Scientific Method - or Playing Hunches

It's been two weeks since that brief sighting of "the Corner" where one hopes to turn. This morning I have a hunch it might be approaching again. I feel some relief.

I took Flexeril last night and put the dreaded Tizaninine away in a drawer. The Flex did a gentler job of relaxing muscles and easing the vicious grip and locked sensation the pinched nerve has put on me. I added 12 hours of sleep.

With the scientific method, you try something, and if it doesn't work, you try something else. The doctors frown at any deviation from the Rx dosages and schedules, but their approach having failed, I try different variations myself.

There is plenty of pain, impatience, and gnawing desperation to blame it on.

Best hunch is the worst of the pain will settle down and I'll be getting around with less pain by mid-February. Not sure if that's a hunch or a prayer.

One's Own Medical Spreadsheet

From sometime in the wait zone between ESI procedures 2 and 3...

Escobar is a mad scientist and a seemingly decent and nice guy. His message has been consistent: to stay on the path and expect relief when (as part of the body's instinct to heal) the protruding part of the disk is re-absorbed.  Hopefully freeing the pinched nerve.  That would be The Moment hoped for.

How long that can take is fuzzy. Getting over a herniated disk can take weeks or up to a year and a half, the Doc says.  Does that mean all that time is filled with pain each and every day? No answer.

Target dates are not reliable. I lean toward Fate and Superstition.

I am getting old. Things fail. Entropy sets in. And old beliefs dig in deeper.

Note to self:  look up "pain fatigue."

Pills:  too many, as is, and the Holy AMA Book of Rules says take them all without deviating. Trimming dosages is an old pastime of mine, believing we are more often than not over-prescribed.  Just as doctors over-book their appointments. When three pills are called for, I'll listen to how I feel and take two, one, or none if I prefer.

It's my own heresy against the Church of Big Pharma.

Two of the back-pain pill Rx's are like zombie pills. I understand their importance but they will still have to work around my schedule. I mean, who wants to be a lobotomized pill-head 7x24? So I will allow gaps for reasonable Living Time, and push the deadhead pills toward low-activity times of day, or take them before sleep.

The new pills have to compete with my regular stable of pills. So it's like, for example, do I wheeze tonight by skipping the Singulair?  Adding that equals too much sleepiness. How about that muscle relaxer that deadens your soul?  Or the NSAIDs? And the heart meds? It's a regular stew.

And so on...one has to work it out using the self-informed formulas within their own medical spreadsheet.

Cautious, but maybe

Two nights ago an intimation of healing came. There was a general relaxation along the spine, a surprising ability to stretch and feel the spinal Lego parts that have caused all this.

I was cautiously optimistic the Corner was coming. The Corner they say is turnable...in time.

Feels like I'm late and looking.

A sense of impending healing gave me determination. A new opportunity. To get rid of the gimping and griping.

Today I've been walking some. Slow but unassisted. A quiet Indian.

With the healing and coping comes superstition. Or maybe it is not that but an enhanced awareness. Or maybe it's like going crazy.

27 years ago today Pete (my dad) died. In my dreams this week I asked for his help, and I imagine he responded.  I imagine he is around, watching. It wouldn't be the first time he offered courage.

A Week Later: Juggling Possibilities

The second round of steroid injections seems to be doing better, at least in helping to ease the back pain itself.  No spasms or across-the-board meltdowns of lumbar pain. No major lockups.

This leaves the radiating sciatic pain into my hip and leg, which is still there, largely unchanged. It means the nerve is still pinched or trapped. I suppose anyway. Which equates to more hobbling around on the cane, or grin-and-bear-it attempts to walk without it.

I have the option of only one more round of injections, if I choose to take it.  This would take me out a few more uncertain weeks.

The Pain Doc reminds me that the steroid shots assist and accelerate healing. Key word is assist. The body does the rest.

A neurosurgeon has offered some clarity and a possible path of escape. My willingness to have surgery is on the uptrend. After all these weeks, exceeding the average time of such an ailment, I am impatient. I'm afraid of permanent damage. I have enough appetite for risk to consider a discectomy.   Two or three weeks recovery from surgery might beat an infinite number of weeks suffering without any progress. Then what if surgery is a flop?

Gotta think about it. And press ahead on the current road. Patience, they keep saying.

Juiced, Procedure #2

After the three-week wait, I was in bad shape in the car going to Escobar Land.

Worse was climbing up on the table and laying face-down. Trying to be still and not spaz. The Doc and his assistant got quite a live demo of my pain. In return I was in a position to moon them.

The needles, as usual, are no big deal. Four containerized shots, each like drilling a little oil well.

I asked for hi-test, gimme all you got.  Doc said the 2nd time is sometimes a charm.

Again, it's all wait and see.