There I was on Thursday evening, no more than half-way through my scheduled three-mile run when I suddenly felt a pain in the right side of my neck and head. "No big deal", I cavalierly thought to myself, "probably just didn't drink enough water." Naturally, I continued running.
Run finished, the pain had intensified so I skipped stretching and headed for the showers. By the time I'd gotten home, it felt as though a hook had been slammed into the base of my skull on the right side and curved around my right eye. A happy camper I was not.
As you can see, I took my hair down after my shower. That was my one concession to the pain, the idea that a pony tail might be too much for my fragile head.
By the next day, Friday, I decided I had a pinched nerve and that it would feel better throughout the afternoon. When I was still in blinding pain at 10:00 a.m., however, I packed it in and left the office, stopping for a heating pad on my way home. The rest of the day was spent taking copious amounts of Advil and resting in the recliner with the heating pad draped around my neck, as I tried to get some work done.
Who do I think I am? I don't have a lamp on a side table!
I put up a valiant fight. I took Advil at various intervals and continued with the heat on my neck, regardless of the fact that they weren't helping. I did call my GP to see if I could get an appointment but it was too late in the day. So I texted my boss to see if he could call something in for me but he chided me for not giving the heat and anti-inflammatory drugs enough time and pointed out that I wouldn't be able to run the next day if he gave me something. "OK," I said, sadly, upset that I was going to have to power through the (excruciating) pain. Still, I felt confident that I'd be better by the next morning.
And I was, for the first ten minutes of wakefulness. You know how when you have a cold you often feel utterly shitty when you first wake up and then feel better throughout the day? Yeah, this is the opposite. Upon waking and getting out of bed on Saturday, I felt like this:
Look at me, all filled with sunshine and happiness. Ready to take on a new day with my non-hurty head and neck. The world was my oyster and I was ready to shuck the fuck out of it (that's what you do with oysters, right? Shuck them?) it was absolutely beautiful. And then, because it is a cruel and spiteful world in which I live, ten minutes went by and I became this:
The horrific pain in the right side of my neck and head were back. I spent a lot of time laying down and keeping my head still, texting my boss in hopes of convincing him that his advice was not working. He suggested I get a massage on my neck to loosen things up so I thought, "what the hell, why not give it a try." And so I scheduled a message for 10:30 and took a hot bath in hopes of relief. During the massage itself, I had the following thoughts:
1. We put a lot of trust into strangers because we believe them to be experts. This woman could break my neck at any given point and I'd just be laying here with my head in her hands, asking for it.
2. No wonder athletes have masseuses on staff! I always thought it was a luxury but this shit hurts like a mother fucker.
Mary, the very nice, caring, and empathetic masseur, provided me with a 30-minute neuromuscular massage and seemed genuinely concerned that I get relief. She was so sincere and kind that I actually lied and said I felt a little bit better just so as not to hurt her feelings. But the fact is, it didn't work. So eventually I caved in and had J take me to Urgent Care (not being able to turn my head to the left or right without pain makes it difficult to check my blind spots).
And oh my god, the physician I saw reminded me SO much of Angela Lansbury that I automatically trusted her.
Who wouldn't trust that?! If you've watched any Murder, She Wrote at all, you know that this is a woman whose word is to be trusted and heeded. She was super nice and rubbed my back when I burst into tears. Unfortunately, she couldn't do much because Urgent Care centers don't have the equipment needed for full diagnostics so she gave me an ice pack and a referral to the ER, which I'd really hoped to avoid, not just because of the $150 copay, but because ER physicians have a crap shoot approach to treating things. Once, when I was in a car accident, the doc was certain I had a meniscal tear in my knee all because I was using my old field hockey stick as a crutch. It didn't matter that I was 22 years old and hadn't played a game since the 8th grade (field hockey pick up games being hard to come by) or that the physical exam didn't show any signs of any meniscus problems. Turned out I had a bone bruise that went away on its own. That isn't to say that these aren't super qualified and expert physicians, it's just that they don't necessarily look for the same types of things that a specialist will because they just want to make sure you aren't in imminent risk of dying right there and then.
But I digress. Off to the neighborhood ER we went. I tried to convince J to just go home and let me call him because he was super busy but he only went home to eat something so that he could take his medicine (poor bastard has a throat infection and was studying for his PhD candidacy exam [which he is taking right this minute]). So, instead, he sat and waited whilst I had a CT scan with contrast (ever had one? the contrast makes you feel warm and, to quote the technician "like you've urinated on yourself", and she wasn't kidding). When that came back clear of any abnormalities, it was time for me to decide on whether or no to go through with the lumbar puncture, more commonly known as a spinal tap. WTF?!?!? you ask incredulously? So did I, but the hemophiliac-looking ER doc stated that he wanted to make certain that I didn't have any broken blood cells, evidence of a bleed/aneurysm missed on the CT scan. Having duly scared the shit out of me, I agreed. And so:
Ever had a spinal tap? Very weird. I was fortunate in that it didn't really hurt, just felt super bizarre when the needle went in and when he removed it. But I didn't really notice anything whilst he pulled out four vials of spinal fluid (all clear, I'm pleased to say). I'd had J leave the room because I wasn't sure how he'd react but a very sweet nurse came in who patted my head and checked on me regularly. Then it was over and we got to wait for a long time. Eventually, overtaken by a moment of insanity, I decided to leave AMA. It worked out fine since I signed a form and the hospital would have to call me if I needed to come back (which they haven't done) so at least I know it isn't an aneurysm.
Unfortunately, I still don't know what it actually is. I am on day six of pain and still have no idea what is going on. I saw my GP yesterday, and she called in some scripts for a muscle relaxer and pain patch (neither of which work) as well as a prescription for a cervical x-ray. She also wrote me a referral for a neurology consultation so I get to be an old lady all week! I had the x-ray today and they gave me a copy of the films on a disc so that I can bring it with me to the neurologist on Friday. I took a look and you know what? I could be perfectly fine or riddle with cancer; all I see are a bunch of bones and a goofy skull.
Fortunately, I am able to work from home so I am laying in bed like some old dowager, head resting on pillows, coffee at my side, and my laptop on my lap so that I can be prone whilst creating templates for a new database at work. I feel useless and bed-ridden because I can't keep my head up for very long or my neck yells at me like "hey mother fucker! Why don't you try carrying around twice your weight when you are feeling weak and sore?" and then I have to lay still until the headache passes. All in all, I'm feeling like the vigorous, hearty, vital young woman I am. Only trapped in the body of someone who had her neck stepped on by a cow.
No comments:
Post a Comment