Yesterday was another day when the hip felt like it was being pulled loose and my left leg was useless. Talk about vulnerable. I awoke a little sore, then BAM on the pain came when I stood up, causing my left leg to buckle and me to fall. I wiggled downstairs to the freezer to grab the well loved bag of frozen peas. After icing and pain medication I could stand for a couple minutes at a time, but then had to lay down again or I would fall. The leg muscles were in constant spasm following the path of the good old sciatic nerve. The kind of pain that elicits a scream akin to childbirth when trying to wiggle a toe. Seriously vulnerable. The dogs knew something was up, especially when at one point I was prone on the floor on their beds (remind me to wash their bedding again, it is due!) Hapi also knew something was wrong, as he was absolutely silent. Which means scared in Bird Language. I was too.
Come to find out that this issue is not related to RA after all, in the opinion of the doctor covering for my beloved primary care doc. This covering doctor is a rheumatologist which gives me more confidence in her opinion. It is a mechanical back issue and she has a treatment plan for it, yay. She thankfully called in one more round of pred after some serious begging on my part, and I go in for the MRI and spinal injections next week. I am scared to death of any needle in my back, but also know that I'm a tough cookie physically and can handle it. People deal with it all the time. And if it helps prevent another episode like the two I've had this week, it will be worth the pain.
Back to being vulnerable. When one is laying on stinky dog beds trying to muster the stillness to stop muscle spasms and sciatic nerve compression, hope can be temporarily lost. The sense of powerlessness of being immobilized by pain is nothing short of terrifying. The what-ifs flood into the brain at an alarming rate. What if this pain doesn't stop, too, like the RA? What if I can't get up? What if there are no answers, and I can't work at the job I love so much? What if I have to "get rid of" my family of pets because my body gives up on me? What if I can no longer do this life thing? What if, even just for today, I can't move? My babies need food and fresh water and clean cages and walks and...in the moment of pain fear takes over.
I am so grateful to my friends and the people in my life who make experiences like this manageable. I was online with my dear Loonies (you know who you are) who reminded me to breathe and not think about all the fear. My neighbor and good friend Lisa, who is in the middle of her own complex and stressful domestic struggles right now, said her day was clear and she could help me get to any appointment I needed to go to or run errands. My doctor's office was responsive and helpful. I now have a lovely pet sitter lined up for dogs and cats should there be a problem in the future. Getting there with forming the "emergency plan." Later in the day, after the prednisone kicked in and the pain literally disappeared, which still amazes me, my bestie Kathy called and we caught up for over an hour on the phone. While I told her how scared I am going into a new school year with this kind of unpredictable mess, she re-spun it to remind me that I am lucky that I wasn't in school right now -- I could be trying to write sub plans while in such agony. Talk about the right way to look at it -- teachers, you know about that "you can't be sick until you've left sub plans out" thing. Ugh.
So, I move on today hoping all those fears that make this tough chick feel so vulnerable stay locked in the closet. Feeling so scared has made me open to change and innovation, even if it means just boarding my birds for the first time ever, tonight. I have special plans for tonight, and am giving "pet coverage option #1" a run through. I've had parrots for eight years now, and have never boarded them for recreational purposes, so this is a good way to have them get used to sudden environmental change. I am still looking for a bird sitter for help when I can't move, but one step at a time. Getting closer. I can rest assured I have a great support network of friends that can help me through the mental gymnastics required of this crazy pain filled life, and I am not to prideful to ask.
The funny thing about all this is that while I was in my scary, fearful mental place, I was designing the large, red, fabric poppy in my head, too. Go figure. Art can save the world, or at least promote sanity in uncertain times.
What will you make today?