Well Played, Fibro, well played...

*slow clap*

I've been procrastinating. I've put off writing this blog for almost a whole week. Lack of motivation, exhaustion, pain, stress... take your pick. On Monday, I procrastinated writing this by going to the store. And we all know how I hate going to the store.

I am a goddess when it comes to procrastination. And the weird thing about that is that when I used to do it, I would suddenly become more creative or become inspired. I had a deadline for homework or something and if I waited to the day before it was due, it would end up being some of my best work. I was even late on a photography assignment. And the teacher had a policy- if you were late, she took points off per day that you were late. I handed in my assignment on panning two days late. I should have had an entire letter grade taken off for that. She gave me an A anyway, because "it was too good for me to give it a B..." her words to me.

My body has decided that since I won't write a blog post in the daytime, it would help me get it out in the nighttime.
Well played, Fibrofuckingmyalgia, well played...

So, one would think that procrastinating this blog post for a week would result in something fantastic. Nope. Not so much. What we are getting, though, is a blog post brought to us by Insomnia Lite. And did I even start this when I got out of my wide-awake bed? No. I went to Facebook where I replied to some posts and then bitched about the fake insomnia. And then I read a really cool Buzzfeed article about one of the jousters I know.
AND THEN I WROTE MY BLOG POST   Nope! Not even then! I opened Photoshop and dug out my backup hard drive to find some photos from last year's Janesville Ren Faire to add text saying: "Soon". But then I stopped myself, because c'mon, I needed to type this up, right?

Here I am, having the all-over-itchy-body thing. And don't get me started on the muscle thing. I'm having the pain, of course. But not just pain, I have an all-over tightness in my muscles too. I feel like I need a good stretch.

"Why don't you just take a moment and stretch things? You used to be athletic, right? You know how to stretch properly..." 

YOU WOULD THINK SO, WOULDN'T YOU?!

As I lay in my bed (Laid? Lied? Lain? Slain?), itching and awake and achy, I decided to do some stretching to ease that muscle tightness. It didn't go exactly as planned... my quad- that's that big-ass muscle in the back of the thigh, right? You know, right under the ass? That big-ass muscle on the back of my thigh decided to remind me it existed by getting a cramp of Charlie Horse proportions. So... that. I started to stretch my arms and shoulders, but I felt that sharp tightening, so I stopped before it became a full-blown Armlie Horse.

To add to this general discomfort, my desk chair broke a few weeks ago (it had a good and busy life, supporting my ass- through the knee replacement and everything, so it was at least five years old). So I took my dad's. I mean, c'mon, he's not using it. Apparently, his ghost was, because it lasted a week in my house before it broke. (I have no idea how old his chair was). So, the Ghost of Dad decided that he didn't like me taking his chair and it broke... it literally broke beyond use the day I ordered a new office chair online (it should be here Friday!). I'm sitting on a hard metal folding chair with a sofa throw pillow on it. I would have thought with an ass as large as mine that I'd have a little built-in padding. Turns out, that's just for show. I'm sitting up so perfectly straight that my 8th grade typing teacher would be proud. (I'm also typing without looking at my hands, because that's how I was taught and my keyboard is on a little shelf under the top of my desk- good thing schools taught girls how to type in the early 80s, right?).

Oh, I do have one good thing to say... remember how excited I was about having that shot in my foot? Well, less than a week later, it was back to its usual level of Railroad Spike Hammering pain. I waited another few weeks, because I wasn't sure how long it should take to go into full effect. The last time I had it done was while I was under anesthesia for my total knee replacement and I was on the fabulous pain medication known as Oxycontin. I even had Morphine the day after the surgery. That was a fun drug. As the nurse put the needle into my IV tube, I was writhing in pain and as she pressed the syringe plunger (that's what that thing is called, right?), I asked: "How long will it be before this takes effect?" Except I said it more like this: "How long till ThIs TaKeSSssss uhhhhffff-ehhhcktuh?" And then I woke up four hours later.

So you can see that I wasn't sure how long that shot would take to work. I went back after four weeks and the doctor discussed my options with me. And so as not to bore you to bits again, I covered that in a blog post on Conversations with the Disabled Guy. To summarize- my choices were "another shot and hope for the best" or surgery. And the surgery needs 6 weeks to recover. And I won't have that kind of time till November. Just a reminder- my fibro made my knee replacement recovery last a year and a half instead of just a year. So quite obviously, I can't count on my body going along with that 6-week timeline.

We opted for the "another shot and hope for the best" option. And good news- it worked this time. Now the only pain I have to deal with is the fibro (and the tendinitis in my feet and shoulder, and the arthritis in my hands and wrist... but hey, that's okay!).

I'm sitting here, in the middle of the night, on a horrible metal folding chair and sofa pillow, listening to Flo Rida, and itching like I've got some kind of medieval disease.

But at least my left foot doesn't hurt.

And we've got 39 days till the Janesville Renaissance Faire.

Bring it.

And then the ANGELS started SINGING!

I had my podiatrist appointment today. And the pain has been never-ceasing. Worse upon standing, mornings are such hell that I've actually cried. And leading up to my appointment, I went back in this blog and read about my hot spots and to see when I started loudly complaining about this foot. And it seems that my hot spot issues were probably caused by this damn heel.

So, just like any other day, I dragged myself around my morning, drove the 25 minutes to the doctor's office (Not the VA hospital, the VA hospital doesn't see me for podiatry), and limped my way into the building. (then to the elevator, then to the office itself). I hadn't been to that office in four years and that time was when the doctor gave me the dandy shoe inserts that I still use today (because they're still functional and doing their job).

After all the usual stuff (blood pressure, weight, etc), the doctor comes in and yes, he's still as attractive as he was back then (a little fact I'd forgotten about) and he still needs a haircut. But I digress...

After listening to my story of the pain (OH THE PAIN), and how it started bothering me at least in September, he had me get my foot all naked and then he folded the hem of my jeans up... MY ANKLE WAS SHOWING! Scandalous! It didn't take much poking for me to almost leap off the table with the pain (OH THE PAIN!). He said, very cautiously, as if I were going to object, that he'd like to put an injection in my foot of- and I said: "Yes, let's do that. Right now. I'm ready..." That's right, I didn't let him finish.

You see, in 2009, I had my left knee replaced. And I had this pain (OH THE PAIN) in my right foot. While I was under anesthesia, Doctor Attractive came into the room and put some kind of injection in my right foot. I knew this because there was a band-aid on my foot and when I took it off, I could clearly see the injection mark. The big tip-off came when I stood up for the first time and my foot didn't hurt. Of course, at that particular moment, I was preoccupied with the blinding and freakish pain that was my knee replacement. I was also trying not to fall flat on my face because I was two units low on blood.  But I managed to get through my recovery and all the years since without a major flareup of the plantar fasciitis.

So yeah, when Doctor Attractive suggested an injection, I was all for it. Plus, it would be a lot easier and not nearly as messy as cutting off my foot and growing a new one.

What I had injected into my foot was a mixture of anti-inflammatories and Novocain. (I don't know if it was actual Novocain or a Novocain-like substance. Doctor Attractive is the type to scale back his fancy talk for us normal folks without the medical degrees). Now, let me share some photos. And the description of the ordeal will be among the photos.

This is my foot. Well, my feet, but you know, the naked one is the one with the issues. My ankle is mostly obscured by the angle of the photo and my jeans.  DON'T STARE AT MY BARE ANKLE, YOU PERVS!



Before he jammed pushed the needle into my foot, he cleaned it and blasted it with a spray that made it really cold. Then he grasped my foot and said, "You'll feel a light pinch now..." and that's when the gaping maw of Hell opened and Satan himself spit directly onto my foot.

I expressed that I was indeed feeling some pain.

Then he pushed the needle in further. And I expressed my pain, again. And I said: "Wow, that shit hurts. I'm glad I was unconscious last time."

After the Devil's spit area stopped burning, the inside of my foot exploded in a symphony of What-the-fucking-hell-man!? as he pushed the contents of the syringe into my foot. When he pulled the needle out and pressed the cotton to my injection site, it didn't hurt. Then he put a band-aid on it. And it didn't hurt.

He said that we humans (for the most part, all of us) have a few centimeters of soft tissue between the outside of our foot to the tendon that is inflamed. (he even showed me on a skeleton foot he had with him, but I'd put my phone away by then) and once "you push past the smooth easy tissue and hit a bit that starts crunching, you've hit the inflamed area..."

Let me show you the needle. And that's his hand... obviously, because I have freakishly small hands for an adult.



That's pretty damn big... how big? "About an inch and a half" was the answer. And how far of that was jammed pushed into my foot?



After a few minutes of him explaining to me that today should be good because of the Novocain, but tomorrow I might backslide a bit while it takes full effect (because it all depends on how your body reacts to injections. You might not be sore and bruised from a flu shot, but your neighbor might need his arm amputated because its gone gangrenous), he left and I put my sock and boot back on...

AND THAT IS WHEN THE ANGELS STARTED TO SING!

No pain in my foot. NO PAIN.

So, here we are, hours later and there is some soreness in the injection area. But it is absolutely nothing compared to the white-hot blinding pain that I had before.

The doctor also liked my boots. He liked my boots the last time, too (the same boots, well, the same style, newer pair, of course). He even said the same thing he said last time- that he could tell I actually wore my boots and didn't just buy a new pair to pretend like I wore them. (apparently, some women wear high heels, get foot problems and then wear flats to his office like he wouldn't be able to tell they spent hours a day in heels). And when he told me: "See if you can find yourself some boots with a slight heel to them, that will help a lot", I took that to mean: "Patty, I can tell you love your boots, but if you had some with a slight heel, you'd be much happier, so you have my professional medical advice to buy yourself another pair of Dr Martens boots- with a slight heel." That's how you translated it, right?

Now if we can get the weather to stop triggering my fibrofuckingmyalgia, I might be able to lose the weight I gained over the winter (I lost almost 30 pounds last summer and its all back now).

The best part was that I was visibly limping when I arrived and when I walked out- I was not. I walked like all you normal people out there. And those of you who aren't normal but are trying to appear normal... I was walking like that... instead of limping.

I can't come up with a clever title for this one...

There are a lot of things pain does to a person. It does its work slowly, sometimes, so slowly you don't even realize it. Like a river changing its course. Just one day it happens to be there and you don't remember it always being there, but you can't remember when it wasn't there.  Losing my hearing was one of those gradual things. I didn't realize how bad it had gotten till I was able to hear things again. It makes me wonder just how long I suffered through it (and my family, for that matter. Having to repeat things is annoying. Trust me, I know).

A few weeks ago, I had my usual followup appointment and I discovered I had a new doctor. I get a new doctor every few years because the Veteran's hospital in Madison, Wisconsin is a teaching hospital. Normally, when I see my doctor, everything gets updated across the board (I'm speaking of the medicines I take to stay alive and it includes my Hydrocodone and muscle relaxers). Of all the pills I take (I take blood pressure meds and water pills that are prescribed), the Hydrocodone is the only one that is refilled on a monthly basis. ALL the others (including the over-the-counter vitamins I have to take) are a 90-day supply (including the muscle relaxers). I don't know why this is, because I would think a 90 day supply of muscle relaxers would be just as bad as a 90-day supply of Hydrocodone.

Anyway, it took me till this month to realize that there's a pattern to things. Like I said, all my medicines are a 90-day supply but the pain meds. And I call in my refills with two weeks notice- just like they tell you to- so I don't end up running out. This time, though, I called in my refill and the automated voice told me that the prescription had expired and if I wanted to request a renewal, press one now. So I did. It said to "wait ten days" before calling back. I had two weeks, of course ten days is nothing.

Now, I get enough pain meds to take six a day for thirty days. I don't take that many every day. Some days I just take three at night. But as we all know, this past year has been the weirdest weather year ever. I have no idea when I'll have a day bad enough to require daytime pain meds. So, when ten days came and the automated number told me that "a request has been submitted, no action has been taken", I stopped taking any daytime pain meds. I started only taking two at night, and taking over-the-counter acetaminophen. (Hydrocodone is 5mgs of hydrocodone and 325 mgs of acetaminophen). Plus my nightly muscle relaxers. I called back two days later (so, twelve days after the request) and was told it was "processing".

I had several days where I needed to take pain meds, but I also had the luxury of not having to do anything or go anywhere, so I just suffered through it. They came in the mail before I ran out, luckily. And the day that the pills arrived, I took two. It was great. I noticed the difference within an hour. (then I proceeded to take a bunch of photos of bald eagles at a local park, trudging around in the snow for 40 minutes).

So, that's the usual bullshit. Pain here, pain there, sometimes less pain, sometimes more pain. And the new-normal bullshit... the pain in my foot. My left foot, to be precise. I always have foot pain- always. For the last 22+ years. I know this, because my son just turned 22 years old and it was while I was pregnant with him. Sometime between the end of Bristol (first September) and one of the other faires (first week of October, second week of October) or Teslacon (first of November), my plantar fasciitis flared up and has not stopped. I tolerated it because I had no choice. I had shit to do and it had to be done. Nothing helps- no pain meds can even take the edge off this pain. It feels like a red hot railroad spike is being ground into my heel every time I put weight on it. When I don't have weight on it, it is a dull, throbbing, burning reminder not to ever stand up again. Any time you see me at an event and I have any kind of limp, odds are that its my feet. My knees never hurt anymore (not since the knee replacement).

Back in the day, I went through a cowboy phase. I had the hat, the boots, even a Driz-a-bone coat. (I didn't wear the hat much, though). The slight heel on the cowboy boot takes the pressure off heel spurs/plantar fasciitis. That's how I survived for a number of years- when I was doing the four-miles a day concrete pounding in sneakers, I spent those days wearing cowboy boots. Well, I don't have cowboy boots anymore. I don't get to wear cute girl shoes with a slight heel either. Till now... A couple months ago, I discovered these boots...

And they worked. That little heel took some of the pressure off the spurs that create the pain at the slight-inside part of my heel. And, dammit, they look cool too! (they're RED!) Look... see how cool they are?

Well, they don't work much anymore. They do ease a bit of the pain, but instead of eliminating it like my old cowboy boots used to, they reduce it to a grinding bruise pain. That's hugely better than it was before, don't get me wrong. And if I could wear these every day, I sure as hell would. But if you have bone spurs, you know they don't only exist in the heel. I also have to tolerate it in the front of the arch, near the ball of my foot.

After months of this pain, I finally looked up home remedies beyond "a slight heel". Ice, stretches, elevation, rest... I've done it all. The ice part doesn't help at all. It just makes my heel cold. Stretches have their own issues with hurting like fucking hell- but I do them! Every morning before I get out of bed, I do a few stretches. Sometimes it helps, most times it doesn't. And rest... elevation. Sure, I'd sit down with my feet up if I could. So, I Googled "when to go to the doctor" and now I have an appointment next week with a podiatrist. I haven't seen him in about four years (shortly after my one-year followup with my knee surgeon). When I had my knee replacement, the podiatrist gave me some kind of shot in my right heel (same area), so I would be able to use my right side during my recovery. By comparison, that spur rarely hurts, even now. (I still have the general foot pain, though).

I'm going to make the suggestion that we just cut off my existing foot and grow a whole new one. They can do that now, right? This is the future we were always told about when we were kids, right? RIGHT!?