Caregivers are known for not taking care of themselves. I have let this stiff neck of mine haunt me for about 10 months. It took me at least 3 months to get myself to the chiropractor (who is my dear brother-in-law and treats me any time day or night, so here’s a shoutout to Yucha Chiropractic).
He tried tirelessly to get my neck to turn left and right. My arms tingled and felt like hot pokers were travelling along my triceps. This made removing T-shirts, sports bras and getting coffee cups out of the cabinet a Herculean task. Now, I don’t mind skipping the gym, but don’t mess with my morning coffee.
After serious chiropractic care and therapy, dressing, bathing and coffeeing were markedly improved. My neck was still stiff. Big deal. I taught myself to turn my entire body when merging into highway traffic. I made my workout buddy always take the elliptical to the left because that hurt less to turn and chat. I learned to sleep on my back because if I tried to sleep on my stomach, I had to keep my head lifted. My husband got spooked every time he turned towards me in the middle of the night to see the Sphinx lying in wait.
So truthfully this wasn’t working. I had to be encapsulated in an MRI, where I totally freaked out on Brenda, the tech, and made her take me out of the MRI three times during a hellacious hot flash which turned into a panic attack. This was new to me. I believe I could watch my own open heart surgery and not freak out. Menopause and a stiffy (not that kind, you naughty reader). Ugh. So fun.
My chiro suggests a pain doctor. I have a three month wait for an appointment (no, I don’t go to the VA hospital, nor do I live in Canada). He says, “yep, you are a great candidate for cortisone shots.” Yay.
It’s a mini-surgery. I warned them that I freaked out in the MRI, and they kindly called in a prescription for valium. MRI freak outs can have added benefits.
Post surgery, I made my husband take me out for lunch. Even mini-surgery qualifies for staying out of the kitchen. Miraculously, I was turning my head like Linda Blair in the Exorcist. At least that’s how it felt. The nurse warned me that between the valium and lidocaine this could be a false positive.
After a night’s rest, it was a bit painful, but I seem to remember sleeping on both sides of my head last night, so that’s an improvement. It’s far from perfect, there is still pain, but they told me to wait a week to see what happens.
In the meantime, I read my MRI report. I suffer from ridiculitis. Of course I do. I think the MRI doctor must know me from a former life or is reading my blogs. Ok it’s radiculitis….but that just means I’m a humorist who cheers for myself…Rah Rah.
“You just have to Laugh…..”
©Cathy Sikorski
You know you’re getting older when you start learning a whole new batch of words that end with “itis”.
That’s hiliariitis…
You had me at “a stiffy” but then I was, like, ‘awwww, bummer.’
I knew there were going to be true “stiffy” fans out there!
Ra diculitis I like the technical term. You make being sick or taking care of the sick fun!
Tea….caregiving..a barrel of laughs!
I freaked out thinking of your MRI. Do you think I can get some valium?
I feel very certain any physician will give you Valium if you read him/her this post.