Tag Archives: pain

Iโ€™m on a roll…

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I forgot to mention this on the broken water line fiasco post, but my run of bad luck continues.

Yes, the fun just keeps on coming.

Torn meniscus in my right knee?

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No water or shower for three days?

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Rodents in open rebellion and probably surrounding the house as we speak?

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So it shouldn’t come as any surprise that just after the well was covered back up it started to rain…

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And our roof sprung a leak.

But wait, another sign someone has put an evil curse on yours truly?

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Birds are literally falling out of the sky in front of me.

Dismembered birds.

Pieces of birds.

Plop!

Right in front of me as I walked down the driveway to the mailbox this morning.

Whaaaaaat?

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Seriously.

Enough already!!

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When it rains, it pours.

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(And I sincerely hope it keeps raining today because that’s probably the only way I’m going to be able to take a shower.)

I woke up this morning, slowly and creaking because of my knee. The husband, who’s been underfoot since March … who hardly ever has to visit a client since working from home… left at 7:00am to visit a client.

And that’s when the proverbial waste product collided with the rotating blades.

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I heard a noise.

And since I’m an anal retentive woman, every noise must be investigated. I tracked the noise to our so filled with crap I never go down there anymore cellar. Stairs are not my friend right now, but I hobbled down in pain and discovered it was the water pump.

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(That’s the little blue doohickey to the right for the plumbing challenged among us.)

The water pump was running. For no reason. Cycling on and off every 15 seconds. This is not what you want a water pump to do. So I climbed back upstairs, slowly and with more than a few sound effects, to make sure nothing was turned on, running or leaking. Nothing was. I hobbled outside in the rain to make sure the outdoor faucet wasn’t left on. It wasn’t. Reaching the end of my diagnostic skills, I called our plumber.

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No. That is definitely not me.

Miracle of all miracles he answered the phone and walked me through a few steps to check the problem. The pump is only 5 years old, the heater a mere 3. Nothing seemed to be wrong inside but when he had me go outside and check the well…

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And I looked down inside..

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The cap to our well was crooked and water was positively bubbling out of it. (picture taken later, sorry… no bubbles) ((The bag of sand was my husband’s answer to the well house blowing over in high wind. He might come to regret this quick fix, please stay tuned.))

When I explained what I saw, the plumber told me to run back down to the water pump (which didn’t happen because, ya know… torn meniscus) and shut power off to the water pump, water heater and recirculator. (another waste of money gadget the husband had to have which doesn’t make a bit of difference).

So I shut power off to everything because he thinks one of our pipes has cracked or broken.

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Yeah. Big time. He doesn’t think it’s a pipe in the house, but rather one leading to the house… and that can’t be good.

Thankfully he’s coming this afternoon… so if you’re a person who prays? Please pray to the god of plumbing for a swift and easy fix for your dear friend River. And rest assured if there are any photos worth posting?

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I will.

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They give souvenirs now.

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My MRI was today… and after they made me strip naked and dress in scrub pants that were 3 sizes too small and double hospital johnnys that were 12 sizes too big, they did their thing on my knee.

A solid half hour of cacophony later, I got a souvenir.

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I know they give you ultrasound pictures of your baby in utero, but I’m not sure I’ll be having a look at all the fluid on River’s knee reveal party anytime soon.

And yes, though I’ve gotten the swelling down with elevation and ice packs, there’s still a lot of fluid where fluid shouldn’t be.

Good news? No torn ligaments and minimal damage to my MCL.

Yay!

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Bad news?

My meniscus tear is a deep root tear which is more serious, slower to heal and could require surgery.

Boo.

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But I did a zoom meeting with my orthopedist when we got home and she said we’ll try to avoid that.

More ice, more exercises and a cortisone shot next Friday to speed up healing so I can do more load bearing.

Load bearing? I know I’m a bit overweight, but that seems a trifle harsh.

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Real time update.

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At 8:00 this morning I was standing tall at the orthopedist’s office.

Okay, standing is a relative term… it was more like listing 45 degrees and hopping around like a rabbit on a 3 day bender.

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But you’d hop too if your right knee looked like this:

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A little swollen… no?

The good news –

My xrays came back clean, no fractures, no bone spurs and no signs of arthritis.

The bad news –

The doctor thinks I tore my meniscus when I stained the deck. Fluid and swelling set in, which weakened the joint. Then the other day when I stepped off the porch I probably damaged my ACL and possibly my MCL. Not good.

There’s no way to tell for sure until I have an MRI which they couldn’t schedule until next Thursday.

So a weeks worth of ice, elevation, ibuprofen and gentle range of motion exercises.

And whining.

Don’t forget the whining.

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Yes, there might be some of that kind as well.

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I rarely post in real time….

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But I’m in pain and quite cranky, so here goes.

Remember a while back I stained our back deck on my hands and knees? I do it every few years but this time it caught up with me. Thank you (not so) old age, you suck the big root.

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My knee had been stiff and sore for the last month but I’m tougher than I look and just went about my business.

Bad move. Very, very bad.

Yesterday I stepped off my kitchen porch and something snapped. Like a rubber band… and yes, I screamed. Did I mention we had a big storm the night before and had been without power for 10 hours by then?

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Good times.

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I hobbled back in the house and iced it down but holy hell it hurt. I couldn’t walk, couldn’t bend, couldn’t put any weight on it whatsoever. Spent a very uncomfortable and sleepless night, then woke up looking something like this:

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I didn’t dare attempt a shower, so I limped to the doctors office this morning with my radical bed head and frightened a few staff members along the way.

Hey, ya gotta take your jollies where you can.

Turns out the doctor they assigned me wasn’t really a doctor just a nurse practitioner. And when he put me on the table to start pulling and tugging my leg in different directions? I was ready to cram his stethoscope where the sun don’t shine.

After the exam and manipulation I was almost in tears. Which is when he told me to go across town for xrays and an appointment with an orthopedist because oh, by the way… he had no earthly idea what was wrong with me. As I made my way back to the waiting room… with the speed of a 200 year tortoise… I discovered my husband had decided now would be a good time to request his flu shot.

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Which we waited a good half hour for.

So.. by the time I got across town, had xrays and was ready for my orthopedist appt? We found out the orthopedist leaves at noon.

It was 12:05…. and I was not a happy camper.

Long story long, I have an appointment tomorrow morning at 8:00am and they think I either tore a ligament or ripped a tendon. Either way, it’s not good.

And oh yes, my devoted spouse who took the day off from work to care for me? He’s at our local pub having a late lunch. Me? I had to make my own.

Ain’t love grand?

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Because sometimes products are just…. wrong.

 

Have you ever seen something for sale and thought, WTH?

I do this quite often and feel it’s my duty to share.

The first strange item is called Q-flex.

 

 

 

And while I agree no one wants knots in their back, you have to admit this just looks…. wrong.

It seems to be 1/3 shepherd’s staff, 1/3 haying scythe, and 1/3 hook from your great grandfather’s old vaudeville act. Anyway you look at?

Wrong.

Next up? A tongue cleaner.

 

 

 

Holy crap! If your is turning brown and you can scrape that much disgusting residue from it’s surface?

Bad breath might not be the only malady you’re suffering.

A posture remedy is next in line.

 

 

Admit it, posture realignment wasn’t the first thing you thought of when you saw this was it?

So wrong.

This next item simply boggles my mind.

 

The magic of a corner piece? What kind of freak would buy this!

Everyone knows all the fudgy goodness is found in the middle.

Epically wrong.

And finally,  there’s a product that you’ve no doubt seen before.

 

 

This requires no explanation, and while I can’t personally attest to its wrongness…. I did find one of it’s reviews more than a little amusing.

 

 

Clearly this poor fellow had an issue.

Because when Taco Bell doesn’t end in the appropriate volcanic eruption? You know you need help.

 

 

 

Have Squatty, Will Travel.

Go west young man, and poop in peace.

So… this happened.

 

 

The husband mowing the grass over the septic tank?

Not blog worthy.

But the husband mowing the grass over the septic tank with one arm because he’s done some kind of damage to his left shoulder and the appendage is hanging uselessly?

 

 

Relatively blog worthy.

It took me a week of him alternating ice packs and heating pads. A week of him moaning, groaning and being perfectly miserable before I could get him to the doctors for an exam and an X-ray.

Thankfully nothing was broken or dislocated. They said it might be muscle trauma, might be a pinched nerve. In other words they have no idea.

A weeks worth of Prednisone has helped a bit, but just when we were making baby barn headway….

 

 

It seems we’ll be looking at this a while longer.

I’m seriously beginning to think that building is cursed.

Because Iโ€™m special.

 

And still have to be quiet all day while the husband is working from home.

As I said yesterday I’m ridiculously healthy …. despite having a toxic affinity for Cheetos and an exercise routine that wouldn’t make a sloth break a sweat.

 

 

So in 2014 when I was diagnosed with benign fibroid tumors, I elected not to break my 50 year surgery free streak and opted for a uterine artery embolization over a full abdominal hysterectomy. It’s an out patient procedure that takes about 30 minutes.

Of course… as we’ve established, I’m special.

 

 

I beg to differ Ryan Gosling, please read on.

That 30 minute procedure? Took over 3 hours for my special little self. I was fully awake when they injected the microscopic particles into my arteries to block the blood supply to the tumors and wasn’t supposed to feel a thing. While that may be true for the normal 30 minutes procedure? 2 hours in, I was feeling it so strongly they had to strap me down to keep me from squirming and make me chew dry OxyContin while flat on my back.

 

 

Well, I did…. and it was just as awful as it sounds. Not to mention completely useless for the pain. Since I’d never needed or taken serious pain killers before? The doctors thought small doses would suffice.

They were wrong…. so very, very wrong.

By the time I got back to the recovery room, where my tumors were literally dying from the lack of blood flow feeding them? I was in tears, as well as agony.

For 4 hours after this procedure you have to lie flat on your back and stay perfectly still. No movement at all… so the collagen plug they insert at the injection site in your groin can fully absorb and stop you from springing a leak.

 

 

During those 4 hours they gave me morphine. Then double morphine. Then Fentanyl. Then double Fentanyl. Nothing touched the pain, it was excruciating…. as if someone was twisting a red hot knife in my abdomen. The doctors couldn’t understand why the drugs weren’t working as they had given me the highest legal allowable dose.

“We’ve never had anyone who couldn’t feel the effects.” they kept telling me.

But I could have told them why….

It’s because I’m special.

 

 

And by special, I mean narcotic resistant. Of course it would have been nice to know this before my abdomen felt like a Samurai warrior with a nervous twitch was commiting Seppuku, but what can I say….

I must be Norwegian.

The only thing those drugs did was make me nauseated, which is no fun when you have to lie flat on your back and perfectly still.

And if that wasn’t bad enough? Four perfectly wretched hours later, a nurse came in to raise the top half of my bed to a sitting position to let me have something to drink. She no sooner turned around and left the room when I felt a twinge. And then something wet. By the time I pulled back the sheet… the bed was covered in blood and I was passing out.

Why?

Because I’m special….

And had popped the unpoppable collagen plug.

 

 

Alarms rang, lights flashed and 4 nurses ran in calling for help. Everything was going black as I bled out, but I remember them raising my legs, lowering my head and 6 people pushing down on my injection site with all their combined weight.

When they finally stopped the bleeding?

Another 4 hours of flat immobility with doctors stopping by to check on me and mumbling to each other on their way out, “We’ve never had anyone pop a collagen plug before.”

See?

Special.

Long story short… I spent a solid week in horrible pain and 6 months later learned it was all for nothing. I had to have a full abdominal hysterectomy anyway.

With no morphine or Fentanyl because the damn stuff doesn’t work on me.

 

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Lots was an understatement.

What else went wrong? Well, the electricity in my room went out and they gave me this.

 

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That’s a high tech nurse signaling device in case you were wondering.

They only give it to special people.

The definition of my kind of special?

Having them cut you open side to side and recuperating with nothing but Tylenol.

 

Yes.

Yes I am.

And that’s the kind of special I could do without.