7/17/14. The post where I start a new chapter.

7/17/14: had a little trouble sleeping last night, partially because my foot was at an 8 and partially in anticipation of my procedure later today.  I woke up this morning at closer to a 6.5 and did my slow walk, which went okay.  I had a continuing education class today away from the office, so it was already going to be an unusual day.

I was not supposed to eat anything after noon or drink anything after 4pm.  I knew meals and refreshments were being provided at my class and I was hoping for breakfast tacos, but alas, it was pastries for breakfast.  My last chance for food was lunch, which was typical conference fare - bland, overcooked lasagna, wilted salad, and breadsticks that appeared to have been salvaged from a dumpster behind Olive Garden.  I ate as much of it as I could tolerate, knowing I would be really hungry before my next meal opportunity.

After class, my patient, long-suffering husband took me to the doctor's office for the procedure.  For what seemed like a fairly simple procedure, they had quite a team assembled - my doctor, three nurses, and two representatives from the medical company that supplies the device.  The device reps did a great job of explaining the procedure to us and gave my patient, long-suffering husband some reading materials so he could read up on the device during the procedure.  It was a pretty short affair and I was awake, though slightly foggy, for the entire thing.  To be honest, it was not too bad and I spent much of it cutting up with the staff, as is my tendency.  I even convinced one of them to go out and get my phone so he could take a few pictures, since I would not be able to see what it looked like.

The doctor inserted two lead wires into the epidural space of my spine - one just above what I will indelicately call my "plumber's crack" and one several inches higher in my lower back.  Then the device rep attached the device to the wires and turned it on, increasing the intensity until I could feel it buzzing and then asking me where I felt it.  Using this method, they were able to reposition the lead wires as necessary until they were stimulating the areas where I have pain.  Once the wires were in place, they taped up my entire back to ensure it was sterile and then wheeled me into the recovery room to meet up with my patient, long-suffering husband, who by now was an expert on the device.

The device reps then set multiple programs on the stimulator so that I had plenty of options for pain relief and showed us how to use the device.  The rep who is permanently assigned to me said she would call me every day during the trial to check my progress and see if I needed assistance.  The goal for the week was to reduce my pain by 50% - for instance, from an 8 to a 4.  If that happens, the trial is considered a success and they can schedule a permanent implant.

There are a lot of restrictions for the next week.  Because the lead wires can easily move around, I have to limit bending, stretching, twisting, and lifting.  And because there is now an open conduit from the outside of my body into the epidural fluid in my spine, I have to be extremely careful about infection.  I will be taking an industrial strength antibiotic, I can't remove the dressing, and most importantly, no showers.  Yep, no showers.  I guess the water leak experience from earlier this week was a little preview of things to come.  Forget what I said about not going to work without showering.  At least I can wash my hair and give myself a careful sponge bath if I stay away from the dressing, so you needn't be too frightened about running into me.

I was famished when we got home, so my patient, long-suffering husband made me some delicious spaghetti.  Because he's awesome that way.  Made up for the unpleasant lunch experience.  So far, the experience has been strange and fascinating.  And while it is way too early to say for certain, so far it seems to be working.  My foot is completely confused and while I have some weird sensations, they seem to be doing a great job of masking the pain.  The insertion points of the lead wires are already really sore and they warned me it will be worse tomorrow.  I feel fairly certain I can tough it out, though.  These days I feel fairly certain I can tough just about anything out.  

Here are a few photos of the procedure for those who aren't too squeamish to look.  (Nothing too gory, I promise - other than my plumber's crack.)  Enjoy...

7/16/14. The post where there is no water.

7/16/14: last night, shortly before going to bed, we received an email from the president of our homeowners association with a subject line in all caps: EMERGENCY.  Uh oh, that doesn't sound like good news.  Turns out there was a massive water leak in a home near ours and the shut-off valve to their home broke when the plumber tried to shut it off.  This meant that the water to our entire block had to be shut off.  The email warned that it might be off all night.

Great.  Wish I had filled up my water glass earlier.  Or at least gone to the restroom.  I used the tiny bit of water left in my glass to take my medicine and went to bed, where I had my first good night of sleep in multiple days.  When my alarm went off this morning, I walked into the bathroom to get ready for work and turned on the sink faucet.  Nothing.  Apparently it was still not fixed.  Ironically, it was pouring rain and for a moment I considered taking a glass outside so I could get a drink.  Instead, I decided to get back in bed for a bit.  I wasn't going to be a hero today and try to work out in the storm, so I could get a little more sleep.

I checked the water every 15 minutes or so, with no luck.  Eventually we got another email saying the water would be back on a little later in the morning, so I told my employer I'd be in late.  I did as much as I could to get ready without the benefit of water (which, as I learned, is not much) and waited for it to come back on.  And waited.  And waited.  Around 11am we got another email saying the water leak was more serious than expected (not just to one house) and would take much of the afternoon to fix.  

At that point, I had a decision to make.  I could stay home all day, try to find an alternative place to shower, or go to work European-style.  In the interest of time, I used a jug of distilled water to wash my face and brush my teeth, slapped on some deodorant and makeup, and drove to the office.  Fortunately, I didn't have any meetings scheduled, so only my co-workers had to witness my condition.    There have been plenty of times during my 20 years with my employer where I have spent so many hours at work that I needed a second shower.  But this was the first time I'd ever gone to work without a first shower.  No one seemed to mind. Or even notice.  Not that I intend to try it again.  I didn't spend that much time in Europe.

The water finally came back on, in time for me to go home for the day.   My foot was slightly better today, but it's still hanging out in the 6.5-7 range.  I had a quiet evening and did a few last minute chores so I am ready for the stimulator trial tomorrow.  The procedure is late in the day, but I hope to be able to give everyone an update in the evening.  I'd appreciate good thoughts.  

7/15/14. The post where I try to be Alberto Contador.

7/15/14:  by bedtime last night, my foot was back up to an 8.  I decided to try the cream again at the maximum dose, and it took the edge off enough for me to get a few hours of uninterrupted sleep - hallelujah!  

When my alarm went off this morning, I wanted to turn it off and go back to sleep.  But I've been watching the Tour de France.  Last night, Alberto Contador, a previous tour winner and a favorite to win this year, had a freak accident.  Although he was injured and his bike was ruined, the doctors patched him up by the side of the road so he could get another bike and ride like a demon to try to catch up with the peloton.  Eventually it was clear he was too injured to finish and he had to abandon the race.  When they took him to the hospital for x-rays, they discovered he had a broken leg.  If Contador could ride with a broken leg, I could get out of bed and try to walk.

I started my walk and it seemed to be going okay.  In fact, I was able to find a comfortable gait and pick up the pace a little.  Suddenly, something hit my arm.  Was I dive-bombed by a bird? Then something else hit my arm.  Water.  It was raining, which was completely unexpected.  Luckily, I was near the house so I could give up and go home.  Then I remembered Contador.  If he could ride with a broken leg, I could walk in the rain.  So I picked up a baseball cap at home and finished my walk.

I got home with a little time to spare, so I decided to get on the trainer for awhile.  After a few minutes, I felt a shock wave of pain through my foot.  Hey, if Contador could ride with a broken leg, I could ride through this.  Then came shock wave #2.  No big deal, I can shake it off.  Then came shock wave #3...and I'm done.  Frankly, it wasn't that smart of Contador to ride with a broken leg.  And even he eventually figured out it was time to abandon the race.  It's important to know when to quit.  (Spoiler alert - the following clip contains comedic fake spurting blood): http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=zKhEw7nD9C4

The day went surprisingly well and by the afternoon I was at a 6.5.  I stopped by a friend's new house on the way home from work for a tour, drinks, and great conversation.  Hoping for a better night's sleep tonight.  And wishing Contador a good night's sleep, too.  I imagine racing on a bike with a broken leg can wear you out.

7/14/14. The post where it feels like Monday.

7/14/14: another fitful night, but I got up with the alarm this morning and got ready to take a walk.  It would not be a real walk like the ones I took last week, but I thought my foot might feel better with a little movement.  I took a few laps around the block at a very slow pace.  No luck.  I kept slowing down until I was moving at a glacial pace, but it still didn't feel any better.  By the time I gave up and went back inside, I felt like I was going to be sick to my stomach.  Whether it was because of the foot pain or nausea from the medication, I don't know, but I decided it would be a good idea to lie down for a bit.  

And it was.  I fell asleep for awhile and when I woke up, my stomach and my foot both felt slightly better.  Good enough for me to finish getting ready and go to work, at least.  As I was packing my lunch, I happened to look out the front window and saw a huge moving truck parked in front of my house, completely blocking my driveway.  Great.  I carefully considered my options: a) take out my frustration on the driver, or b) go back to bed again and give up on the day.  I settled on option "a" and finished packing my lunch.  I gathered my things and went out into the garage, ready to cause a scene.  Luckily for the driver, as my garage door was going up, he was closing the back door of the truck and getting into the driver's seat.  By the time I loaded my things in the car and started my engine, he was gone.  He probably has no idea how close he came to having a very bad day.

As I pulled out of the garage, I heard a beeping sound and suddenly remembered I was almost out of gas.  When I made the trip home from my parents' house on Friday, I knew I had just enough gas to make it.  My plan had been to fill up on the way to church Sunday, but my foot had other plans.  My gauge read 21 miles to empty - enough to easily make it to work.  After about 100 yards, it suddenly dropped to 19 miles, then 18.  This was not the day to take a chance, so I stopped to fill up.  

Eventually I made it to work, still in a lot of pain and feeling puny.  I wasn't very good company most of the day, but gradually started feeling better as the afternoon wore on.  This evening, I'm still in the 6.5-7 range, but I'm feeling a little more optimistic.  Is it Thursday yet?

7/13/14. The post where my foot has a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

7/13/14:  my foot felt pretty bad when I went to sleep last night, but I woke up in the middle of the night feeling much worse.  It's a little hard to describe - it was at about an 8, so It was not the worst I've been, but it was spread over a larger part of my foot, so it felt really miserable.  There was no way to get comfortable enough to get back to sleep.  The best position was to hang my foot completely off the bed out of the covers so that nothing was touching it, but even that didn't help very much.  Even the magic cream didn't make a difference. I have no idea what I could have done yesterday to cause it.

And to make matters worse, being awake in the middle of the night reminded me that the Cymbalta makes me nauseous.  The point of taking it at night is that you sleep through the worst of the nausea, but that only works if you are asleep.  So, as you can probably imagine, it was a long night.

This meant that most of my plans for today were out the window.  I stayed in bed most of the morning until hunger/nausea finally encouraged me to stumble down the stairs to get some lunch.  (While it may sound counter-intuitive, eating makes me feel less nauseous.)  I spent much of the afternoon lying on the couch watching the World Cup final game.  I rallied a little in the late afternoon and was able to do some chores and a little cooking.  I would like to have stayed in bed all day, but I know that next weekend will be shot because of my stimulator trial.  No stretching, no bending, no twisting, no lifting more than five pounds.  For a week.  Not sure how that is going to work, but I figured I'd better get as much done today as I could.

Hoping this will disappear as quickly as it appeared and tomorrow will be better.  Regardless, I just have to make it four more days to the stimulator trial. I feel increasingly like Charlie from the novel Flowers for Algernon.  For those of you who have not read it (or seen the movie based on the novel), if you are a serious literary nerd, you can find out more about it here (major spoiler alert): http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flowers_for_Algernon

Otherwise, I will try to give you a short synopsis.  It is a science fiction novel in which Charlie is a man with a lower than average IQ who works as a janitor in a science lab.  The scientists in the lab are conducting a surgical experiment to increase the intelligence of a mouse named Algernon.  It appears to be successful, so they perform the same surgery on Charlie.  His intelligence increases each day and he begins working in the lab with them.  However, they discover that the effects are only temporary and Algernon's intelligence begins to decrease again each day, eventually becoming even lower than it was prior to the surgery.  Charlie begins desperately researching to find the error in the experiment before he meets the same fate as Algernon.

Feeling better for awhile has made it harder to deal with bad days like today.  While I am excited about the stimulator trial, I am trying not to get my hopes up too much.  The stimulator has a 50% success rate and even if it works, it comes with its own set of issues.  I will take it easy for the next few days and see how I do.  I wish there were a Wikipedia synopsis for my story so I could find out how it ends, but I guess I'll just have to wait it out.  And so will you.

  

7/12/14. The post where I tell you about my visit.

7/12/14: made it back home last night.  I had a great time with my family.  In fact, if it weren't for the reason for my visit and missing my patient, long-suffering husband, it would have been perfect.

We spent most of the day Wednesday at the cancer center for Mom's chemotherapy.  When we got home, my brother and sister-by-love brought over a delicious meal they had prepared and we had a nice family dinner with them and my aunt.  

Thursday was an event-filled but relaxing day.  Mom and I took a walk in the morning.  While I don't think she agreed, I though she looked quite glamorous in her dark sunglasses and large straw hat.  "Please, no autographs today. Can't you see I want to be left alone?"  The rest of the morning was spent watching (or more accurately, critiquing) Cupcake Wars and shouting out answers while watching Jeopardy.  My afternoon activities might make it appear that I broke my diet promise - I bought two new pairs of shoes and made an apple pie.  Appearances can be deceiving, though.  The shoes and the pie were both for Mom.  It was actually very satisfying to be able to scratch my shoe shopping and baking itches without paying for them, either literally or figuratively.  Thursday evening, Daddy and I teamed up to make dinner and had the family over again.  Another very pleasant evening, filled with fun stories.  Some of the concoctions in Mom's treatments make it difficult for her to sleep the first day or two, so we watched a late night movie before going to bed.

We took another stroll Friday morning before returning to the cancer center to have her pump disconnected.  It was quite busy and we were there much longer than expected.  Afterward, we went out for a late lunch to celebrate.  She is officially half-way done with chemo.  Six treatments down, six more to go.  She's been a real champ throughout this ordeal, enduring it with grace, dignity, and most importantly, humor.  And while Daddy's always been my hero, he has officially achieved superhero status.  How they have handled this is a testament to their individual character as well as the strength of their relationship.  At age 45, I am still learning important life lessons from them every day.  

I left late Friday afternoon and made the longer-than-usual drive home, managing to hit rush-hour traffic in about three cities.  I went out for a late dinner with my patient, long-suffering husband to catch up on our respective weeks before falling into bed, exhausted.  I woke up this morning feeling pretty refreshed after a long sleep.  

Things have not been the same with my foot since my gardening incident last week.  I've also amped up my exercise since that time, which could be contributing to it, but I haven't seen a 4 in a while. It's been mostly 5-7 this week, with a couple of very brief forays into 8 territory.  I'm not too concerned about it right now, because my spinal cord stimulator trial starts Thursday.  If it works, it should clear things up pretty quickly.  If it doesn't work, well...things will get significantly more complicated.  No point in worrying about it right now.  I have more important things to worry about.  Like what shoes I am going to buy when we reach our goal.  My friend is a little ahead of me, but I managed to lose 1.2 pounds the first week.  (Yes, I am measuring it down to tenths of a pound. I need all the help I can get.)  Guess I should be looking for fall shoes.  

7/8/14. The post where my best intentions go awry.

7/8/14: woke up feeling a little better - more like a 6, which was good since I had a long day ahead.  I took my walk (minus the big hill) and went to work.  

I decided to take my car in for a professional car wash for the first time in way too long.  The first time I got in it after our trip, I noticed that it didn't smell very good.  And the windshield and tires were filthy.  Running it through the car wash at the gas station periodically just wasn't doing the trick.  I wouldn't mind if it were just me, but I was going to be driving Mom around and I wanted it to be presentable.  It looked great when they finished and I resolved to take it to the pros more often.

After work, I packed up my car, said a slightly weepy goodbye to my patient, long-suffering husband, and got on the road.  I had leftover cupcakes and decided to take some with me.  I knew Mom and Dad would appreciate them, just like they appreciated my vacation bible school art projects and my grade school guitar recitals.  I packed them carefully in a sealable container made specifically for cupcakes (yes, such a thing exists) to be sure they made it safely.

There is a lot of construction on the highway between my home and my parents' home, which has been the case for the entire 24 years since I moved away from my hometown, and probably will be the case forever.  Since you never know where the slowdowns, accidents, and lane closures will be, I have a few landmarks where I check in so they will know when to expect me.  The last check in is after all the construction and usually about an hour away from their house.

My trip was generally uneventful.  There were a few lane closures for construction, but traffic was light, so it didn't slow things down too much.  As I should have expected since I was driving at sundown, my freshly cleaned windshield became a final resting place for an appalling number of bugs.  No problem - I'd just squirt some wiper fluid on it and let the wipers get to work.  As the wipers streaked across the windshield I remembered...oh, yeah...I was going to replace the wipers because they were no longer fit for their intended purpose.  Now I had a huge, gummy, streaky paste of insect parts where my windshield used to be.  Kind of like rubbing Vaseline on your glasses. 

I called at my last check in spot and gave my parents a definitive arrival time.  And I would have made it, too, if it weren't for the unexpected lane closures 20 minutes from their house.  From three lanes down to one, just as you enter a large metropolitan area.  The most cars I'd seen on the entire three-hour drive, and apparently they were all going to the same place.  So much for my definitive arrival time.

Even with all the high speed driving and sudden construction-related stops, the cupcakes did fine, thanks to the handy carrier.  When I finally pulled into my parents' driveway, I was pleasantly surprised to see they hadn't moved so much as a millimeter.  Feeling relieved, I pulled them out of the car.  And caught the carrier on the passenger seat, knocking it sideways and spilling the cupcakes into a big, jumbled mess.  Sigh.

So, to recap: I showed up to my parents' house late, with a filthy windshield and a messy pile of what used to be cupcakes.  All I was missing was a macaroni necklace and the world's slowest out-of-tune version of "When the Saints Go Marching In."  They were still happy to see me, because parents are awesome that way.   Still, I could have saved myself a lot of time and effort and had the same result.  Oh well, it's the thought that counts, right?  Right???