think I got 2-3 hours of sleep. I was up and down all night. The pain is bad. I get into a position that it tolerable, but it doesn't last. I couldn't stay in any position for more than 30 minutes. More like 10-15 most of the night. It was a very, very long night. Luckily both girls had school today. I was surprisingly mobile after those 2 hours. My movement is good, so that's a good sign. I went back to bed and slept until Big came home from school. I took a shower in the afternoon which seemed to help a bit. Tonight I went back to physical therapy. My PT worked on making things move, and very minimal exercise.
I am tender to the touch EVERYWHERE in my back. It's reacting. But like I said, my movement is good. I'm hopeful about sleep tonight. I think it I can get to a point when it's not so tender I can get some rest. If I can get some rest, and keep this amount of movement, I might be on the upswing. If my kids stop beating on me. And actually let me sleep.
Who do call for mommy abuse or neglect? (The Spa?)

Not The Way I Wanted to Spend My Evening

Spent the evening in ER.
Yup, you read that right.

Big cracked her head on a neighbor's driveway this afternoon. Nothing earth shattering, but apparently skull shattering. I'm kidding, and no I don't have a day job to quit. It wasn't a bad fall, we played it down when it happened. That should have been our first clue, because we ALWAYS think it's no big deal when it actually is a big deal. A few hours later she was throwing up and I was on the phone with the advice nurse. Now, before you get all, why were you on the phone, and not in the ER, you should know that the stomach flu has been making it's rounds through our neighborhood this week. The kids we were playing with today, in fact, had the bug earlier in the week. AND, Big has had a rotten cold for that last couple of days. It's been all nasal, and it could even be allergies, but I've been holding my breath to see if the stomach bug has made it our way. My point is that she hasn't been 100%. When she bumped her head, (she fell off the back of a kid's battery powered ATV,) she cried, we put an ice pack on it, and then she played some more with her friends. It was clear that she wasn't into playing anymore and it was that time of the afternoon anyway, so we came home. She asked if they could watch a TV show, so I put one on while we started dinner. She complained about it being hard to watch the TV. But DaddySpeak thought she was being melodramatic because of questions we'd asked about her sight after the fall. We figured she knew that it was more serious if it was hard to see, and therefore, would garner more attention. She finished her show, but didn't want to watch anything else. She'd been complaining of a headache, but wasn't specific about where it hurt. She was also complaining about a sore throat. Then she bolted for the bathroom. I wasn't convinced it was related to the fall, but I was going to error on the side of caution. I was on the phone with the advice nurse as round 2 started. At this point, she was also acting like she might have chills, didn't want to be touched, was hot, was cold, was nauseous, etc... Also, all symptoms of a stomach bug. The advice nurse sent us to ER. While waiting in the ER she started acting sleepy, not exactly despondent, but not really wanting to respond to anything, (she wanted to be left alone). She just wanted to lie down. They took us in back & let her do that. She started to doze, and I watched her carefully. (I might have put my hand on her stomach a few times to be sure she was breathing.) I still thought it might be the flu. She wasn't running a fever, in fact, she was low, 96, but if you're fighting a bug, everything she was doing was exactly what you want to do in that situation. They woke her and gave her some medication for nausea and wow! how do I get me some of that next time my kid is sick? Within about 5 minutes of taking it she was a different person. Her eyes were clear (they'd been glassy,) her color was better and she was yakking away and acting like herself. I was feeling pretty certain this was a case of the flu with bad timing, but they were doing a CT to be sure. CT was clear, (obviously, or I wouldn't be writing this right now). And, we were set to go home.

Doctor came in to confirm paperwork (I know, the doctor did it, weird, huh?) and just give us an update about the next couple days. He told us there was no bleeding around her brain, so "good news". I said, "so she's got the stomach bug that's going around?"
Him: "No! She's got an upper respiratory infection, but no stomach bug. She was absolutely sick from her head injury. She took a good hit."
And then I threw up.
OK, not really, but the seriousiness of it sort of started to sink in right then.

Really, the seriousness of it hit when I saw my baby laying on the CT table. She suddenly was so small and vulnerable. If I go the rest of my life without seeing one of my children on a CT table it will be too soon.

They want us to take it easy on foods; clear liquids tonight, BRAT in the AM to build up, just in case nausea returns. Want her to stay home from school tomorrow, but otherwise she's fine. I told her we'd have a lazy girls day round the house tomorrow and she got all excited.
If I'm feeling up to it maybe we'll go do something like a movie, or tea for lunch or a pedicure.

Somehow, a lazy girls day feels a bit more special than it did yesterday.

Four

Four years ago today, my baby was born. No matter how old she gets, she'll always be my baby. I think she knows that too. She's my snuggler, but lately she's been taking that to a new level, even for her. This week she's been wanting to curl up on the couch on me & snuggle up to watch a show or read a book. I think the realization of not being the "little kid" so much any more is starting to hit her. For the first time, I think she's realizing that being the little kid isn't always a bad thing, and maybe she wants to hold on to it just a little bit longer.

It's ironic really, Little has been in a hurry to get big since birth. There is nothing more that she wants than to keep up with her sister. In every picture I have of Little, as a baby she is looking at her sister, without fail. While five is the big milestone in which many good things happen, four is a door opener for sure in her book. She's so pleased with finally not being three anymore, you can almost see a sense of relief on her face over it. And, so now she considers herself a "big kid" and while still checking in with me, all. the. time. about how "babies can't do this thing I'm doing right now, right mama?" Her highest priority on her party day was to make sure her sister wasn't left out. We went to a Pump It Up (easiest party I have EVER done BTW!) and the whole time she was keeping tabs on her sister. She would go off and run around with her friends, but would be sure to check to see where her sister was and touch base with her. When it came time for birthday cake, she happily took her place on the "throne" to blow out her candles, but she wanted to "sit by sissy" to eat that cake. We had to scoot kids around to accommodate her. When it was time to open presents, she made sure we knew that she wanted her sister to have a crown like hers, not a problem in our house, and that she wanted "Big to open some of her presents for her, so she wouldn't feel left out." Big, the caregiver that she is, was happy to dote on her sister and provide her every wish. In the end, I don't think Big opened any gifts, but read each and every card to her sister, who hung on her every word. Now, Big wants to write the thank you cards for Little, "because sissy can't write yet." The lovefest that is going on here is almost too much. Later this week, I want to write about the girl that Little has started to become. How three was hard, as expected. How she, and we have all grown this last year, and how excited I am for four for her. But for tonight, I want to relish the memory of the last couple days. When my two girls want nothing more than to make each other happy and are doing just that.

Kicking My Butt

If most people (my village,) saw what I was just doing, I would get my butt kicked. I bet one of them would seriously consider hurting me, if someone didn't kick it. A few minutes ago you could find me on my hands and knees with a kitchen scraper & cleaning wipe, working on cleaning the grooves in our kitchen floor. I'm sure it was a stellar choice for my back. I wouldn't really know, because it was already hurting and I just "went for it" ignoring the fact that I was in pain. I know what a bad idea it is, I get it. I really do. It's just so frustrating where I'm at right now. The floor was gross, it needed to be cleaned, I had the products to do so on me, so I cleaned it. But I'm gonna regret it in about 2 minutes. I know that too.

I am doing better. Really. I'm still in a LOT of pain. ALL. THE. TIME. But, you know what? That's not new. Since the shot, there's a baseline to my pain that has improved. So, yes, I'm in pain all the time, still. But NOT AS MUCH pain, all the time. My energy level is through the roof. I should qualify that. Normally, I do something and then I have to lie or sit down for an hour. (Get the kids off to school, lay on couch for an hour.) Now, I can get the kids off to school, stop at Starbucks for coffee, start a load of laundry and maybe even make a phone call before I have to lie down. You might think those things are no big deal, but trust me, moving the laundry load can be daunting when you're exhausted and in pain.

It's called babysteps people, and boy do I know about them. Because of this new found "energy" I'm tending to overdo. I have the energy to plan, yet not to execute. Before the shot, I didn't even have the energy to plan. It's progress, but it's progress that puts me on my ass & frustrates the hell out of me. But it's something, right? And it's all I've got for right now.

Like Labor, But Without The Pesky Baby At The End

Saw my third orthopedic doctor now. Personally, providing the reason for universal health care here.
I've seen this doctor before, Dr. K administered my epidural shots during the last go round with my back. It was a good visit, surprisingly long. I say that because I was there for an hour and a half, but didn't realize it till I looked at my phone on my way out. I guess that's good. Means I got a lot of good information. Dr. K thinks I have both disc material and scar tissue giving me issues. He's covering all the bases. (Dr. H (first dr.) thinks it's disc, Dr. R (2nd dr.) thinks scar tissue.) He was disappointed that my MRI wasn't done with contrast. If it had been, we would be able to see, for sure, what was scar tissue and what was disc material. So now I'm disappointed it wasn't done with contrast too. As far as my current status, the path I'm on would be the same. If this next step, an epidural shot, isn't effective, then it would be good to know for certain what is going on in there. He explained some of my options if it's scar tissue. I learned that there are some things I can do, beside surgery, if it is scar tissue. That was nice to know, all I've heard from the other doctors is surgery. Gotta be honest, not too keen on surgery again. Wasn't exactly effective for me the first go round. Not really interested in going through all that again, for nothing. I'm crazy like that though. For now, all three orthopedic doctors agree that I should be getting an epidural shot at this point. I suppose that should be reassuring, three of them agreeing on something. At this point, I'm more or less, Whatever, insert eyeroll, about it all. Dr. K did tell me if this doesn't work for me he'll order an MRI with contrast. He also has me scheduled for a nerve test for my right leg again. He's concerned about my lack of reflex in my right foot. (It's been like that since the original injury.) If nothing else, he's thorough.

Then Dr. K goes, "So you want to do it Wednesday?"
Me, "This Wednesday?"
Dr. K, "Sure. Or next. Whenever you're ready."

He went to go check on another patient and told me he'd be right back. And I fell out of my chair. I was kind of freaked out over having it done in two days. I'll be out of commission for a day or two. It's outpatient surgery. Yeah, it's outpatient, but it's still surgery. I looked at my calendar, at first I was thinking this week wasn't good because of the girls being on Spring Break. Then I realized, that was probably better. No one would need to schlep them to school, soccer, gymnastics, art, etc.... I wouldn't be worrying about schedules being kept strait and such. My parents had told me they'd take them for the day, so I could truly get some rest. Little doesn't handle this stuff well, she'll come in my room and want to snuggle or whatever. She's making sure her mama is still going to be there for her. In the process, she tends to get me to do things, like lift her, that are big No, Nos.
I called DaddySpeak (he'll need to be there for a day or two to make sure I'm OK.) He said he'd take of the days either week, but he thought I should do it sooner than later.

Me: "Next weekend is my Aunt & Uncle's (90th) birthday party on Saturday and Little's party is on Sunday. I don't really have to do anything for either, and should be fine for both, but there is a lot going on that weekend. But this Friday is the princess birthday party Big is invited to and I really want to be able to go take pictures at it."

DS: "I'll go take pictures at the party." (I swear I could hear his eyes rolling in his head.)

Me: "It's not the same. But I should be fine." (I know he was thinking he'll kick my butt if I'm not fine, but go eff myself up to 'get the shot'. He's totally right, I would do that, but I promise I won't.)

So on Wednesday, I'm having an epidural. Wish me luck!

My Super Power

That's right, I'm a Super Hero. Who knew, right? Turns out I do something so well, it's not just something I'm good at, I'm freak'n gifted at it. (Besides having babies, which yes, I do happen to seem to be excellent at, birthing hips and all, but I digress...) Turns out I'm really SUPER at...(wait for it)...SCARRING. Yeah, you heard me.

Ok, I'll explain. Went back to the neurosurgeon on Thursday. He thinks I do NOT have a herniated/bulging disc again. He thinks I have scar tissue pushing on the nerve. Not even a lot of scar tissue. He showed me on my MRI how in one picture you can see the nerve. The next millimeter down in that disc you can't (see the nerve), and the millimeter from that one you can again. So he doesn't think it's enough material to be the disc material and is actually scar tissue. Yep, scar tissue on my sciatica nerve. I am nothing, if not peculiar. He is advising me to have an epidural (cortisone) shot (in my back) and has prescribed a drug that should dull the nerve a bit. So why does scar tissue in my disc some how imply I have a super power? Well...

When I was 3 I was run over by a truck (yes, I need to write this post, I will one of these days, I promise). I had to have tubes put into my lungs. The scars resulting from that surgery are still quite visible. I keloid scar. (Warning; the pix they show in this article, is kind of gross, I think. Not for the faint of heart. My scars, while quite visible, much smaller, not so red anymore. You can see them, but most likely won't really notice them.) Anywho, I'm 41 years old and yes, you can still see quite well the scars on my chest from this accident. The scars are 37 years old. (No, I won't make you do math on here.) People who keloid, scar on the outside instead of the inside basically. Not just ugly, this can be a problem depending on where the scar is located. When I had my first child (yes, guys and easily grossed out, you will all want to quickly depart here,) I ripped a little. My doctor gave it one quick stitch. "It's not like it needs to be pretty." Great bedside manner, no? Six weeks later, I mentioned to a few moms in my new moms group that I had never stopped bleeding after the baby, (Bye Guys!) asking how long it had been for them. Later that afternoon in the doctors office....I was informed that I had formed a keloid scar down there. Your welcome. Except that when you keloid in that area, that kind of tissue won't heal. So I got to be "cleaned up" (cut again) and cauterized with a laser. I was assured it was not common for people who had this happen, to have it happen in future pregnancies, and with my second child it did not. She also weighed a pound less, so that might have had something to do with it, you think?

When age 7, I split open my face. My mom (who also has this problem) has had some severe scarring on her face and knows first hand, how they knock keloids down; sand paper. So, she wouldn't let anyone touch me until a plastic surgeon got there. I took 40 stitches (20 in the cut, and 20 out) to close an inch long gash on my cheek. It still "bubbled" and was red, but not the way it would have. And now, unless you know to look for it, you can't tell. But, even with that many stitches, I managed to put forth a small keloid.

Trust me, I have more stories. I think I've proven my point. I scar really well. Or not, depending on your viewpoint I suppose. So, my guess, is that the scar tissue pushing on my nerve, while not necessarily a keloid, is probably more scar tissue than the average person would build. Ergo: Scarring is my Super Power. I'll be taking Super Hero names in the comments.

A True Anniversary...No Joke

Today is April Fools. This is one of my favorite days of the year.


It was on this day 10 years ago,
my husband proposed to me

It was on this day 10 years ago,
I told him, "Yes, I would spend the rest of my life with him."

And it was on this day, 10 years ago,
our "marriage" began.

In my heart, I believe that the day he asked and I accepted, that was the day we were married.

That is the day that truly matters to me. The wedding day, the wedding itself; gravy.
A celebration with others of our love for each other. An official ceremony to declare ourselves to each other. A piece of paper recognizing that love by the government. That day, May 26, is very important too.

But April First, will always be the real beginning of my marriage.

This year is the first time in 10 years that DaddySpeak and I have been apart on our engagement anniversary. He's sailing with the menfolk of the family in the Bahamas. I'm fine with the fact that he's on the trip. I'm happy he got to take the trip, (though I admit I'd be happier for him if I was on the trip with him.) But today I'm sad and missing him, more than most days.

Not Such A Smart Cookie

Today, I finished (knock on wood) my turn as the "cookie mom" for Big's Brownie troop. Next year, when they ask for a volunteers, someone please kick me & remind me to volunteer to bring soda's to the Christmas party or something. I NEVER, EVER, EVER, EVER want to deal with money again! Gah!
What possessed me to volunteer for such a position in the first place you wonder? Guilt. What else, would force a perfectly sane person to choose to deal in with this level of stress and NOT be paid for it? When I signed up to do this position, it was October/November. I hadn't volunteered for anything in ages. I had my surgery in January, so that pretty much explains why I hadn't volunteered for anything, and the year before that was the reason for the surgery. I'd volunteered for a few things, but not much. So I was finally feeling better when the request for the troop cookie chair came up. Every other mom had totally put out for the troop during that last two years AND everyone else pretty much took a big step back and looked at ME! I fell for it, because of the guilt.
Initially, it seemed like it wouldn't be a big deal. We only have 12 girls in our troop and we weren't doing booth sales. "We wanted some funds so help the girls do some fun things, but we weren't some super troop!" I attended the training & thought, "Ok, I can deal with this." And initially, it was fine.

Round 1
Explained process to girls (and their moms). Hand out supplies, due dates & we're off and running. Everything is great.

Round 2
Girls turn in their orders and money for donation boxes. (People can purchase cookies to donate to the military, Red Cross or local food banks. We don't actually handle these boxes, so council wants money up front to know how much to order.) Had to chase down one girl for her info and two girls for money. One girl actually didn't get her money in, but others had collected for some of their regular orders & it was $20, it was covered & I'd be sure to get it when she paid for the rest. First mistake. Lesson: Same rules apply to everyone.

Round 3
Input girls orders (order actual cookies). Deposit donation money. Pick up cookies. Sort & distribute cookies. This is where I started to get all, "what did I get myself into?" I knew, but I didn't really know, until we had to take a van 2x to pick up our cases of cookies. Good thing we weren't a super troop. Sorting, while not really a huge deal, took way more time than I expected, and took a major toll on my physically. Had to chase down 4 girls to come pick up their cookies. One of them, for over a week!

Round 4
Money starts coming in! There were some mix ups with boxes, so many phone calls related to that. I was good about documenting all the exchanges and receipts for everyone. (Thank Goodness!) About half the troop got all their stuff delivered and turned in their money early or on the actual date I deemed due. (I'm not a fool, I padded my dates because I knew there would be stragglers.) I was also able to get a troop to troop transfer set up so that are extra boxes would not cost the troop. The stragglers killed me on this one. So, half, six of the girls got their money in on time or early. For the other six, two of them called & brought it the next day. One of them called me every day for five days to make sure they could hold off just one more day. She also wasn't sure they'd turned in as much as they thought they had for donation (they'd turned in more) even though she'd signed off on the amount on a receipt. Gah!!! The last two to turn in, one lives a couple doors down from me, and was just sitting on it. The last, was supposed to come over after school drop off, the day before my stuff was due. I hadn't slept the night before, so I called to see if we could meet after lunch. She was doing something unrelated and obviously had no intention of making it to my house anytime soon. Day flew by & we never met up. Called her at 8 PM & asked if I needed to come get it or if she could bring it over, because I had till midnight to finish my computer work. When she brought it over, she felt there was a discrepancy in the amount they'd turned in during donation time. She too had signed a receipt for the amount, but now looking back, thinks it must be wrong. But,she just write a check for the difference if I disagreed. (Said in a particular tone, indicating she didn't want to pay that difference & sure didn't think she needed to.) I told her to go home, I'd figure it all out & if there was more due, I'd call her later. In the end there was money missing, but the leaders and I agreed we didn't want to strain friendships over it, and the troop ate the difference.

What I learned?
From the moment I deal with money, make sure I keep each individuals stuff separate, even the deposits. I didn't do this for our donation money, I deposited in the bank all together. I should've done each girl's deposit separately so I could go back with the bank record to show each person. Also?

I will NOT deal with money for an organization again!

Lots Of Sand Round The House Of Speak. Need To Bury Something?

I know I've been MIA. This back thing, it's a tough one. Still. I'm trying not to focus on it on line because it's so depressing, which is part of the reason I haven't written. The other part is that I'm in denial or trying to be, about it all. I haven't set up my next round of PT, or my appointment w/my surgeon, I just want it all to go away. It isn't my personality to stick my head in the sand, but that's pretty much what I've been doing the last week. I have a constant reminder (pain) but otherwise, I'm trying to act like it's nothing. I would guess that I would be told I'm depressed, saved myself a couple bucks there, didn't I. Who needs a PhD? I think that's understandable; I'm in more or less constant pain, I'm going through EXACTLY what I went through a year ago, which didn't work, and I'm in year three of this crap! I have a child, who, at age 3, has decided she has sleep issues, (which are really control issues that are happening during the night.) There's a multitude of things I can't do because of my pain AND I've gained 30 lbs (20 from drugs, lucky me!) during this time. I think there would be something wrong with me if I wasn't depressed. I know I need to go see someone, but along with everything else I'm burying this one in the sand. I've been down this road before, as with any profession there are good and bad, I know that, but I've had more than one therapist who was not a good fit for me (aren't I PC tonight? Translation: They SUCKED!) I just dread going through THAT again. I find that realizing your therapist isn't a good fit is a really good exercise in failure. I know that's not what it is, but when you're in this state of mind that's how it feels. Putting my head in the sand is preferable to feeling like there's something else I'm failing at, you know.
Maybe I'll make a phone call tomorrow. Or not...

House Keeping, or Why My Back Won't Heal

I know, I sort of disappeared the last week or so. Was having a pretty good week and then, BAM! I totally overdid it at Physical Therapy on Tuesday and was pretty much a mess from then on. But, you know, life happens with or without me, so I continued playing mom's taxi & such as required.
This weekend was spectacular. My BFF came to visit from LA on Thursday. (Downside; she flew into SFO, which, you know an hour drive away. Since driving effs me up on levels I can't describe, that didn't exactly improve things.)
Friday, we went to The City (San Francisco) to see Wicked, which was amazing! (Read more here!) But also, more driving, BAH! (Though she did drive, so I could take pain pills to get through it all.) And I wore my boots (heels, not crazy or anything, but not slippers either) and I had to sit for 3 hours. Totally not the optimal way to make my back feel better.
Saturday, I was good and did not do the drive to the airport to take her home. Mostly because DaddySpeak (DS) & BFF made me stay home, but still, I was good that way. Later, we had to pick up Girl Scout cookies, because I am a moron the cookie chair for Big's troop. I did NOT load and unload boxes! I'm not a complete moron, but I did have to sort the 100+ cases of cookies for our 12 girl troop when we got them home. Sorting involved much reaching, pulling & shoving of boxes/cases for a couple hours that afternoon. Probably not on the list of things to do to heal a bulging disc. Saturday night, I went to a crab feed fundraiser for Big's school. It was fun, but again, couldn't wear my sweats or pjs, so the boots were on again. We didn't hang out too long after dinner, but it still involved much standing (at the beginning) and sitting for dinner (they did not provide couches or beds for me to lounge on, rat bastards!)
Sunday, yes it's still the weekend, I was a complete basket case. They ask you to rate your pain on a scale of 1-10, 1 being no pain, 10 being, can't move. I was a 9. I could move, but I didn't want to. I was taking 2 pain pills at a time to tolerate it. I let it get to the 4 hour window for the next round of meds and regretted that. Had to wait for them to catch up a second time. Won't be doing that again soon, trust me. We were supposed to go celebrate my nephew's 13th birthday Sunday night. I didn't go to dinner, DS and the girls went. I couldn't sit for any more than say a minute, and I sure couldn't do it in public. DS came and picked me up after, so I could go to my brother's house and watch my nephew open gifts and blow out his candles. I think my mom was shocked at my state. I showed up in my sweats (which was a step up, trust me,) barely able to walk, w/my eyes glazed over. Not sure if the glaze was from the pain or pills. I was in so much pain that I couldn't read or deal with light. I couldn't focus on anything but the pain. It was awful.
And here it is, Monday. I had a follow up with my orthopedic doctor (OD) today. I wasn't expecting much, I'm telling him how it's going, I live with me, so I know how it's going. I sure wasn't expecting the appointment to go the way it did. After some discussion, I found that this is a bulging disc, not just a tear. The rip is the same place I had surgery before. My (uneducated) guess is that because the surgeon didn't stitch the rip before (I think to avoid scar tissue, and he felt it wasn't big enough for more disc material to move into) more material has moved into it causing the pain. The OD wants me to go see the surgeon. OD is recommending another epidural shot, but he didn't have answers for several questions I had related to it, and thinks I should talk in depth to the surgeon. Great!

So THAT's where I'm at right now.

Another Milestone, "I Don't Like You!"

We've been barraged with illness here in the House O'Speak. Little started it with a really rotten cold which lasted 7 days at which time we spent a full night awake with her and a double ear infection. About a day after that, Big started with the cold. On Thursday (last Thursday) evening she got a fever that lasted all weekend. I could get it down to around 99, but until Sunday morning she was feeling cruddy and miserable. Little, in the meantime was getting better. And bouncing off the walls. On Wednesday, I had my first Physical Therapy (PT) appointment since my MRI diagnosis. By Friday, I was more or less couch bound. As you might imagine, the Speak house was big fun this last week. By Monday morning, Little was feeling like herself, Big was dragging herself along, as was I. Little saw her opportunity.

Little started with hassling her sister, of course. She wanted the pink spoon, and the orange cup, etc... After they ate, they went into the bathroom with instructions to brush their hair & teeth. Big has long hair, so it takes her a little longer and she's the one who actually needed to be somewhere at a certain time. Knowing this, Little made sure to grab the hair brush first. I was finishing getting Big's lunch together in the kitchen and could hear the scuffle starting the bathroom. I yelled for Little to give her sister the brush. Little yelled something to the effect that she needed it. I replied, "Give the brush to your sister, or you're going to get a time out!" To which Little responded by throwing the brush on tile floor, while yelling (in case the all caps didn't give it away), "NO! DAMN IT! I NEED IT!"

As you might imagine, my 3 year old was so dead not getting away with that one. I went into the bathroom, where I found her sitting on her step stool hugging the brush. I took the brush & gave it to her sister. Grabbed her wrist, and dragged her to the timeout chair. The whole time she was yelling at me how she, "Needed to brush her hair!" I was asking her if she wanted her mouth washed out with soap. She was not happy. As I placed her into the chair, she turned toward me and yelled, "Bad Mommy!" while trying to hit me. I grabbed her arm as it came toward me, so instead she tried to bite me. "THAT'S IT! YOU'RE GETTING SOAP!" And she got a pump between the lips. Soap in the mouth, pleased the heck out of her, as you might guess. She ran to the bathroom for water, which didn't help. So she shouted at me, "I DON'T LIKE YOU!" Ahhh, another milestone. (Her sister hasn't said this one to me yet.) I replied, "Well, I don't like the way you're acting." Then she became a puddle. I told her to go brush her teeth, that it would help. She asked me to help her, so I did. And we moved on.

And THAT is how my week STARTED.

Treading Water

I should've written this post earlier today, like right after my Physical Therapy (PT) appointment. I went back to PT today for the first time since my MRI. It really was a good appointment. Lots of (appropriate) exercise, no massage. Normally you wouldn't hear me happy about no massage, but last time I went to PT, the massage is what effed me up BIG TIME. I could tell by the end of the appointment that it was good, because I felt fatigued, but good. That's a first in a while. But, like I said, I should've written this right after, when I was feeling good. Right now, not so much. I've been icing, ibuprofen & (once Daddy got home) pain pills. I'm hoping that this is as bad as it will get, fingers crossed. Not likely, but a girl can hope.

This last week has been rough in general. We took the girls to our friend's lamb farm on Sunday, so I didn't get the rest I usually manage during the weekend. And did too much walking, bending and picking things up. Monday, when I'm usually my best of the week, I felt like I'd been run over by a truck. To make things fun, Little has had a really bad cold and is moody and crabby, (something about apples falling from their trees, hmmm...). As of Monday night it morphed into a really bad double ear infection. All this equals not much sleep or rest for me this week. Tomorrow, Thursday, will be the first day I'll have gotten a break and I desperately need it.

Honestly, I am feeling very discouraged these days. I'm happy to have a diagnosis. I'm glad to have something that can be treated, to be able to develop a plan to get better. But it's been a long time. This has been going on for 3 years, and is looking like it's going to be another year, at least. My girls don't remember a mommy who can participate in anything. Little had the epiphany this week that mommy wasn't always like this. She asked me yesterday how I got hurt. She's never known a mommy who can do things with her. I feel like I've already missed so much with her. Like I've missed her babyhood and now her toddler years are passing me by too. I'm tired of the way I look (extra weight) and having pain when I try to do something to improve on it. I'm disgusted with my eating habits, but also feel sorry for myself and thus eat more crap. I feel like my only relief (I wouldn't even call it pleasure) comes from food, so I'm not willing to give the crap up yet. And I'm incredibly sad about missing another ski season. I want to be the one teaching my babies how to ski. Skiing is my thing and I've barely gotten to do it with them. When I think about that, I'm near tears. Ok, to be honest, when I think about any of it I'm near tears. I'm definitely on the brink of a major depressive episode. I feel like I'm flailing around and no matter what I do, I can't seem to make any progress. I'm so frustrated! And I'm tired. I don't have the energy in me to even be mad about it anymore. I'm just sad. I'm trying, I really am, to keep my head above water, but I do feel like I'm sinking.

Rite of Passage -- The Haircut

I went away this weekend. Had a spa day with the girls down in Southern California. It was lovely. Till I got my phone from my locker at the end of the day. Had a couple calls, emails & text messages from DaddySpeak. I called him without listening or looking. It's extremely unusual for him to call me like that. Several times and all. He answered,

Him: "Did you see your messages?"
Me: "I saw you called & left messages, is everything ok?"
Him: "You need to look at your messages."
Me: "Ok, I'm getting concerned, everyone's ok, right? What's going on?"
Him: "I sent you a a picture, (I'm scrolling my email, not finding anything from him.) you need to look at it. Everyone is fine."
(I'm losing patience at this point. The tone of his voice tells me it isn't something funny or cute. But ok, no one's hurt.)
Me: "I don't have a message from you. Listen, what's up. Just tell me first, ok, I can tell from you voice I'm not going to be thrilled and whatever I'm imagining is worse than what you're going to say."
Him: "Ok, I SENT you a text with the picture in it! Little cut her hair."
Me: "WHA???? How, what?... How bad is it?"
Him: "That's why I sent a picture."
Me: "I don't understand how she got scissors, they're all up high. Even the ones that won't cut anything but paper..."
Him: "She was cold, so I told her to go to her room to get a sweatshirt. She was taking too long, so I went up to check on her and she was in the study with her bangs cut. She found them in a drawer in the study."

So apparently, Little climbed over a bunch of storage baskets and boxes to get to the desk in the study. I hid put a bunch of Christmas stuff in there and haven't gotten it out yet. So there's a huge pile of boxes and whatnot in that room, it was no small task for her to get to the desk. The scissors, jeez, we didn't know they were in there. Well, I didn't. I thought all the scissors in the house had been placed on a high shelf in the kitchen. Not that she couldn't have gotten to scissors placed high up, she's resourceful. I figured if they were up that high, hopefully someone would catch her before she actually got anywhere near them. I'm not surprised that she did it. That's why the scissors are stored so high up. I know my kid.

DaddySpeak gave her a time out & then whisked her to a close by hair salon. They basically cut the rest of her hair shorter, as if a short bob with extra short bangs was what we wanted. Remember, Little has curly hair (like her mama) and I had a hard time finding a kids cutting place that knew how to cut curly hair. Obviously, that's not where he went. I'm not holding out too much hope on the quality of the cut. We'll see. His intention was good.

Bet you think that's the end of the story, don't you? Ha, ha, it's never that easy with Little. After they got back from the hair dresser Daddy was keeping an extra close on her. She wasn't too happy about this new development, so she went into the bathroom and then came out & informed him she peed. Yes, she peed herself standing next to the toilet. She was quite pleased with herself. The next morning she came in from the bathroom and informed him she'd done it again. She was naked from the waist down, she told him she'd put her pants in the sink, like he'd done with hers when cleaning up the night before. When he went into the bathroom he found her dry pants in the sink. "Just kidding" she says.

OH. MY. GOD. She's three!
I was sick at the thought of what else she could've done in the time she had to cut her hair. How she could have hurt herself. I'm mean seriously physically ill. My stomach was in knots at the thought. She needs to understand why what she did was not OK. That when mommy and daddy say not to do something, you don't do it.
Obviously she's enjoying the attention this whole deal has brought her, so I realized I needed to find some kind of punishment that meant something to her. A spanking won't work, she'll try to hit you back. Taking away a favorite toy, she'll hand you a few more. Time out, this warrants more than a mere time out. Showing her what her hair looks like, she's proud of the job she's done & is enjoying all the attention it's providing. No, I need to hit her where it hurts.

Starbucks.

No Starbucks for a week. "Won't that be a punishment for you as well?" Nope, it won't. I fully intend to go to Starbucks with her in tow and not let her get anything. I also intend to take her sister and get her something, but not let Little. Sounds mean? It is, but that's the point. It needs to really bother her. It needs to make her think twice about doing something like this again. Right now, she thinks her antics have garnered her lots of attention (granted it's negative, but she doesn't seem to mind) and a trip to the hair salon. I want her to realize that she lost something over this incident. She needs to understand that, or I can't imagine what she'll be like by age 13.

Back In The Saddle

I'm sitting in SJC as I write this, waiting for a flight to go have a MUCH NEEDED girls weekend in Southern California. Because of my back, this ongoing injury, the associated Physical Therapy (PT) & doctor appointments, getting ready for this weekend AND regular day-to-day stuff, last week was exhausting and this week was a bit crazy. DaddySpeak has been a freak'n SAINT. Basically allowed me sit on my arce all weekend, (but kept the house up) so as to allow me to rest my back (and not freak out come Monday, or Tuesday in this case, morning).

Wednesday evening I finally got the results back from my MRI. I have an annular tear. Because of the craziness of my day and my shock at what the doctor was telling me, I did not find out what vertebrae is affected, tho my gut tells me it's still the L5/S1 variety because of the sciatica pain & such. This doctor did not have a copy of my old MRI results so I also don't know how this compares to the hernia I had, how close it is to that location, if it's the same place, somewhere altogether different, etc... Obviously, all good information to get, and I will. For now, I'm basically back to square one. I kid you not. I know!!! This is basically how they started out treating my disc problem, which is "wait and see." If it doesn't improve in a couple weeks, then we'll discuss "shots," which I know is epidurals w/steroids AGAIN! FML!!! Doctor also suggested, "if I'm open to it" (which I am) PT to help build my core and see if we can work out the tweaks being formed around the tear as a result of my response to the pain. I'm supposed to keep my activity to things that don't hurt. And that cost how much for you to tell me? Because I'm pretty sure I figured that one out on my own.

Surprisingly, I'm not devastated (yet). You would think three years into this, and starting over with a similar problem might be devastating, and at some point it probably will start to feel that way. Right now, I'm actually relieved. Shocking, I know. No really, I'm relieved that there is something that shows up on tests. Suffering from Fibromyalgia, I went 15+ years of going through test after test, doctor after doctor, only to be told time and again how "it's all in my head." I had symptoms that were severe enough to warrant the tests, but no one could nail anything down. To me, not knowing what's wrong, is actually the worst. Yes, a diagnosis with no treatment would be awful, but at least you know there's nothing more you can do for it. At that point you can "manage" it. Not knowing, you don't know what to do. And the not knowing, if it goes on long enough, people doubt something is really wrong with you. You get labeled a hypochondriac. Nevermind, that you have symptoms that warranted the tests in the first place. When the people who are closest to you give you that look, the one that let's you know they're wondering if you aren't being just a little dramatic, that when you start to doubt yourself. Once that happens, that's when the depression sets in. THAT's the worst. Being sick and being depressed about being sick, because no one believes you're really sick. (Turn that sentence over for a minute. Yeah, THAT sucks.) So you can see how, finding something on a test, even if that means it's not great news, brings me a sense of relief. It gives me something to work on, a goal, a direction. And for you interwebs, more of my horrible "back" puns.

Now, to get back to the business of getting better!

And In Other News, Want To Buy Some Cookies?

Last week was a wash. (And the way it's raining, this week will be awash too. Badaboom!) Seriously, though, that's an understatement. Obviously, my lack of posting indicates I was less than stellar. (That, or I was having the time of my life. Your odds are always better w/the sucks option when it comes to me.)

I could review it for you, but basically it comes down to lots of "Ow! My back hurts! I have nerve pain! My right foot has minimal feeling." The usual oldies, but goodies. To mix it up a bit, my left foot/inner calf decided to join in the game & my fingertips have started to play let's be numb & tingly too. Guess they were feeling left out. PT gave me some minimal relief, but put me into bed for 3 days and then upon calling the doctor (the new numbness in my left leg and fingers scared me a bit) I was told to stop PT for now & scheduled for another MRI. I'm waiting for the results of that now. I've found that if I rest & take it easy I don't have so much pain & numbness. Unfortunately, my kids aren't so into hanging around watching me veg out. Rat Bastards! So, I'm doing my best to lay low when I can.
In the meantime, when I'm not laying low, we've been out selling Girl Scout cookies (wanna buy some?) This is my thing, not Daddy's, so I have sucked it up a couple times and taken Big out to sell. Just to neighbors we know, we're not going crazy here. It's refreshing to see her excitement at just selling. Just getting the "yes" makes her so happy. She doesn't really care how much they buy, and she knows she's going to "get a prize" for what she's sold, so she's thrilled. Being around a 6 year old is a good reminder for how simple things can make you happy.
That & a box of Thin Mints.

Grateful, but not Dead

Ever heard that expression, "She plans & God laughs..." I know I've brought it up before, because God, apparently she thinks I'm freaking hilarious.

I mentioned last week that my health, aka-my back, has been less than spectacular lately. I finally got into a doctor & found out that I "hyper-extended my sacroiliac joint". WTH, you ask? Well your sacroiliac is basically your tail bone. My tailbone is shifted to the right & sitting up against the right side of my pelvic bone. The ligaments, tendons, etc...associated with the bones/joints that make up your tail bone are stretched in a way that they aren't too happy about, and are letting me know that. I'm in Physical Therapy (PT) now. The Physical Therapist (I'll call him Larry) isn't entirely convinced that's all that is going on in there. I still have lots and lots of nerve damage down my right leg and foot. (More about that later, I'm pretty sure this isn't the end of the nerve damage discussion.) He thinks what's going on in my backside is still affecting nerves, but is going to go with the doctor's diagnosis for now. Depending on how I respond to PT he'll know better if there's more than just my joint having issues.

I LOVE my PT BTW. I've had more than my fair share of experience with PT's and Larry seems to be the real deal. There's a "touch" that some of them have, that can't be taught. My experience has been that more women seem to have this than men, but Larry has it. There's a homeopathic treatment he's using that seems like a very, very light massage/pressure point while moving my leg to adjust the muscles, ligaments and tendons to move things where they should be, instead of where they are. It doesn't seem like he's doing all that much to watch or even really to feel, but when things are coaxed into place, what a huge difference. Bummer is that they do tend to move back after a while. Everything in there is extremely tender, and this particular issue affects the muscles, et al. that wrap around my hip (which I could've told you). On Thursday, I had my first full blown appointment. Afterward, I was sore, but not dying. I even felt a little energized because of the relief of everything being where it should be for a short period. Friday morning was a different story. It was bad. Really, really bad. I thought maybe walking Big to school would help loosen things up, (sometimes if I get moving, even though it really hurts to start, it'll loosen up and feel better, if I don't overdo it,) but it didn't. Got home and laid on the couch with Little. (I was hurting too much to even drive to Starbucks! Yes, it really was THAT bad.) She watched a couple shows sitting on me on the couch. (My old mode of operandi, so I won't conk out on her and not realize she's moved on and is scaling kitchen cabinets to get to the special candy hidden up high, or cooking soup or setting off fireworks. It IS Little we're talking about here.) I got her to bring some toys over that we could play while I laid there, but it was getting much, much worse. In her defense, she was getting bored with this, but so far had been really, really good for me. (That's not something you hear me say everyday, now is it.) I finally broke down and called my parents. It wasn't even noon and I couldn't see myself making it all day like this with Little. They came and got her for the rest of the day. Thank God! I was going to take half a pain pill and see if I could sleep for a couple hours to get some relief. About half an hour later, a mom of one of Big's friends called to see if she could pick her up after school for a playdate. I can't begin to tell you how grateful I was for her. Her older child was having a playdate already, so "it's always easier to have both kids have them at the same time or she becomes the playdate." I told her what was going on with me and how grateful I was she had called. Know what she then did? She told me she'd bring Big home when they were done, so I wouldn't have to worry about driving and could take whatever pain pills I needed. Then she said she was going to Target right then anyway, did I need anything, AND could she pick up take-out for us when she brought Big home, since I obviously wasn't going to be up to making dinner. I almost cried. (I'm almost crying writting about it now.) We had more than enough leftovers, so I thanked her but told her we were fine (and we were). This women is a friend, but she isn't like my best friend or anything. Our kids were in kindergarten together, and are friends. But her generosity on Friday, was above and beyond anything I could've hoped for. My back is still awful (as of Sunday night) and it's bad enough that I'm calling the doctor about pain meds and such (I'm using what I had left from my surgery last year, but I'm low) tomorrow. I think God is trying to remind me I'm not alone in this, that I have more friends than I realize and when I need to, it's OK to reach out. I am grateful for her gernerousity and only hope I can someday return the favor. We have so many friends (and family) that have blessed us in ways that I can't begin to repay.

Also, "Hey God! I get it now! Can we move onto the next lesson? And can this one, not involve any pain? Please?"