Nine Days

I just heard from my doctor’s office, and my surgery is scheduled for next Wednesday, January 17^th. I’m pretty disappointed that it’s not going to be sooner, but at least it won’t be later. I’m going to just give myself a little bit of time to be upset about the timing and the fact that I have to deal with this crap at all, because there’s really no way to sugar-coat it. This blows. Hard.

And then, I will suck it up, get as much work done as possible between now and next Wednesday, try to go for a few long walks and go swimming a few more times, and try to give myself the best chance for a quick recovery.

I’ve been sacked out on Special K’s couch, with the Food Network playing in the background as I work, giving me good recipe ideas while I attempt to earn my keep. I’m not sure that I’d say I’m doing a good job, but learning the discipline necessary to really work from home does take a little work, and discipline is not my strong suit. I have a feeling that turning off the TV will be step #1. (When you can actually sit, then you can actually sit in an office, and all of these things are more conducive to concentration.)

So that’s the scoop. I’m not happy about having surgery, and I’m not happy about waiting to have surgery, if those two things make sense at all. I just want to be able to move around normally, without being in pain. I want to be able to use both of my legs, to feel both of my legs, and to get back to the rest of my life. So, if I have to have surgery to do all of those things, then fine.

Meah.

My cousin knows a spine specialist, he’s actually a good friend of hers. She had talked to him about me and my situation, and he very generously offered to talk to me, if I wanted to speak with him. I’m feeling very crunched for time with this whole surgery thing (I kind of have a deadline, after all), and while it’s certainly not a bad idea to get a second opinion, I was worried that doing so might take another couple of weeks, by the time I got my appointment and heard what that person had to say. It could be the end of the month, leaving me with less time than I have now. So I was able to talk to this very nice doctor and if he thought a surgical recommendation was a little hasty/rash/crazy, then I would go ahead and take those extra few weeks to see someone else.

After a lot of talking and describing what I was feeling, what my MRIs looked like, and what my doctor said to me, he said that it sounds like we’ve tried the conservative, non-surgical measures, like rest and anti-inflammatory drugs (three courses, in fact), and since my symptoms aren’t showing marked improvement, surgery is a reasonable option. Apparently I have a classic case of…something with a lot of syllables.

Speaking for myself, if it wasn’t for the fact that I’m getting married and going to Italy this spring, I would be a lot more willing to give it time and see how much my body would heal on its own. He did mention, however, that the most successful surgical window for this kind of thing is approximately six weeks to three months after the rupture of the disc, which he’s guessing started about the time that the pain started radiating down my leg. So, right now I’m at about four to five weeks since I started feeling the pain travel, and the odds of marked improvement in the next week are – well, they’re kind of slim. (That’s just my opinion.)

So that leaves me here – calling to try to schedule a procedure so I can get it done and get better.

The good thing was that I was able to ask the second doctor questions that forgot to ask the first one. Including things like “can I exercise?”. He said that I should be okay with things that are very low-impact, and nothing that would stress my back. Therefore, Special K and I went to the gym tonight and I finally managed to get back in the pool. Time restrictions being what they were (the gym closes early on the weekends), I was only able to do ½ a mile, but it felt good to be doing something. I felt okay doing it, and I’m trying really hard not to favor my leg, and to move normally as much as possible. It’s for the best in the long run, but not always my favorite thing.

We’ve been cranking out wedding invitations this weekend, forming an assembly line with my parents last night. My dad is not the type of guy who you might expect to see cutting and threading lengths of raffia, but he did quite well, even though it didn’t involve fire or power tools. Special K and I also ordered our wedding rings last week – he took a little longer to figure out what he wanted than I did, but we’ve got our deposit in with a lovely, family-owned jewelry store that gave us a good price and came highly recommended. Hurrah for that!

So, regardless of what kind of silliness I have to deal with, as far as my back goes, wedding things are continuing on. In case my recovery falls a little short of what I’d like, some friends have offered to make me a bridal gurney, complete with lace and ribbons and (probably) tulle – Special K can just spin me around the floor.

If it has an incline setting, he can even dip me.

We’ll make it work.