Milestones:
We've hit 50 posts and 1000 visits (probably mostly the same few people hundreds of times each!)
Setbacks:
As promised in my last entry, I did seek medical attention on Monday. As circumstance would have it, I likely would have gone anyway, as I was nearly unable to move when I awoke. Perhaps I overdid it on Sunday or perhaps the stars were just aligned against me. In any case, I called the doctor's office first thing to try to get in, but my doctor is on vacation this week and they couldn't get fit me in at all. They recommended that I go to the local Urgent Care center, so I called my Dad to make arrangements for him to watch Cat around noon so that Dan and I could go. Around 10:45 I started to attempt to get out of bed, with extremely limited success. I couldn't straighten my back enough to stand or walk. Attempts to do either were met with excruciating spasms. With Dan's help I managed to get from my bed to a rolling office chair and thus to the bathroom door by noon, whereupon Dad showed up for babysitting duty. With the help of both Dan and my Dad I attempted to cross the bathroom to use the facilities but was unable to get out of the chair-more spasms. They rolled me to the living room where we all sat for a while, Dad with Cat, me with ice on my back, waiting for things to unlock a bit so that I could move far enough to get out of the chair and down the stairs (for those not in the know, we live in a second floor apartment) and off to the doctor. Somewhere along the way I switched to a straight-backed dining room chair for better posture. It may have helped the posture but certainly not the pain. Through most of the day I supported much of my body weight on my arms, as allowing my back muscles to do much of the work was horrific. My mom arrived home a bit later and various suggestions were bandied about as to how to get me to the urgent care facility or the emergency room. One was to call an ambulance, which would likely have worked, but I personally would have found mortifying. We live in a very small town, with an emergency squad staffed by volunteers, most of whom I know, but not particularly well. As I didn't see this as a true "emergency," I was really holding this option out as a last possible measure. Someone suggested calling the doctor's office and trying to get them to prescribe me enough muscle relaxers to get me unlocked and out of the house to be seen elsewhere. We tried this and predictably got turned down. The doctor really wanted whoever saw me to be able to have a true gauge of how much pain I was in. Sensible, but irritating. I had a true gauge of how much pain I was in and was good and ready for it to stop. Ultimately we went with my suggestion: give me the drugs we had (2 hydrocodone), put a heating/massage pad on, use the TENS machine my aunt Lynn had lent me and hope to get loosened up enough for a trip down the stairs. We made it to the emergency room after a quick trip to our friend Gerry’s to drop off the baby—who immediately began to cry as though her heart would break. Gerry reported that she settled down pretty quickly after we left.
Once we got to the ER, Dan went in to get a wheelchair to bring me in as walking was next to impossible. When he brought it out, he apologized, as he was only able to get “the wide-load chair” and he thought I might be offended. Frankly, I didn’t give a damn so long as I didn’t have to attempt to walk. We got in pretty quickly, and several painful transfers from bed to chair to bed, four x-rays, two shots of morphine, one of toradol, a lortab and a valium later, they decided I was ready to go home. By this time Dan had already retrieved Cat from Gerry’s, as we figured we’d be leaving shortly and didn’t want to overwhelm him on his first babysitting experience. Dan wheeled me back out to the car—walking was still not really something I wanted to do much of. Our lovely nurse carried Cat out in her carseat and we all got settled in the car. We had to stop at the pharmacy to pick up the drugs the nice doctor prescribed for me. Basically, her directions were: take these muscle relaxers every eight hours, these painkillers every four and stay in bed for the next three days or so, except to go to the bathroom and follow up with your doctor ASAP.
Right, so got the drugs and staying in bed part down. Still couldn’t walk to go to the bathroom, so we improvised, leading to some of the most humbling experiences of my life thus far and increasing my love and admiration for my husband several fold.
Today marks the first day I’ve gotten out of bed by myself since Sunday. I managed to get up and visit our bathroom (ahhh—I’ve missed our lovely bathroom) before Dan and Cat even woke up. I also managed a lovely shower while they were out today, my first in days uncounted. I remember feeling grubby at the hospital on Monday, if that’s any indication. It was heavenly. I have been growing more than a little depressed in bed over the last few days with mostly only Bean (our cat) for company. Cat (our baby) visited occasionally, for a bottle or a snuggle and Dan was in every so often and took care of anything I might need, but I was lonely just the same. I slept a lot, mostly to kill time. I read a little, and computed a little but The Sims and the internet just aren’t the company they used to be. I longed to hold my baby, carry her around, change her when she needed to be changed, give her a bath, sit with her and Dan in the living room, playing games or listening to music or watching movies or a Yankee game.
I got to do some of those things today. I still can’t carry Cat or walk too much without pain, but I laid on the living room couch next to Cat in her swing and we watched a Yankee game together. She sat on my lap and we played with Bob and had a snuggle. Before she went to bed I gave her a bottle and we snuggled some more. It is amazing how I take so many of the things I do every day for granted.
In reflecting on this experience (and I’ve had lots of time to reflect!), several issues have surfaced. One is that I need to work with my body and my doctor to heal from this as quickly and completely as possible. I may explore the services of a chiropractor as well. Another is that I need to work to prevent this injury from reoccurring. Leaving my job will help, I suspect, as I do more lifting than the average person. I don’t plan to leave right away, but within the next year, anyway. I could also stand to lose some weight and get healthier. To that end, I plan to start eating a more sensible diet and working to get more exercise in my life. I need to take care of myself so that I am able to take care of and set a good example for my baby.
Another issue that arose with this injury was the need to stop breastfeeding. The medications I was on were not compatible with breastfeeding Cat safely, so we increased her formula intake and I tried the pump-and-dump method. There were two problems with this: my supply kept decreasing and it was nearly impossible to pump flat on my back in bed. As a consequence, I now have no milk and Cat is being fed solely on formula. I am sadder about this that I expected to be. I had actually been considering weaning her to formula after August anyway, as I transitioned into my new job, but I hated having the choice made for me. I have been doing some research into relactation and may try to bring my supply back, at least for a short time. If I could even feed her one time a day I would be happier, but I’d like to try to get back to nearly all times. Any hints or advice are appreciated.
If you've made it this far through my ramblings, thanks for listening and here’s a picture of Miss Baby Cat making a particularly amusing face: 
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