Give Me Novocaine

In a few days, it will be a year since I have been having spine/back/hip issues.  One whole fucking year.  The only positive that has come out of this whole experience has been finding yoga, and making it such a huge part of my life.  Otherwise, I miss feeling like I can move my body however I want.  To feel like I need to think through activities before saying “sure” or “let’s go” is not something I have experience with.

After much acupuncture, a cortisone shot, and many many pain pills and creams, I decided to switch doctors.  The “Pain Management Specialist” I was seeing was totally unhelpful.  Every visit was “keep icing it.” 

Dude! I am going to become a human popsicle if I keep icing my back.  I was making a pretty regular routine of putting an ice pack in the back of my pants and holding it in place with the elastic waistband of my sweatpants.  I kept it there until the right side of my butt was numb and then I took it out.   Not a habit I want to get used to.

The new doctor  I started seeing recently is an Orthopedic Surgeon.  He recommended a nerve test which I experienced this week.  What fun! 

For this test, I had to lay down in bright blue, paper shorts, while the doctor attached electronic sensors with cords attached to them to my feet and legs.  “You ready to get shocked?” he asked.

“No.  Not at all,” I said.

He laughed.  And I did not. 

“Well at least your hair is already frizzy.”

Dick.

Then he took a contraption that looked like a Wii remote with two large prongs that distributed the zaps.  The shocks weren’t bad.  They made my legs and feet move without my control.  Then he moved to the second part.

“I am sure I mentioned the next part of the test with the needles.”

My eyes bulged.  He certainly DID NOT!

I had to lay face down and he stuck a needle into my muscles.  I had to have the muscle relaxed and then flexed.  The idea is to see if my muscles are working more than they should, to compensate for the injury.  He stuck the needle in my calf, thigh and then my butt.  Yes, I had to flex my butt. 

He left the room and came back to discuss.  He said, “there was a finding.” There was a muscle making up for the injury in my spine and the best solution was surgery.

“Would you be able to have surgery this summer,” he asked.

I started crying.  Like, little-girl-dropped-her-ice-cream-crying.  He was asking me questions and all I could do was use hand gestures and shake my head.   He got up and gave me gauze to wipe my eyes (he didn’t have tissues which makes me think most people don’t act like a crazy toddler when they are in this office).  He told me the surgery is minor and I would be able to be as active as I was before the injury. 

I am taking some time to ponder this idea of surgery.  In the meantime, more cortisone and trying physical therapy.  He walked me out and carried my backpack (again, girl who dropped her ice cream) and told me to email him with questions, updates or anything else.  Part of me wonders if I should shoot him over a quick email: “Sorry I burst into tears after you poked my butt” . . .wait, that doesn’t sound right.

Anyway, denial is considered toxic.  One should address situations directly.  Face things head on.   Well, for right now, denial is sweet.  I choose to enjoy a short time of addressing the situation by ignoring its existence.  For the rest of the week, I shall pretend I am perfectly content leading a low-impact life and find comfort in yoga, sunshine and vodka.

And for all those reading this, enjoy your own type of denial with the perfect playlist: