March 7 – “Drag out the needle”

I made my way to the doctor’s office yesterday.  Chris came with me.  Good thing.  I can never remember stuff like names of medications and when I had shots.  She carries a cheat sheet in her purse because I have had so many.  That cheat sheet came in handy, too.  Seems there was some question about whether it was indeed time for one of those evil shots.  No, not the kind you drink.  This one had something to do with what sounded like pneumonia, but that wasn’t it.  Chris found it on the cheat sheet.  Last time I had one was in 2010.  Yup.  Drag out the needle. 

We had quite the talkative nurse.  She and I carried on a refreshing round of banter when she was in the room.  I don’t think she has had a patient quite like me in some time.  She fielded whatever I threw at her, though.  Even to the snoring contest between her and her husband.  She insisted that when snoring was involved, it was always the husband.  Oh, no.  I have video evidence that counters that argument.  I’d be willing to bet her husband does, too.  But who are we loving husbands to rock the boat, right?  She did seem to relish the opportunity to stab me, though. 

So the decision on my back was that it was definitely a muscle spasm.  Not much to do at this point.  She suggested some patches that contain lidocaine and some other stuff.  Let me hasten to add here before you rush out and buy some.  It didn’t work.  Or at least it hasn’t yet.  Last night I was awakened by the pain at 11:40, 3:30, 4:15, and 5:11.  I finally gave up, got up, took some Tylenol, played the contortionist so I could rip off the patch without waking up Chris to do it for me, and heated up the trusty rice bag.  The combination of Tylenol and heat finally gave me some relief around 6:30 or so. 

On the maintenance drug front, we are going to try a lower dose of the anti-inflammatory.  The jury’s out, of course, on that one.  I haven’t even gone to pick up the new prescription yet.  We’ll see.

And the only really serious concern … the neck zingers.  When I described it to her, she immediately knew about which vertebra was involved.  Very impressive.  Sadly, however, her response was, “When the zingers get so bad that you can’t make them go away by changing the position of your neck, then we need to send you back to the neurosurgeon.”  Well, there you go …

Habakkuk 3:17-18 says, “Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior.”

Father, thank you for that fun nurse.  Give her a great weekend off with that non-snoring husband of hers.  Amen.