Friday, August 28, 2009

I hate pain medication

I had the injection yesterday. The office is wonderful. They give you the standard, fanny-exposing hospital gown, but with a robe to cover that fanny. I took a Xanax an hour and a half before the procedure. They recommend 30 minutes before, but it doesn't it me fast enough. I was also nauseous, so I had 1/2 a Phenergan.

I learned something. The woozieness from the medication disappears when you're face down on the table, with someone painting chilly Betadine (sp?) on your back.

I needed four shots, two on each side of the problem spot. My doctor comes in and works quickly. "A stick and a burn," he says.

I feel the stick. "There's the stick," he says.

I feel the burn. A big burn. "There's the burn," he says.

"Now a small stick. That's the needle going in." I feel that, too, all the way in.

Three more times.

I feel things being hooked to the needles. Tubing for the medication. "As the medication goes in," he says. "You'll feel a fullness in there. Some pressure."

I felt that. Like a balloon inflating in my bones. The pressure hurts, more than the stick-and-a-burn.

Four times, and it's done. He says it went well and will see me in my exam room in a moment.

The nurses clean me off and put big bandages over the small of my back. They tie the gown and help me up. "Are your feet numb?" No, they're fine.

We walk back to the exam room. We chat about how Daughter is friends with the son of one of the other doctors in the practice. A good kid.

My mom is in the exam room. She insisted on being in there, instead of Ranger. She can be very pushy, and thought it more appropriate she help me if I needed assistance getting dressed again.

I'm still sore. Is it my regular pain or from the injections? I can't be sure.

The doctor comes in, all smiles. "How are you feeling?"

"It's still a little sore, but that just might be the shots," I said.

His smile dimmed. "Well, there's numbing medicine in there right now. It'll last for a few hours. That should give you a good idea of how you'll feel when the anti-inflammatory kicks in. In about 4 days."

I thought about this. My pain was better, but not gone. So, I had a few more days before the real stuff kicked in. The pain wasn't yet over, and I was suspecting this wasn't going to work like I thought.

"Just don't push it for a few days, then we'll see how it works," he said.

"I might need to go to Denver on Monday," I said. "Is that driving safe?"

He nodded vigorously. "That's just fine. It would feel better if you left right now, before the numbing meds wear off," he laughed.

So, I left. The wooziness was returning. Ranger was in the waiting room, looking anxious and worried. He took my arm, whispering to me. "How are you? Are you okay?"

"It hurt," I said. He guided me to the car. Helped me inside so gently. He sat in the back seat behind me, as it was my Mom's car. On the way home, I filled him in on how it went. He was so worried about me.

He helped me settle into the recliner at home, with an ice pack. I started dozing off. My mom and sister left, so he helped me up the stairs to my room, where Daughter helped me to bed. I was asleep in no time. Ranger waited for another adult to get home, told them where I was and how I was doing, and went home to wait for me to call him later.

My oldest nephew's birthday was last night. They woke me for chili for dinner, which Daughter brought to me in bed. I made my way downstairs for ice cream sundaes and presents for him.

My mother let me sleep this morning and took Daughter to school. The pain is back, and I have a Xanax hangover. I slowly got ready for work, but had to make a stop at Wal-Mart on the way in. That did me in. The pain was terrible. I was exhausted. I went home.

I took the pain medicine that I hoped I wouldn't have to take again. I really hate that stuff.

But I'm in the waiting stage. Four days to see how this works. If the numbing medication was a "preview," then I don't hold much hope for this plan of action.

It's a discouraging day. I have one glimmer of light today. I get my car back. The last time I saw it was when it was crippled on the highway, having just saved us. I'll be so glad to have it back!

If I haven't said it before, I hate my rental car. I'm noticing as a toodle around town in it that I don't see anyone else driving a Hyundai Elantra. I think I know why!

3 comments:

Ronjazz said...

Get through it all, BJ. A day at a time, remember... I'll offer my best pain-removing wishes...:)

Gringa-n-Mexico said...

Blogget what can they do for you if they don't want to fuse the vertabre (you young thang) and if the shots don't do a good job? Were there other options? Can't we get a couple of hocky discs to slide in there? :P I hope you update us soon and I really hope it gets better.

Blogget Jones said...

Still waiting for the shots to kick in.... They don't *want* to do the surgery, but if the shots don't work, then there's not much choice.

I just hope they don't muck around with this!

Hockey discs! LOL!!!

:o) BJ