co·nun·drum
kəˈnəndrəm
noun
- 1.a confusing and difficult problem or question.
2/3/14: Made it through a really fun Super Bowl party relatively unscathed, although the pain ramped up after I got into bed. Woke up feeling pretty good this morning - 6.5, maybe even 6. Which means it must be time for PT.
We concentrated on core strengthening again today. The theory is that if the rest of my body is as well-aligned as possible, there is less chance of inflaming my foot, which means less chance of aggravating my RSD. Even using the arm stationary bike (I've got to learn the real name of that thing at some point) is not without challenges, though. After using it for ten minutes while resting my feet on the foot rests, the bottom of my toe and the ball of my foot were purple/black. My PT was impressed. After a few minutes on the table with a pillow under it, the color went away, but she spent the rest of the hour suspiciously eying the bottom of my foot.
As expected, the pain is increased tonight after an hour of PT (but not as bad as last time). So, why do it? Because mobility is a good thing, even if it doesn't feel like it right now. Unchecked RSD can eventually cause atrophy and permanent damage in the affected area. If that's the case, why not exercise my foot more? Because until the nerves are under control, too much stress on the foot can aggravate the RSD, potentially causing exactly the kind of permanent damage the PT is intended to avoid. The trick is doing just enough, but not too much, I guess.
Just one of the many conundrums associated with this disorder. Like keeping the pain in check. It hurts more to have anything touching my foot, so I try to sleep with my foot outside the covers and hanging off the bed. Except, guess what? It also hurts more when my foot is cold. So nights have become an intricate dance - foot out, foot in, covers on, covers off, right side, left side, on my back. It also feels better if I keep my foot elevated and immobile. Except when it doesn't.
Even the instructions for "coping" with RSD have become a conundrum, at least for me. Live as normally as possible. Get plenty of rest and know your limits. Anyone who knows me knows I can't do both. Another difficult balancing act.
The good news (I hope) is that I have a nerve block tomorrow. A nerve block is an injection of medication that should numb the nerves to the affected area. The injection won't be directly into my spine, but into a group of nerves (ganglion, for those of you with medical degrees or who have had biology in the last ten years) that run beside the spine. As usual, this is my non-medical definition based on listening to my doctor and reading online resources, so don't use my answer on a final exam. It is being done as a "twilight" procedure, so I won't be completely out, but I shouldn't remember it.
I am not supposed to eat for six hours before the procedure. I'm already planning a spectacular breakfast in place of my usual protein shake. (The fact that I am concerned about going six hours without eating might explain why most of my clothes don't fit right now.) I am supposed to rest the next day, but should be able to resume normal activities by Thursday.
I'm hoping for a big improvement, although my patient, long-suffering husband is doing his best to manage my expectations. There is already a second nerve block scheduled two weeks after the first one, on my doctor's recommendation, so it seems doubtful that one will be enough. I'm doing my best to be cautiously optimistic.
Think good thoughts tomorrow afternoon and I'll check in when I am coherent again. Once this is all over, there's only one conundrum I want to consider:
The good news (I hope) is that I have a nerve block tomorrow. A nerve block is an injection of medication that should numb the nerves to the affected area. The injection won't be directly into my spine, but into a group of nerves (ganglion, for those of you with medical degrees or who have had biology in the last ten years) that run beside the spine. As usual, this is my non-medical definition based on listening to my doctor and reading online resources, so don't use my answer on a final exam. It is being done as a "twilight" procedure, so I won't be completely out, but I shouldn't remember it.
I am not supposed to eat for six hours before the procedure. I'm already planning a spectacular breakfast in place of my usual protein shake. (The fact that I am concerned about going six hours without eating might explain why most of my clothes don't fit right now.) I am supposed to rest the next day, but should be able to resume normal activities by Thursday.
I'm hoping for a big improvement, although my patient, long-suffering husband is doing his best to manage my expectations. There is already a second nerve block scheduled two weeks after the first one, on my doctor's recommendation, so it seems doubtful that one will be enough. I'm doing my best to be cautiously optimistic.
Think good thoughts tomorrow afternoon and I'll check in when I am coherent again. Once this is all over, there's only one conundrum I want to consider:
No comments:
Post a Comment