Not a good week!

Dec 03, 2009

Last Friday my hubbie and I took the kiddle and my sister to Descanso Gardens in Los Angeles. Immediately before our initial bathroom trip (3-year-olds are notorious for announcing they have to go when you are at the furthest possible point from the bathroom -- so we plan ahead and try to go potty whenever we're near one) I bent over and lifted my 35-pound kiddle out of the stroller and tweaked my back. I figured I'd pulled a muscle. 

Only pulling a muscle for me means that if I take it easy for a couple days, it gets better. It hasn't. Last night I broke down and asked my hubbie to take me to urgent care. I was sick of having stabbing pain everytime I tried to stand up. (I also figured if i yowled "Jesus-God" at 185 decibels one more time I was going to get struck with lightning.)

I was concerned that I had a kidney infection or something because the pain had moved from around my tailbone to an area more inside and to the left. And this is TMI, but the pain had went down a notch after a very productive trip to the restroom.

We got there about 8 p.m. I think I saw the P.A. at about 9:30 or 10. (I spend so much time in doctor/hospital waiting rooms that I don't look at clocks anymore because it always takes twice as long as you think it will.) Peed in a cup. X-ray. Then she told me the results: degenerative disc disease. She said I needed to make an appointment with my doctor to get a referral to a spine specialist.

She wanted to give me a prescription for some heavy duty ibuprofen (I WISH!) -- I said no, can't take it. She wrote a Rx for 10 vicodin. I got home about 11:30.

First thing this morning I called my doc (who after Jan 1 won't be my doc any longer). They couldn't get me in today, but  graciously allowed me to come first thing tomorrow on free client day at her practice. (She does a lot of charity work, which is nice. But the waiting room reminds me of what I've seen in movies and on TV about what a doctor's office in the slums of Calcutta or Mexico City look like. There are more signs in Spanish than in English. And they do everything on paper. I think they use messenger pigeons instead of fax machines. And my biggest beef: THEY DON'T TAKE CREDIT CARDS!)

I missed work today. So now I'll have one day of paid time off left. That I'll probably end up using tomorrow.

So, the week's been painful, literally. I'm upset about what this diagnosis is going to do to my life. Am I going to be able to exercise again? To walk and not list to one side?

I don't know how I'm going to take care of my family, including my 76-year-old mother who is scheduled for an aortic valve replacement (open heart surgery) on December 21.

I'm worried that getting to see this specialist will take forever. (I broke my foot in 2002 and this medical group took 1 1/2 months to get me in to see an orthopedic specialist who said my foot had already started healing and though it wasn't correct, he couldn't do anything about it.) 

I'm worried that I won't be able to have another child.

On the other hand, maybe the spine doc will see me next week and say "you need a pannulectomy right now to fix your problem." Oh, a girl can dream!

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