busted

In the early hours of Sunday morning I tried to get up to go too the bathroom. Considering I’d been almost totally incapacitated for two days it was always going to be a challenge. I woke chef, and we tried to get my up in one sweeping fast manoeuvre. A grand plan indeed, it was just the execution of it which failed with the spectacularity of fireworks off the Sydney Harbour Bridge. And spectularity is so a word.

The sudden, seething, freezing, boiling, blinding yellow pain that ricocheted through my body at that precise moment is something I never ever want to experience again thank you very much. After screaming loud enough to summon apocalyptic horsemen I fell back on the bed stuck in a contorted position like those you see at Pompeii. My right leg, the one wracked with crippling sciatic pain for three months was in the air and bent hard at the knee. My left was bent but the foot at least on the bed.

Shock set in as my whole body shook, teeth chattering and a level of pain convincing me I was either going to die of shock or pass out. I was willing myself to faint but, again, my body wouldn’t comply.

It was time to call an ambulance.

I had posted a photo on instagram a few days earlier saying I felt I was heading towards something cataclysmic with my back and not in a “oh my go I’m cured!” Kind of way.

An adjustment by my chiropractor on Wednesday had sent me back to the worst my back had been. I don’t blame him, I think it was just the timing of adjusting T6 as the time bomb at L4 and L5 going off.

As each day passed my mobility lessened in perfect unison with my pain increasing. Panadeine, ibuprofen and the occasional endone were not even touching the sides and at the epicentre of all this was fear.

Fear trumps pain like an avalanche swallowing everything in its path – reason, logic and calm tumble over each other, clawing for oxygen, desperate for oxygen but instead tumbled over and over until they can fight no more.

The ambulance probably took 10 minutes but it may well have been an hour. If I’d had access to sharp implements the level of self harm to alleviate the pain would have been spectacular.

12.5mg of morphine and the green whistle of awesome (it contains an anaesthethic drug which you inhale and is the bomb) did little to stop the spasming in my right leg and so plans were made on how the get me out of the house as walking was not an option.

Hospital added endone, Valium and an injection of anti-inflammatory and still the spasming rolled on. Endone brought sleep which was welcome as I hadn’t has any that night and then there was 7.5mg of fentanyl (sp?) Which finally got me on my feet.

MTC

Onward.