Stepping Out

I love to read magazines.  With our six months travel lifestyle, I don't subscribe to magazines; I read OLD magazines.  Sometimes they're a few months old; sometimes they're years old.  Incessant reading has taught me how hard it is to be original.  Articles in magazines women favor are like teacher meetings.  There's not much new under the sun. 

I took up learning how to embroider to have something to do while people, who were tired of children, had moved 'up' in the school system and gave teacher in-service days' lectures on teaching/discipline techniques.  What a yawn.  After the first two years of this annual torture, they didn't have anything new or original to say.  Embroidery helped keep me AWAKE.  (My principal quickly learned to prefer this activity to me being 'creative' during these meetings.)

I have been thinking about trying new things lately.  What a process!  Deciding to try something new is like fighting all the demons inside yourself.  Looking back, embroidery didn't start as a way to relieve the tedium of teacher meetings - that was a byproduct.  It started because I admired someone else's needlework.  She encouraged me to try it.  Her encouragement freed me to buy an embroidery kit which used only one type of stitch.  I goodwilled those pillow cases just last year!  I was hooked.  Then came YEARS of filling in pictures with thread;  it was like paint by numbers.  (People admire my satin stitches; it's because of all that practice.)  It took me years to step out and start creating my own designs. 

Getting my foot screwed up with a bad surgery and a dissolving joint was an impetus for creation.  There were months spent being only able to walk 50 feet in a day.  Creating saved me.  What a struggle those two years were:  Lost the job I loved; the school I loved closed, and I lost the ability to walk.  The anger almost devoured me.  Creativity seemed EASY, after all that.  It was still a couple of more years before I could admit I was an artist.  Stepping out of your comfort zone is not for the faint of heart.

Sometimes we think creativity is only one thing.  "I'm not creative; I can't draw."  "I can't sew."  "I can't craft."  "I can't write."  "I have no sense of style."  See the common thread?  You always limit yourself with 'I can't'.

Creativity is all about enjoyment.  I just created the most hideous embroidery piece because I don't know how to draw much less draw to scale.  San Diego was on the ocean, and I love gulls.  That was the basis for the idea of the piece.  I knew the birds were wrong, but this piece just kept getting more and more fun to make.  Here's the result.  You be the
judge.  My 2 year old great-nephew is getting this as a pillow for his room.  I'm pretty sure he won't care about the scale/perspective problem of the flying gulls.

Sometimes for me creativity is about challenge.  It's very hard to stretch yourself.  Life here in the dollhouse in Sun City bores me.  It's very easy to do the very same thing day after day, month after month.  This year I'm challenging myself to step out in  Sun City in the ways I embrace when we travel.  Here's my first challenge of the new year:  I'm taking a real college class at the local community college.  Is it Yale?  Well, no, but it's a class I've wanted to take for over 40 years, so I'm pretty sure it's going to be fun.

I'm taking Art History:  Renaissance to Contemporary Art.  There are so many gaps in my knowledge for someone who worships museums.  I'm also a little curious to count how many pieces of art the professor will show via power point (I almost said 'slides') which I've actually seen in person.  I will also be around YOUNG PEOPLE, and hopefully making some new friends.  I can hardly wait! 

Sometimes when you 'step out' you get an unlooked for reward.  After eight years in New Orleans, I still call that the lagniappe.The class is only costing me $149 (that includes the tuition and fees).  Good grief - it's practically free!  I got the senior rate for tuition. The book costs almost as much as the tuition, and I even bought it used on Ebay. 

This winter and spring, I'm hoping to write blog adventures in the same vein I write during the travel months.  Hope you're ready, and hope I am too. 

Oh, Boy, It's the Holidays!

The holidays are upon us!  All young women I know are saying, NO, NO, NOT YET.  One of the smooth spots of being post 65 w/o grandchildren is there are almost no presents to buy, and I can shove off all the cooking on the younger generation.  Sweeeeeeeet!  (This year I'm going to have to do SOMETHING cooking wise for Thanksgiving, but I consider that to be an easy meal.  I'm even contemplating making a pie.)

Looking back twenty years, I marvel at how many plates I was constantly twirling on the end of slender sticks.  Now, that I only have about three plates twirling, oh, hey, let's be real - all my plates are lying securely on a waist high table, I can handle them with ease.  So, another holiday season starts.

Here's a list of fun stuff to remember to do because each holiday may be your last one.  (Service Announcement from 'The Grim Reaper') 

1)  If you don't feel like cooking the big, traditional holiday dinner, DON'T.  (Imagine the hours you'd recover, and your loved ones could stop holding their collectively breaths since you're always in such a bad mood at the end of the big day when you've exhausted yourself shopping, preparing and cooking.)  Yes, I know the idea can seem like heresy, but try it for one of the big holiday meals for just ONE year.  Make a crockpot meal.  Lay out a big sandwich tray.  If you can't shed both meals (Thanksgiving, Christmas), then at least try shaking up one of them.  Finally, if you get the, "Mom, if you don't cook, it won't be the same line, then offer to supervise rather than cook.  Stick to your guns.)

2)  Give presents all year long.  Give trinkets at Christmas.  I like calendars, cool greeting cards, books, puzzles, or games.  Here's the way I look at it:  The less money you spend at Christmas on 'presents' means the more money you can spend on charitable giving.  So many reputable charities count on holiday giving - be a giver of important stuff. 

3)  Remember someone who has lost a love one in the past year.  Acknowledgment of the loss at the first holiday season can be so appreciated.  (Yes, yes, yes, I know, you don't know what to say, etc., etc., etc.  So, buy a freakin' 'thinking of you' card, sign it and mail it.  Any idiot can do that.)

4)  Create a new tradition.  (New stuff doesn't always 'stick', but keep trying . Something will catch hold.  At the very least, it will keep the holiday family time from being so predictable.)

5)  Enjoy Thanksgiving more.  It disturbs me that Thanksgiving is being slowly eliminated by commercial greed.  This is a holiday about the really, really important stuff without the minefields of religion or the expectation of buying, buying, buying.  Don't go shopping on turkey day.  The stores are open long enough.  Nobody needs to start Christmas shopping on Thanksgiving Day.  Remember:  All the ads you are going to be flooded with are designed to psychologically snare you.   

6)  Get an Advent Calendar.  I send a whole bunch of Jacquie Lawson calendars out every year, and I guarantee the adults who receive them enjoy them just as much as the kids.  (For the clueless:  Advent is a season in the Christian church that corresponds to the Christmas season.  However, secular Advent Calendars are all about opening up something fun each day from December 1st to December 25th.  There are paper versions where you pry up a paper window to reveal a new picture, or felt versions with pockets for each day, or electronic versions.  They are all really fun.)

7)  Rethink Christmas cards.  Who do you really, really want to send a greeting to?  Just do those people.  It doesn't have to be hard.  Electronic works!  I'm a big fan of electronic cards because you don't have to particularly plan ahead.  You can batch mail for the cost of a few electrons.  That said,  I do love the spirit of snail mail Christmas cards, and I send out way, way, way too many.  However, it's not a contest.  You don't get a brownie badge for sending out 100 or more cards.  (And, yes, at one time, I actually did that.)  What I have discovered is it's so heartwarming to have cards as decorations around your house - especially if you travel away at Christmas.

8)  Nobody likes fruitcake or the fruit of the month club.  Enough said.

9)  Get your Christmas music in your car and play it from the day after Thanksgiving until Christmas.  Your mood will improve.  I look forward to it every year.  Of course, I'm a Christmas carol nut - although, I must say, the Great Christmas Carol Quiz blog was super popular last year.  If you have small children,  car Christmas carols are a great way to introduce cultural icons. (Right, Sarah?)

10) Finally, in midst of all the hubbub of home, office, friends, and obligations,  spend two minutes each day of the 'season' being mindfully grateful for all your many blessings.       

Round Five....Good News

Since I don't think it's fair to hold people in suspense.......  The news from Round Five is GOOD.  Well, not GOOD exactly, but recovery  is finally beginning to make sense.  Pain levels have dropped once more - unless I do something stupid like trying to go more than one place during a day.

First, this is sort of a public service announcement.  If you don't know it, all antibiotics are not these easily taken, clears up the ______________ in a week kind.  Since I google everything I take prior to taking it, I was more than alarmed to discover the two antibiotics the post operative PA prescribed can actually be quite dangerous if not taken properly.  One of them is a known cause of a very serious intestinal infection called C-def.  It's ironical an antibiotic which is supposed to clear up infection can actually cause one.  Clindamycin is so efficient at eradicating bacteria that it can scrub your gut of ALL your bacteria - even the helpful kind, and thus you develop an infection (C-def) because of the antibiotic.  Of course the post operative people didn't tell me ANY of this.

The reason the recovery is finally beginning to make sense is because I went to my family doctor for my annual physical.  He's going to take over the care of the infected incision.  He immediately put me on a SECOND probiotic each day.  (I'd already started one a day on the advice of my personal pharmacist.)  He carefully made me understand the importance of exact dosage times, and FOOD every single time I take one of the antibiotic doses.  His best guess is the infection will be gone by Monday the 13th of November, but not the inflammation near the incision which is still extremely painful.  It's so painful that I really can't wear anything comfortably except yoga pants - what a fashion statement. 

Jan and the Wonderful Walker

Next, he told me exactly how the recovery is going to go:  The next twelve to sixteen weeks will be daily, constant pain - usually low level (3/4).  Intermittent pain for the next six to eight months.  After that numbness will gradually lessen.  (My entire left leg is pretty numb down the side and front all the way to the ankle.)  In one year, I will probably feel back to normal if I do everything right - like no bending, twisting or lifting for two to three months after surgery, diligently going physical therapy, and slowly restarting an exercise program.  Sigh......

The bad news is the Doc cancelled the Thanksgiving trip to New York, and when I quizzed him about the Christmas cruise, his answer was a pair of crossed fingers.  I told  him I'm going on the cruise if I have to wheelchair it!  On the positive side, Southwest REFUNDED MY $1000 WORTH OF THANKSGIVING PLANE TICKETS TO AND FROM NEW YORK!  And people wonder why I always try to fly SW.  And, I know they can resell them for a much higher price than I paid, but, still - it's the principal of customer service Southwest practices.

I'm able to walk pretty normally around the house, but I never leave it without my trusty wheels.  Yes, that black and white monstrosity is my bag addition to carry stuff.  The real purpose of the walker is not to support me when I'm walking.  Instead, it's a mnemonic aid:  Turn your body, don't twist it.  Don't pick up anything you can't reach without bending over, and don't carry anything more than a pound or two in your hands (throws your body 'off').  What a complete pain. 

Ask Drake, or should I say, "Mr. Fetch-It".  Just imagine how difficult and frustrating your day is when you can't open a cabinet below your waist, use a wall socket, step your legs into your panties and pants, bend over to pick up anything off the floor, struggle to get in and out of the car, and my personal favorite: put on your own shoes and sox.  I tell you what; Drake's seriously thinking about putting me on the Waiver Wire.  He REALLY hates cooking by committee because I simply won't accept three months of fast food. 

This is a wonderful walker wheelie

Ok, so what's good?  Just knowing what I'm really facing has taken a lot of anxiety away.  I've noticed the pain is perceptively lessened since my Doc laid out a time table for me.  I have confidence that he and his 'peeps' are going to be responsive in getting this infection gone and the incision healed up.  (Oh, I forgot, I have to see a wound care specialist if the infection isn't gone after completing the two antibiotics.)

Finally, I promise the next blog will be something fun or interesting.  I'm tired of this whole surgery/pain/ gig, and I expect everyone else is too.  I want to thank everyone who sent me a card, texted me, called me, or e-carded me.  A special shout out to the person who has written me every single day since this ordeal started.  (I'm pretty sure she's earned some more stars in her heavenly crown.)   I've also received flowers, meals, and entertainment from friends and family.  My soft spot in the get well card category is for the 20 line letter from one of my second grader friends.  Let's just say it was a very interesting read.  It's so true when you're feeling punk that a 'good mail' day can really give you a lift.

Drake and I are feeling like 'when it rains, it pours' - This week my dentist discovered I need a crown, and Drake found out during his routine eye exam that he needs a minor eye surgery - he's developed a 'film' under his cataract lens.  It's a 2 minute procedure to correct, and he doesn't even need a driver to and from. 

That's just typical stuff that happens to your body post age 65.  I don't think anyone handed out a coupon allowing one to live forever.  However, life's highway seems to be on the downhill slide for us right now.  Ahhh, but this too will pass.  The real question is how graceful will I be while we are passing out from under this thunderstorm.     

Round Four: And, Next..... a New Wrinkle, and It's not Good

It's unanimous.  I'm not having the normal reaction to this back surgery.  Here's a quick recap:  8+ pain sends me to the ER; and two days later emergency back surgery on Saturday, September 30th to repair two problems.  Three days post-surgery, I'm suddenly dealing with 7+ nerve pain!  What the F**K!  When we FINALLY get the post-op team to return our calls, they prescribe a steroid pack to work on the nerve inflammation which is still flaring. 

The pain problems stem from the surgeon having to move aside an entire nerve bundle and then move it back.  Those are the nerves giving me fits.  Back to the recap:  7+ pain returns as soon as I finish the 'steroid pack'.  Then, at the appointment to take out the stitches, (which the office 'lost', and I had to be worked in), instead of being doing high fives all around, I'm still experiencing excruciating nerve pain and trying to talk to the PA about my concerns.  He literally says, "We need to move this along.  I'm an hour behind." He then takes out the stitches,  writes scripts for mega narcotics - morphine plus oxycodone taken together.  (No instructions about how to handle narcotic constipation.)  During that appointment, the PA says, 'that incision might be infected' as he's taking out the stitches, but does nothing.  He say nothing and does nothing about the contact rash in the shape of the post surgery bandage.

Five days later, I'm calling the post operative 'team' again, and again; they won't return my calls.  My incision is hurting and I'm getting worried about the 7+ pain reoccurring when the mega narcotics are finished - which, of course, will happen over the weekend.  On my own, (everything has been on my own in this deal), I reduce the narcotics dosage, and I'm pleased the 7+ pain isn't occurring on the massively reduced dosage. 

Six days after the stitches were taken out, I go to the physical therapist for evaluation to start my six pt sessions.  As she's assessing my pain level, I mention that I'm having pain in my hip and leg and also in the incision.  She says, "Can I look at the incision?  I can put new steri strips on it. " I'm thinking, "What's happening here?  Someone is being proactive.  Gosh, I hope I don't faint."  Next thing I know, she's saying, "No wonder you're hurting, this incision is infected.  I'm calling your surgeon's office."  I said, "Good luck.  Maybe they'll take your call."  She also informs me that I have a contact rash reaction to the adhesive in the original bandage, and she tells me how to treat this.

Sure enough, wow, I suddenly have not one but two prescribed antibiotic prescriptions to be started immediately, and even more astonishing, I have an appointment the very next day with the PA who dropped the ball when the incision was only mildly infected.

The upshot is everyone involved in my post-op care KNOWS AND HAS SAID OUT LOUD I'm not having a normal reaction to the surgery.  I think I'm the only one who is not surprised.  No matter how loudly I say:  I DON'T HEAL FAST, AND I HAVE TROUBLE AFTER SURGERY, no one seems to hear me.  Here's an example:  Last February after my breast surgery, the breast surgeon's PA said, "Oh, you'll be completely healed in 30 days."  When I said, "No, that's not what is going to happen.".  I got the patronizing smirk, and smug comment of, "Oh, I think you will."  90 days later my breast finally stopped hurting.

The difference with this surgery is the shocking amount and severity of the post operative pain.  I've been given no help or guidance by the post surgery team  with the super pain  as well as other niggling problems that I've haven't screamed repeatedly for.  Shall we say, I have a bad attitude whenever I see any person who is on the 'post operative' team?  Thank heaven, I got a competent physical therapist, or I'd really be in deep trouble with an untreated infected incision. 

In my last blog entry, I said, "Let's hope there's no Round 4 blog entry."  Well......, do I dare wish I don't have to write a Round 5 entry?  I'm getting worn down by fighting to get post operative care.  Drake is also getting worn down, frustrated, and almost as angry as I am as he also advocates.  And, anger is SOOOO conducive to healing.  The upshot is don't take me off your prayer list, and I could really use some cards, letters, emails, or calls.   
     

Round Three: Pain, Pain As Far As I can See

I discovered this week I'm in the two percent.  I don't want to be.  Apparently, two percent of the people with this type of surgery have nerves that refuse to settle down and stop being inflamed.  Why am I not surprised?  Everything about this surgery has been out of control from the very beginning.  Now, I have out of control pain.

I know pain, and I know nerve pain.  We're old friends thanks to a foot surgery that went bonkers about 12 years ago.  Since then, I've been managing pain with every step I take, and if I may pat myself on the back, I've been doing a damn good job.  I'm not addicted to pain killers; I continue to function at a normal activity level.  Most people never know I even hurt which is the way I've wanted it.  And, one of the side effects of the neuropathy which has invaded my feet these past few years, is the pain specific to certain nerves has been deadened.

So, when the nerve pain in my back, down both the front and side of my leg and in my groin went out of control this week, I hurt so badly I couldn't even be mad.  I'm talking labor pain quality of pain, but without respite or even the prize at the end.  I'm talking 8+ on the pain scale.  It was pain at this level which originally sent me to the emergency room and resulted in the back surgery happening on an emergency basis on a Saturday morning.

Fortunately, for the support staff of this 'machine' I've been dropped into, Drake has been interfacing with them since all I want to do is scream and curse when they don't return calls or make idiotic suggestions.  This is a conveyor belt operation.  First, you get scheduled for surgery, then have your pre-surgery appointment after getting blood work, an ekg, and a chest x-ray.  (This is precautionary, so you don't die on the table.)  Then, you have 'day surgery' in the outpatient clinic, and go home armed with post surgical instructions and a low dose pain prescription.  Two weeks later, the physician's assistant takes out the stitches and they send you on to physical therapy.

They don't expect you to have surgery in the hospital on a Saturday.   Not only did I not receive post operative instructions, but when we called for the follow up surgical appointment, this well-oiled machine didn't even know I'd had surgery!  Plus, they managed to screw up the time and place of the post operative appointment.

They don't have a plan when you call three days after surgery with complaints of 7+ nerve pain.  I've had to explain I already take Gabapentin a low dose prescription used as an anti-inflammatory, and I can't take ibuprofen around the clock.  (Those were their first choices for pain management.)  Grudgingly, they prescribed a steroid pack.  I've been given a low dose narcotic. I'm taking Celebrex as an anti-inflammatory.   When the steroid pak was finished, the pain zoomed right back into the stratosphere, and I coped with it for two days waiting for the post surgical appointment. 

It was at that appointment I found out I'm in the vaulted 2%.  Apparently most people at the two week point feel mild discomfort for which they take an Aleve.  For us 2 percenters, they grudgingly have to keep trying stuff to control pain for the continual nerve inflammation.

At the post surgical appointment, high dose narcotics were prescribed.  As I was trying to understand what happens when you take high dose narcotics, and trying to explain I was worried about addiction, the physician's assistant told me he was running an hour late and we needed to move along.  He concluded the appointment by taking out the stitches and doing a sloppy job with a set of steri-strips.

Of course, no one mentioned how I'm supposed to handle the opiod constipation.  I'm still suffering anxiety because if these dope prescriptions are renewed, will I be at risk of becoming the newest member of Narcotics Anonymous?  The anxiety is mainly about what happens if I'm still hurting at these high pain levels when these prescriptions run out.

The good news is I don't hurt much.  The nerve pain has been masked, so I feel about 2-4 on the pain scale except when a dope dosage has almost worn off - then I rocket up to pain at level 6.  I'm disgruntled.  I'm depressed.  I'm anxious. I'm angry.

Then, there's EVERYTHING that Drake has been doing.  He tells me he belongs to the Clumsy Nursing Service and the Idiots Shopping Cartel when actually, he's been doing a magnificent job of taking care of someone who can't bend, twist or lift anything and who is also loopy part of the time and just a little off balance.

OK, I think I've finished complaining.

To everyone who has emailed me, texted me, called me, or sent me snail mail (my favorite), please accept my heartfelt thanks.  I love to get mail especially when I'm really down.  My favorites are the postcard in the shape of a baboon head, and the 20 line letter from a 2nd grader friend.  I'm also grateful for all the prayers being offered on my behalf.  Prayer is the best.  Oh, and the flowers I've received; those have been wonderful.  Then, there are the meals.  My friends and family have been johnnie on the spot delivering food.  (Drake is REALLY grateful for all those meals.)

I'm a lucky person who has lots of friends who go that extra mile to make me feel cherished.  I'm always telling people I write to who are ill a surefire way to pull yourself out of the depths is to count your blessings.  I have heaps and gobs of those blessings which are easy to overlook when your focus is negative.  So far, I'd give myself a C- for my mental state.  Writing this has helped me see how my attitude sucks.  Time to pull up my sox - well, actually, Drake has to do that since I can't bend over to put them on.  I guess I'm pulling up my metaphorical sox, and instituting ways to turn my mental attitude around.  I don't have time for excuses, or for more whining and I'm leaving the pity party.  I'm not sniffing up any more anger.  Hopefully, I WON'T be writing a 'Round Four' blog entry.  Thanks to all my readers for helping me clarify my thoughts and for helping me get my head screwed on straight.  (The head screw thing was one of my mother's favorites, and I always find the mental image of getting those screw threads lined up hilarious.)  See, I'm already smiling.

Round Two: Drake Wins the Day

Are you ready for round two?  Home from the hospital on Sunday.  Doing really well.  Monday goes really well, and I acquire the accessories necessary for no bending, lifting or twisting (walker, toilet rails, shower chair). 

Woke up Tuesday morning with PAIN, BIG PAIN. 

{Here's a short tutorial on how 'pain' is measured according to the medical field:  Pain:  1 - 2; can be completely ignored.  Pain 3 - 4; pain can be ignored if mind is engaged in something else; Pain 5 - 6; OK, this can't be ignored - need to seek some relief; Pain 7 - 8; Seriously, do something NOW, it's all I can think about.  Pain 9 - 10  Oh, Lord, this is unendurable.}

I spend a lot of time at Levels 3, 4, 5 due to my foot issues.  So, when I say BIG PAIN, I'm talking 7+. 

OK, so I woke up Tuesday morning at 6am with BIG PAIN.  And it was nerve pain hurting in all the places I supposedly just had fixed.  Talk about despair.  My first thought was:  the surgery to repair my back and free up the nerves hadn't worked.  Moaning, crying, panting, rocking, and so forth while Drake works at making me as comfortable as possible.  We waited until 8am and called the surgeon's office.  First, they tell me not to worry, this is 'normal'.  It turns out the nerve block the Doc used during the surgery had worn off, and I was feeling the inflammation of the nerves he worked around.  Help was on the way.  The medical assistant immediately sent a steroid pack prescription electronically to our local Walgreen's.  This was about 8:15am

9:00 comes and goes 10:00 comes and goes.  Drake calls the drug store twice and finally says, "What the HELL!  It turns out Walgreen's has this little woman in a soiled house dress,  wearing sagging support hose, dirty house shoes with bunion cutouts, with smudged half-glasses perched on the end of her nose, pecking away in her computer cubicle entering all the electronic prescriptions that have arrived for the entire Phoenix region into Walgreen's pharmacy computers.  You can't get your prescription filled at Walgreen's until the electronic prescription sent in by your doctor is manually imputed into the Walgreen pharmacy system.  And, it's not just Walgreen's, folks.  It's EVERY pharmacy.  There are no electronic links between your doctor's office and the pharmacies.   

Meanwhile, the BIG PAIN is ratcheting up and and up and up.  I think I hit an "8" on the scale at one point.  Oh, and these aren't like labor contractions, there are no 'rest periods' - it's just all pain, all the time.  Drake is alternating between anger and angst.  About 11:00am, he just goes up to the doctor's office and cajoles a paper facsimile of the electronic prescription out of them.  He heads for Walgreen's, and then GETS TO WAIT FOR 30 MINUTES to get it filled even though Walgreen's has supposedly 'had it' since 8:16 am! 

At 1:00 pm after being in Level 7+ pain without any let up since 6:00 am, I finally get the first dose from the steroid pack prescribed to take the inflammation out of my agitated nerves.  At 3:00 pm - poof, no more nerve pain.   

You can take this as a cautionary tale.  Here's the take-away:  Get paper copies of any prescription you plan to fill either immediately or as future treatment for a medical 'event'.  Electronic submission of a prescription is a minimum of a one-half day wait or longer to get it in your hands.

And in my eyes, Drake wins the day by defeating the big demons with ingenuity and persistence.  Yea, Drake! 

   

 

A Harrowing Week!

Hello, readers.  Boy, do I have a NEWSFLASH!  One Sunday in San Diego, next Saturday in Sun City having back surgery.  Here's how it all came about:  Suddenly, on Monday, September 18, I got up to go to the bathroom about 2 am, and my left leg collapsed underneath me.  I had been having increasing pain in NEW PLACES in my left leg and groin building all day Monday.  On Tuesday, September 19th, we went to an Urgent Care Center and I got a steroid shot which seemed to calm down some of the pain, and make the leg stronger.  However, all was not right, and it was obvious we couldn't wait until November 1st to have the previously scheduled back surgery.  I managed to get the back surgery moved up to October 9th, and with that scheduled, we knew we should just get back to Sun City as my condition seemed to be mysteriously deteriorating.

We packed up and we left San Diego on Tuesday, September 26th, and that 400 mile ride was quite difficult for me.  Wednesday, September 27th, I was at my primary care doctor having the pre-surgery appointment.  Then, Thursday, September 28th, everything went to hell in the proverbial hand basket.  My pain just kept increasing throughout the day and into the night.  By the early morning hours of Friday, September 29th, I was in agony, and the pain I was experiencing in my groin and back was greater than any labor pain I've ever had.  I dressed and undressed three times trying to decide whether or not to go to the emergency room.  Finally, good sense prevailed, and I arrived at the Sun City hospital emergency room at 6am.

Within a few hours, I was admitted to 'observation', or as I like to call it 'purgatory'.  You are on a floor of the hospital in a room with a bed, but you are not technically admitted.  The best thing about being in purgatory is I was handed off by the emergency room doc to the hospitalist (hospital doctor).  Why did this happen?  Because even morphine in an iv drip was not touching the pain.  If you can't take pills to treat a problem, they don't send you home.  It took the hospitalist to really take hold of the pain problem.  To manage the pain, he put me on something 10 times stronger than morphine delivered by iv in 3 hour increments.  He also apparently laid the law down to my surgeon and explained he should come to the hospital and schedule an emergency surgery for Saturday, September 30th.

And, that's what happened:  First, on Friday, I had a series of MRI's - I think five in total spaced out throughout the day with the last one happening at 8 pm on Friday evening.  It turns out that Back Problem #1 was joined by Back Problem #2 in San Diego and #2 was causing the big pain increase.  The surgeon corrected both problems with micro-surgery - meaning he used a tube in conjunction with a scope to correct both problems individually instead of laying open my back.  I have two one inch incisions, which are sore, but I went home Sunday (today, October 1st) and expect to recover in 6-8 weeks.  (Probably a little longer for me since I'm a slow healer.)

Here's the GOOD NEWS:  As of Sunday evening, I have NO nerve pain running down my leg, or in my groin.  The only back pain I'm feeling are the two incision areas, and those feel totally different than the nerve pain I was previously having in my back.  The BAD NEWS (especially for Drake) is I can't bend over or twist my body or lift anything over 2 pounds for 6-8 weeks.)  I'm using a walker to help me remind myself to turn my body not twist at the waist - harder than you think.  The NOT SURPRISING NEWS is I found the walker at Goodwill for $10 and Drake went to pick it up.  I left the hospital today with this walker

So.....  In closing:  If you live away from Arizona, and you are religious, continued prayers for healing, please.  If you live away and are not religious, then think good thoughts for my healing  If you have been a letter recipient currently, or in the past, I'm calling in your marker and would appreciate some mail.  If you live in or around Phoenix, I'm not going to be shy at calling you up and saying something to the effect:  And, what day in the next two weeks will you be bringing us a meal?  I'm  not cooking AT ALL until October 15th at the earliest, and probably not consistently for the next six weeks after that.  See, there's ALWAYS A SILVER LINING if you just look for it.