This week, in all honesty readers, has been a painful week. Physically, I mean. While all manner of Good Things have happened, they are somewhat overridden by the pain in my lower back/right buttcheek. More on that shortly.
On the Thursday I made my last post, Boyfie and I were approved for a unit in Brisvegas! (I know no one actually calls it that. Not the local Brisbanites at least…). I can’t describe to you how good it felt to hear that. Boyfie and I had been dreaming of this for a few months now (a relatively short time, to be fair, but still, a dream is a dream!) and it was finally coming true! Our own little Love Nest, with no one to answer to but ourselves. Just us and Max, living how we want to live. And we were so lucky to get it! It was the only property we had actually inspected (my dear Cousin had been able to view the property on our behalf) and we’re allowed to keep Maximus with no extra cost or terms. Huzzah! I’m actually super looking forward to decorating and choosing things for the house. Especially nods to my many fandoms!
Good stuff, right?
Friday morning, I woke up with a sore butt. At least, the top right side under my hip was sore. Thinking I had done something funny in my sleep, I tried to stretch it out and asked Boyfie rub some Voltaren on my ass (he had no objections) and thought that would be that. It was sore for the rest of the day and I figured it was like when you sleep on your neck in a funny way and it hurts all day and then is fine the next.
Only, the next day the pain felt worse and even felt like it was starting to spread slightly- more Voltaren. As the day wore on, the pain did not go away and getting up and down from chairs was steadily getting sorer. Sunday, the pain was almost unbearable- I couldn’t walk properly and was even feeling pain in my knee and ankle. Getting up and down from chairs was incredibly painful- I needed to lean on a table just to raise my butt off the couch, never mind standing upright. Bending was pretty much out of the question. I began to suspect that I had pinched a nerve, but none the wiser as to how I had. A concerned Boyfie determined that I must See A Doctor Immediately. I made a booking for the following day.
That day took me on a venture.I stood in the doctors office rather than sat, and told him of my woes. He made me lie (I did with difficulty) on the bed they always have and he lifted my leg and started to pull it back towards me. I squawked with pain and he nodded his head. He asked me to sit up (I did with difficulty) and he poked his fingers into my lower back. I stifled a scream, which was still quite loud- and given his office was right next to the waiting room, I’m in no doubt that the other patients heard me.
“You might have a slipped disc- I’m going to send you to get some x-rays done. Come back tomorrow and we’ll go from there.”
Well. That was more than I had bargained for. He prescribed me some anti-inflammatorys and panadeine forte for night time. Phoning ahead to the walk in x-ray place, they said there were currently four others waiting. Mother Dearest drove me to there and I signed in and waited. I was called almost immediately and led to a small cubicle to change into a gown and await my turn.
The radiologist was nice enough, but the positions she wanted me to lie in were super painful and moving around was painstakingly slow. Eventually she was satisfied and after getting changed out of the gown , I waited for my spine images. They gave them to me on a CD, which I was slightly upset about. I hadn’t had an x-ray since I was six and was quite looking forward to seeing my skeleton. Ah well.
The first night of panadeine brought forth a tirade of unpleasant dreams. I’m not a particularly vivid dreamer and rarely remember them the next day anyway, but these were something else. The one I remember most was trying to find the plane to take us to Brisbane, but instead only finding airline gaming rooms and bars. Max was already on the plane and it left without us. It was a very real sense of panic and fear in that dream.
Anyhow. The anti-inflammatory was doing its work and I could move around somewhat normally again. Still slowly, and sitting or standing for too long still caused me some discomfort, but improvement was happening.
Returning to the doctor the next day, he said that there was nothing irregular in my x-rays. He suggested I come back on Friday and if the pain wasn’t improved significantly, I’d have to go for a CT Scan. Oh goody.
I have to say though, one good thing has come from this. Having had a terrifying glimpse into the future, I am determined to take better care of myself. I have a friend in Brisbane who has a similar goal, and so together, we might be better. Is that another commitment rearing it’s ugly head? Perhaps…