Just 24 little hours... (ago) I was lying on the floor of a radiology clinic in Aressy in tears. Unable to drive, unable to sleep, unable to walk, and ultimately unable to stand, the sciatica which crept up on me mid-Dec ramped up its game after Christmas leaving me in (arguably) the second worst pain of my life (but it was a close call).
Since the 27th December I’ve rapidly deteriorated to the point on Monday night that I thought I just needed to go to A&E. I’ve spent the last week gradually altering my usual day to day routine to cope with the pain I've been in: lying on a camping mat on the floor for most of the day and sleeping with my legs raised on a pillow; slumping over a side table to try and eat food; laying my undies on the floor to step into them, then working them up part of my leg with my right foot; taking 25mins to walk to school to pick up William when it normally takes around 6. I've been trying to stay mobile, as per my physio's instructions, but the usual leisurely walk around town even became too much for me. One day I tracked my route on Strava and I managed to walk 1.4km - in just under 30min. I was stopping every 150m to either massage my calf or just lying flat on one of the benches. I felt really useless. I was on a combination of paracetamol, codeine and (not advised for me, but I was beyond it) ibuprofen. And still I couldn't walk.
So yesterday. My scan was at 17h15 out in Aressy and just getting there was a mission in itself. We took the C3 and I was in absolute agony, folded up in the front seat. A far cry from what had become my only respite position: flat on my back on a camp mat with my left leg raised on the chaise longue. I hobbled into the reception and collapsed on the floor. They took me through and I was just relieved to get through the scan without needing to stop the machine due to being in pain. I just haven't been able to stay still. I got back out to reception and took up my spot back on the floor once again and after a short wait, the radiologist came out but worryingly, asked to speak with Iain rather than me. Iain and I have both admitted that we were very scared that there was something serious going on, and that we were about to receive Bad News. Turns out, it was pretty bad but not that bad, it was just that the radiologist assumed Iain's french was better than mine and thought it better to talk to him. The breakdown of it was essentially: "very bad herniated disc", "requires urgent medical attention" and "needs morphine". We tried not to panic and decided that we should just head straight to my GP. I called Jess on the way to get her to call ahead and explain my situation. The receptionist said "just come now" and we were there about 20mins later. I rolled out of the car and went straight to waiting room where, once again, I collapsed on the floor in tears.
Dr Gabe was great. She went though my scan, drew diagrams to explain what had happened to me and wrote me a massive script full of drugs to be taken at all sorts of different points in the day to address the pain. Within two hours of getting home, I was starting to feel some relief. I put my scan results through google translate to get a fuller picture of the situation and the gravity of it all became very clear: one bulging disc at L3-L4, and a fully herniated disc at L5-S1 which was pressing on the nerve. Bloody hell. I never do things by halves.
So that's me. I'm on a concoction of slow release and fast acting morphine and prednisolone, and I'm gathering yet another group of healthcare providers around me. I had the physio this morning and although he knows the surgeons can go straight for the knife (especially in extreme cases), he would like to see the injections attempted first. But we will only know one I meet with the specialist. Iain is getting advice from Poupey at work so we'll will just see where things take us in the next few days. This isn't going to be an overnight fix, but at least I'm starting to get some sleep.
Lorna.
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