Mister Me

Well no, close, it's MRI, or magnetic resonance imaging, also known as the test that health insurance companies will only cover after weeks of physical therapy has been tried. I understand; it's a limited resource that's expernsive to use so using only as definitely needed makes sense for the greater good.

I have, however, discovered a shortcut to MRI approval: wind up in the emergency room twice in four days. Yup, my leg, despite my using the higher doses of pain reliever recommend after the first ER visit was growing even worse, and on Tuesday night, after less than an hour in bed, the mere weight of summer blankets was hurting my ankle so much that I needed to put on the air cast to help support it. There was one more big problem. The cast was twenty feet away on my dining room table.

Okay, I grabbed my cane and with two hands on it took as much weight off my ankle as I could. I've been saying that after being hit by the car in 2022, I hope that, when asked how I am, I'll henceforth always be able to say: I've been worse. I think that's still true, but after Tuesday's twenty foot walk, I thought of a new line. That was the most pain I ever remember, what with having no memory of the first two weeks after the accident.

It hurt, hurt a lot, but I made contact with the air cast, threw it onto the couch, then climbed over the back myself to avoid the extra steps of hobbling around it. Aftet three minutes focus, I regained control of my breathing, put on the cast  and butt shimmied my way back to bed. Ouch, problem, I wasn't ready to call 911, but maintaining a bailout option felt important, so I called my amazing friend Adele to ask if they would leave their phone on that night.

Adele may think I have a higher tolerance of pain than even I think I do, so when I called for help, it was taken seriously. It was still before 9pm, so after a couple minutes on the phone, Adele suggested picking me up immediately to stay in Northampton where I'd be closer to healthcare when I was bound to need it within the next day. A half later I was crutching my way to Adele's car then we were on or way to their apartment in the little city.

With the passenger seat all the walk back and my leg extended, I was manageably comfortable and able to join dialog about how damn high the headlights of some trucks are aimed. With only minor glare blindness, we made it, and Adele took my backpack and headed to the door. I made it half way then needed to take a break, sitting on the side porch. Adele sat and comforted me, and started asking a question. I knew we were thinking the same thing: I was sitting the same from the door as the car that could take me to the emergency room right then.

I truly don't want to abuse the ER resource and had said that to a nurse I consulted after my first visit. Her reply: Yes, but when you need it, use it! So, back into the car, a couple miles further up route nine, into a wheelchair, and I was checked into the emergency room. The wait wasn't too long, but just long enough to figure out if I tilted my torso left, elongating the right sideof my spine, it went a long way toward relieving my pain. Call it hack, fake-engineer medical diagnostics, by that was furthet confirmation of my increasing suspicion that my pain was nerve related, not mechanical.

It was more completely confirmed by the CT scan that showed compression of my L3 through L5 lumber, with the resulting stenosis pushing on my sciatic nerve. Ouch! Maybe my receptors are less sensitive to pain, but push right on the nerve and I'll feel that, and how! Yay. That's not great news, but it is knowledge, and with that, the medical system can start working toward a more complete fix. While I hate giving credit to a cartoon whose primary purpose was to dupe young boys into soldiering, GI Joe did have a good tag line: knowing is half the battle.

With a combo of an injected pain med and a pill specifically for nerve pain in my system, after discharge I was able to sleep more than an hour in the waiting room and make the call to Adele for collection a wee less disruptive to their already thoroughly disrupted night's sleep. I want to say here what I've already told them multiple times: Adele is awesome. Thank you!

In addition to closer access to the ER, floor (not couch) surfing at Adele's meant another same length trip in the opposite direction the next afternoon for a visit to my primary care doctor's office where Dr Hayden again covered Dr Lash and was able to see me on short notice. Happily, both are great practitioners who interact with me with care, respect, and knowledge, and I left the office with an MRI already scheduled for this Sunday. The squeaky wheel is getting greased!

Stretching my piriformis while I sit.

It runs over the sciatic nerve and can push on it.

Stretching helps a lot!

Good lesson

And I'll finish with one more thank you to my friend Matt who lives in the town next to me and who commutes on a route that takes him two hundred yards from the medical office entry where I waited for him. In addition to the ride home, he gave me a quick tour of the medical office parking lot that had been his skateboard playground during Covid lockdown. Seeing the features he was playing, I confirmed my suspicion that Matt is skilled on a board and I want to see him skate sometime. Good friends are a damn good thing!