Life Hijacked

So it's been a busy week.

I bought a car. Which we knew. It was new. I love it. Still.

Excellent.

I went to work for two and a half days before the hecticness that has been the last five (six?) days began.

Let me start from the beginning.

In March, I think we all remember I hurt my back. I bent over for a pair of stupid pants and felt it go "pop!" and ended up on the floor thinking I wouldn't be able to get back up. I assumed (and still do, I suppose) that it was the reemergence of my back injury four or five years ago when I threw out my back, exacerbated by my working conditions and the unusual weight-lifting activities at the time (remember? I was trying to get in shape).

After the move (oh, dear, I haven't caught you up on that either...well that shall have to wait), at the end of July, it began aching again. Badly. Enough that I thought to myself, "Well, I was dumb not to go to the physical therapy they referred me to then, so I'll call and try to set up an appointment now." Which lead to a frustrating round of referral expiration (someone please explain that to me, it's not like it was medication!) trying to get the referral re-issued and then giving up and setting up a primary care doctor, which I should have done long ago anyways.

So last Tuesday, the 7th, I went for my new patient appointment at my new primary care doctor with the intention of getting a referral to physical therapy. After long discussion and confusing over-explanation, which boiled down to "I don't recommend physical therapy because this is something to do with nerve pressure in your sciatic ligament or something or other, let's give you a cortisone shot to hopefully relieve that pressure and go from there in about 12 days" I got a shot in my back — not in my spine or bone, as my doctor repeated several times to make sure he was clear, but in the soft tissue right above my right hipbone.

Worst case scenario, my condition wouldn't improve, and we'd have to take alternate steps from there.

I went about my two days (which ended up being so happily eventful, what with our fluffy puppy being born and me buying my shiny black sweetheart) and woke up Thursday morning thoroughly pleased and pleasantly surprised to have no pain at all in my back for the first time in...well...I can't actually remember.

Unfortunately, by mid-afternoon, it was back and with a vengeance, sending shooting pains into my mid-back. I wasn't supremely worried at that point though, because it wasn't super unusual. Though I did spend a couple breaks lying on the floor in the break room in enough pain to give my manager's teasing suggestion of cold calls serious thought.

Which should have told me something.

Stupidly, I ignored it.

I woke up Friday morning with the dull ache that I've become so accustomed to in the past few months. By Friday afternoon, the shooting pains were back and they had traveled down into my hips. By six p.m., I was lying on the floor of the break room cursing myself for not calling my doctor and wishing it was any day but Friday at 6 p.m.

Saturday morning showed signs of the shooting pains by 8:30 a.m., though I'd been at work for half an hour at that point. I struggled through a sale and then asked for cold-call busy work. I sat in the back room, stoically making cold calls and sending sales emails for the better part of two hours.

I just have to make it through the day, I thought to myself.

A customer came in and requested me specifically, which brought me out of my painful hiding place to make a sale. The sale was successful as far as getting phones out, but the pain that was now in the backs of my legs distracted me from doing more than the phones. Sadly, I kept hoping that he would leave more quickly so that I could go sit again.

I told myself at the end of the sale that I needed to just go home, but I chickened out at telling my managers. Luckily, they were aware of the ongoing condition, as it's kept me from work a couple times in the past couple months and it's a constant complaint of mine. I had excitedly let them know about my treatment on that Tuesday, but when the shooting pains had started, had mentioned it in passing.

My tearful state that morning had encouraged them into letting me hide in the back — provided I had something to do.

Now, it sounds terrible that I was trying to make it through the day, but the thing about my job — my only major complaint, and I can actually totally relate and understand why they choose to do it this way — is that the severely discourage the use of your sick time, to the point where you get written up and then even likely let go if you take too much (though we do have to hit the 80 hour mark and it's calculated in a rolling 12 months). Which again, I understand completely because I have seen firsthand how some people exploit sick time and take advantage of every little thing, the grand ol' case of one person ruining it for everyone, but because of this injury I was higher in that sick time number than I was comfortable with.

But by 1:45, I was in so much pain that I caved. I went to my managers and told them that I just couldn't do it. They encouraged me to call our human resources department since this has been such an ongoing thing and start the process of getting the time off (without being in danger of losing my job) that I needed to heal.

I went to urgent care on Saturday, and they gave me the same old song and dance I'd heard before about physical therapy and muscle relaxants, but my primary care doctor (who I saw Monday) was concerned enough to send me in for an MRI on Tuesday. An MRI which revealed that I have a minor ruptured disk smack dab below a bulging disk in my spine, which while had no definitive connection to the nerve root connected to my legs, was the probable cause for that pain and the definitive cause for the ongoing back pain. Which means I need to be out of work and off my feet for at least another five days — making it over a week total.

*Quick side note on the MRI: Tyler went with me, and since it was an evening appointment it was pretty much just us, the receptionist and the MRI Tech, so Tyler got to sit in the booth with the tech and watch the pictures from my MRI and learn all about it, which is totally up his alley. When we left, his eyes were lit up brighter than a kid on Christmas morning. *

He started me on prednisone (sp?) earlier today (as I haven't gone to sleep yet, it's still Wednesday) and we should know in about five days if it's working or not. If it doesn't work, the next step is referrals to a specialist and injections combined only then with physical therapy. Following that not working (which we're going to hope does), we'd be looking at surgery. But that's another bridge.

I've qualified for FMLA, a personal leave due to injury that does not count against my punishable sick time, thankfully, which is a difficult process — especially when one has a back injury and is trying to run around faxing things off to HR in addition to doctor's appointments and wanting only to lie down and let the nice painkillers take effect and ice my poor back — but it means that I will not lose my job. Since I'll be out more than 8 consecutive days, I may even be granted Short Term Disability leave, but theoretically I'll be healed and back at work before I find out if that was approved or not.

Which brings me to why I'm still awake. The prednisone has me wired, and that combined with the pain (which no longer stabs and has receded from my legs) is enough of a dull throb that I can't sleep! Oh and combined with SundayMondayTuesdayWednesday of forced inactivity for this normally very active girl doesn't help either.

But anyways, that's the crash and burn story that followed my awesome weekend last weekend. Cross your fingers for me that the prednisone works and I can be back at work slinging phones sooner rather than later.

Ciao,
kc