It has been awhile since I’ve blogged about my medical issues. In “real life”, I rarely discuss them because there are so many more creative things to talk about! But this is a site for “Mining Treasures in Illness and Pain”. And I believe with all my heart that modern medicine is a Treasure with a capital “T”.
Ongoing, accelerating lower back pain motivated me to see my Pain Management Doctor earlier than routinely scheduled. The pain meds that I’ve been using were not sufficient. I have difficulty admitting to myself that these meds are even necessary, because I was raised to “think tough”, and that’s what I do. But pain is real, and it is debillitating!
I found myself between the proverbial “rock and a hard place”. The pain would sock in like London fog every morning, and get stronger throughout the day. With my limited meds, I was around a 6 or 7 on the scale by mid afternoon. If we had no plans for the evening, or company coming for dinner, I would slow down to a crawl and go to bed early. Then I’d judiciously take the remainder of my pain allotment while spending the evening reading, knitting, or sketching in bed. Finally, sleep would come—but not comfortable sleep, and when I woke up the next day I felt like I hadn’t really slept at all.
If we did have late afternoon or early evening plans, I would need a pill just to stay on my feet and go through the motions of being sociable. Then there would not be enough of the allotted meds remaining to get me through the night.
I might have been reticent to share all of this with the doctor, because I keep thinking tough. But fortunately I have a husband (truly a Treasure with a capital “T”) who is his wife’s “keeper”. He firmly stated, “If you don’t go to your appointment and tell the doctor exactly what is going on, I will!” So I did. I confessed all to my doctor, and asked very tentatively if it would be possible to have a different pain med or more of the same.
A caring physician is a Treasure with a capital “T”. My doctor wrote a new prescription doubling the amount I can take as needed. Then he scheduled steroid injections—one in each of three facet joints where the padding is gone and bones are rubbing on bones. If the injections don’t work, the next step will be nerve oblation, in other words actually burning the nerve endings to desensitize them. That procedure sounds a bit horrendous, but according to many reports it works for up to eighteen months. We’ll see.
After several days of being able to take additional medication, I feel more rested and energetic than I have for months. Whereas every move I made took extreme effort before, now I can move around a bit more comfortably with relief as needed. I have not yet taken the maximum prescribed dosage. Just a little more has made something of a difference, and I’m encouraged because I have a husband and a doctor who are determined to help me in every possible way.
I realize there often is no such thing as a ”magic” pill, or a completely successful medical procedure—especially where mellow, life-seasoned bodies are concerned. Something will always hurt. But we deal in degrees. We attempt to control our pain to a point where we can continue being active and living a productive life. Any degree of improvement is appreciated; every upward measure, every new attempt, every procedure of mercy is a Treasure with a capital “T”!
Margaret L. Been, ©2012
