August 3, 2015:
My back pain finally got so bad that after several months of trying chiropractic adjustments, massage therapy, accupuncture, and going through all the leftover pain medication in the house, I just couldn't stand it any longer. Finally went to the ER. They took some XRays (which showed nothing was going on with the bones like a tumor or bone spur), gave me some heavy pain meds to get the pain under control and told me to follow up with my PCP and do some physical therapy because it was just back low back and sciatica pain.
Three shots in the bum: steroid, anti-inflammatory, and pain med.
August 9, 2015:
Didn't even make it a week and I was back in the ER. The pain was excruciating and I was crying because I couldn't handle it anymore. My back hurt. My right leg was on fire. Literally, it felt like the whole thing was on fire and was numb and tingling. The doctor on call ordered a CT Scan. Trying to get off the table after the CT Scan I damaged something. I don't know what I did, but as I was trying to sit up, something in my back pinched and it felt like someone shoved a red hot fire poker all the way down my leg. It was the most extraordinarily horrific and excruciating pain I have ever experienced in my life. Before the Scan they had given me some morphine for the pain I had been in. When I came back into the room I was screaming hysterically in pain (I couldn't help it) and they gave me some dilaudid (which is supposedly 7x stronger than morphine). According to the nurse it was supposed to kick in within 5 minutes.
It did not.
It took 45 before I was finally able to handle the pain, but it still took longer before it fully went away. I don't ever want to go through something like that again in my life.
Because of whatever he saw on the Scan, and I'm assuming because of the pain I had been experiencing, the ER doc on call called over to another hospital in the system that focuses on neurosurgery, to talk to the neurosurgeon on call that night. Unfortunately, he was in surgery, so we ended up having to wait until early morning before he was able to look at the Scan. In the meantime I was moved to the Observation area, because I couldn't be formally admitted yet until a problem was found.
Finally about 3am the neurosurgeon looked at the Scan and ordered and MRI. After the MRI (an experience I don't ever want to repeat in my life unless I am heavily sedated. I didn't know I was claustrophobic until being inside that machine) the neurosurgeon ordered me on strict bedrest, and to be transferred to his hospital (Banner Good Samaritan) for emergency surgery the next day. Turns out all the pain I'd been in was because of a severly herniated disc. My nerves were being so squished and crushed that he said I was one bad step, twist, fall away from everything being crushed back there and being paralayzed, possibly permanently.
After the shock of how close to such a dangerous ledge I was, and the possibly permanent consequences I could have ended up living with, I agreed to have the procedure done and be transported, via ambulance.
Mom and Dad followed me over and we called J.R. to come and give me a blessing. I spent an anxious night, worried about going under the knife the next day, and having a noisy room-mate, I was able to get a little bit of sleep.
Mom, Dad, and Julia came back in the morning. Julia painted my toenails for me and they did their best to talk to me and I tried to keep my mind off my nervousness about my upcoming surgery.
They brought me a new friend: a cute little coyote I decided to name him lumbar.
I was told the surgery went well, and only last about an hour and a half. I don't remember much after the anathesiologist said, "I'm going to give you something to relax." By the next morning I was up and walking. Slowly. But walking. I asked Mom to take a picture of my scar since I couldn't see it.
I sent a copy of it to J.R. (cuz I knew it would gross him out) and he sent this back to me: "Back-ula".
I came home with lots of pain meds and was pretty doped up for the next couple days, thanks to Mom waking up multiple times during the night to give me my meds. After a week, or so, I was starting to feel pretty good and getting back to normal. I was able to walk, albeit still slowly, and shower, with the help of a shower chair, and able to rest in one of the recliners in the Family Room.
The kids in Primary at church all drew/wrote me get well cards and they were the cutest things ever.
About 10 days after my surgery I started going back to work, part-time. I did a few hours a day at the office, slowly upping the hours over the next week. At my two week check-up with the surgeon, I was doing and feeling well. He said the incision looked good and I could start to do more things (bending, lifting, twisting, etc.) bu to take it slow and listen to my body - not going beyond my abilities as I was still recovering from major surgery.
That weekend (8/29/15) I felt really tired and worn out and my back muscles were stiff and sore. I spent most of the day just hanging out in the recliner, watching HGTV and trying to deal with the pain.
My muscles continued to tighten up as the day worn on and that night was HORRIBLE. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't find a comfortable position anywhere: bed, couch, chair...nowhere. In the morning (Sunday) Mom stayed home from church with me and I decided to try laying down on the floor. The floor helped a little, but it was hard to get up and by afternoon I was hit by overwhelmingly painful, and non-stop back muscle spasms. I could not get up off the floor because I was in so much pain.
At this point I had run out of pain meds and hadn't been taking them for a few days because I had been doing okay without them. Steven, Kristen and their kids were over for dinner that night and Steven went home to get some leftover meds he had from a previous injury. He brought them over and I took them, hoping they would help with the spasms and allow me to get up off the floor. Julia looked up online that apparantly these muscle spasms are very common after the type of surgery I had. The problem was: the WORST place to be was on the floor, because everyone said once they were down, they couldn't get up.
Dad and Steven gave me a blessing. I tried to slowly get up and then, despite the horrible pain, Mom, Dad, and Steven lifted me up the rest of the way. Once I was standing and up off the floor, the spasms were still happening but weren't has horribly painful, or lasting as long. I was finally able to get into a semi-comfortable position back in the recliner and doped up on the meds Steven had brought over. A call was put in to my surgeon to get some feedback and see what I should do, and/or get a refill on my meds to help, but because it was Sunday we knew we wouldn't get a call back until morning.
That night I think my body went into shock. I had uncontrollable, full-body shivering chills for about an hour. Despite the fact I was wrapped up in three heavy blankets and my Mom was literally laying on top of me in the chair to add warmth, I could NOT get warm, or stop shivering. Finally, I was able to get everything to calm down and get some sleep. I know Mom was really worried and said the next morning that she had been on the verge of calling 911 because shock can be so dangerous. Again, like the MRI, not an experience I want to go through again.
After not hearing back from the doctor on Monday (after another call) because he had been called into surgery, I went through another day of alternating chills and sweats, painful muscle spasms and just trying to get through until we could talk to the doctor. We called again on Tuesday but were told he was again called into surgery, so it was probably best if we went to the ER.
So we did.
It was a slow and painful process getting up, getting out of the house, getting into the car, and getting out of the car once we were at the hospital.
Back in the ER.
Unfortunately, there was nothing they could do except try to get the pain under control, give me some muscle relaxants and pain meds and send me home.
One of the ladies fro the ward brought me flowers. They were the only ones I got (except a small bouquet sent from Aunt Maureen) that I got through this whole experience.
Finally the doctor called back and we were told that unfortunatly this was what a lot of patients call "hell week". He said the spasms were normal because of the nerves and muscles healing and rejenerating after surgery. It was frustrating, though, because I had been doing so well and now I felt like I was back at square one. Not even square one. It was like square negative ten.
After getting back from the hospital, getting pain med and muscle relaxers to keep the spasms semi-under control, something started happening at my incision site. Where before it had been healing fine, it was now starting to leak. Mom was really worried. We made an appointment to go see the surgeon. He took a .5 second look at the wound and said it looked fine. He said, sometimes wounds leak a few weeks after surgery. I also thought it might have had something with the muscle spasms, because one of the ways to get them to stop was to push on the muscles that were tensing up and we had been pushing on them HARD. I thought, maybe it was just a consequence of that?
So back home we went. I wasn't able to do anything. I wasn't able to go to work due to the pain, fatigue, and inability to sit up for more than a minute or so (and that only on the toilet), and still dealing with alternating chills and sweating. As the week continued, my wound continued to leak and it was starting to leak some really gross stuff. We had another appointment with the surgeon a week later. This time he took a longer look at it and said that I had an infection inside and I needed to have it opened up and cleaned out.
So back to the hospital I went.
Right there from the doctor's office. He called over and told them he was admitting me for surgery the next day.
As I was waiting for my turn, Grandma McLaws and Aunt Marian showed up with an eatible arrangement! I've always wanted one and I finally got one!
This time my hospital stay was a little longer than just a day. The bacteria they cleaned out needed to be cultured so they knew what kind of antibiotics to give me and what to be concerned about. They put me on an IV broad-spectrum antibiotic. The first culture to come back was enterobacteria, so along with the broad-spectrum, they put me on an IV antibiotic for that bacteria, along with pain meds as needed. This time, I had a harder time recovering. I think it was because this was the second surgery I'd had in 5 weeks and my body was tired and worn out.
I ended up in the hospital for a week this time. It took some of the cultures a long time to finish growing and they wanted to make sure there wasn't anything else I should be treated for. It finally came back that it had only been the enterobacteria that had gotten into the wound site. Then came the decision of whether or not I had been on IV antibiotic long enough, if I needed to continue to stay on IV, or if I could just take oral antibiotics at home. I was finally given permission to take oral antibiotics (for the next three weeks) and discharged.
This time I came away with a pretty gnarly Frankenstein-ish scar (just in time for Halloween). No chance of ANYTHING getting in this time! (The band-aid is cover a small spot where I had a drain coming out for a few days.)
Let this be a lesson kids...don't smoke! LOL
Now I am almost 8 weeks post my second surgery and I am just NOW starting to feel a little like I did the second week after my first surgery. I took a shower today for the first time standing up (not using a shower chair), but I am still dealing with a lack of energy and some pain. I went to see a pain specialist a couple weeks ago and she's working with me on getting the pain under control and weaning me off the meds, because one in particular is pretty addictive and can't be stopped cold-turkey, otherwise there could be some pretty detrimental and even fatal consequences. The only place comfortable to sleep is the couch, and I still spend a lot of time resting in the recliner. I need a walker to get around, but I am starting to walk a little bit without it (as long as there are walls, or chairs around that I can grab onto when I lose my balance). I haven't been able to go back to work and I've been trying to get onto disability with the government, but that is proving to be next to impossible. I don't understand how so many other people are able to do it and get onto these sorts of government programs...I haven't been able to go back to work since the end of July. And having to consider handing my car back in early and taking a penalty for breaking my lease because I am completely (and I mean COMPLETELY broke). I can't pay any of my bills and am having to rely on Mom and Dad right now for everything.
It's also been hard because I've had to miss out on a lot of things, like my niece's baptism and my grandpa's funeral. (Grandpa McLaws finally passed away in October and the funeral was on the 9th).
I haven't been able to go to church, because sitting up for that long is hard, and it takes so much energy to get up, showered, dressed, and put make-up on in order to make it there by 9am. By the time I'm done getting ready I'm exhausted and about ready to collapse. I am trying to maintain hope and have faith that things will work out. I'm keeping my resume up to date for when I feel able to sit up for more than an hour or so and could go back to work. This week has been the first week that I've felt more like myself and felt like I've had more strength and a little more energy. I was able to go and do a temple session with my Mom. Luckily I was able to just sit for the majority of the time, but then came home and overdid it by sitting at the table for hours helping to make a funny, home-made birthday card for my brother. Yesterday and today I've been getting back my little bit of energy and strength from doing too much. I don't know if I'll have a job (once I'm able to start working again) since they've hired a temp and I'm not sure how much longer her job will be temporary and they will decided to make it permanent. I am really starting to go stir-crazy and want to get out of the house, but I'm still only able to do so much before losing energy and it's hard to do things with a walker or cane, which I still need to get around.
Thankfully my scar has healed perfectly this time. No more infections! I am looking forward to the day I don't have to take anymore pills and I'm able to get back to "normal" life. I haven't been able to even go to church until last week, and then was only able to do the first hour. This week is Stake Conference (two hours) and I'm going. I've been feeling stronger, like I said, and was able to go to the temple this week, so I'm hopeful I'll be okay. Then, fingers crossed, I can do the full block next week.
I will try to be better about updating and let you all know how my recovery progresses, Sorry if I grossed anybody out with the pictures of my scars. LOL.
