Last night was not a good sleep night. DH is sick with a cold and has all the snot that goes with it. Which means that he also snores more. Loudly. So loudly he can be heard over my iPod playing at half volume! On top of that, he was restless last night. I swear had he tossed or or turned once more I was going to smother him with his own pillow! Luckily (for him) he got up about 20 min after I came to bed. He took his pillow and iPad to do some study on the lounge.
So, you'd think that with the bed to myself, I'd get to sleep right? After-all, I was exhausted... nope. I then found myself unable to get comfortable. Too hot; too cold; leg pain; hip pain; restless leg... I finally fell asleep around midnight. Doesn't sound too bad right? Wrong.
At 0100 I hear a faint "Mummy?" I wait to see if she goes back to sleep... "Mummy?" NOOOO! I just got to sleep! I call out
"what's wrong DD?"
"Mumma (sounding slightly more distressed)...I'm wet Mumma". Brilliant (note sarcasm). I hadn't double made her bed after her last accident (for all non-parents out there, that means making the bed and then putting a waterproof matress protector over it and then making it with a second set of sheets... so if your little bundle of wee - oops, joy - should happen to have an accident throughout the nocturnal period, you can simply remove the offending linen and toss it in the bathroom/laundry/leave it on the hallway floor until the morning whilst said bundle of wee/joy can climb into a fresh and, more importantly, dry bed before returning to the world of slumber...
So, I haul my backside up (noting along the way that DH has fallen asleep on the couch and is contently snoring away) and strip both DD and her bed all the time cursing my failure to double make her bed. Together we stumble through our haze of sleep (being careful not to turn on lights and upset her eyes (and therefore having her meltdown) by bright light) and get her into dry PJ's. She asks to sleep on the couch - sorry kiddo, Daddy beat you to it...we'll have to bunk together. So with a pillow in one hand and DD clinging to the other, we return to my room and climb into bed.
NOW I can sleep peacefully... right? Wrong. My nose decides now would be a great time to express it's dislike over the current pollen concentration we've been experiencing. I finally get that under control and my leg hurts again. Finally stops hurting and it becomes restless again. FINALLY, about 0200, I fall asleep. Only to wake at 0300 for no apparent reason. To my left is DD snoring softly. From the lounge I hear DH snoring not so softly. I toss and turn for a bit. Finally I decide to try some panadol for my leg. About 0340 I drift off to sleep. To wake at 0400. Annoyed I will myself to sleep. I have training in the morning! Next thing I know, my alarm is going off. Brilliant, 0700. A grand total of around 4 hours sleep give or take.
Next to me DD wakes crying like she's just been told her best friend cancelled Christmas... all because her hair was messy. WHO IS THIS CHILD?! Of course your hair is messy, you just woke up! I try (why, I don't know) to reason with her and get her to get in the shower with me (to wash off last night's wee off her whilst I shower for the day) only to be met by more hysteria. Anyone would have thought I asked HER to cancel Christmas! Finally, she gets in...*insert sigh of relief*...only to be greeted with another melt down when I announce it's time to get out. Are you for real?!
Finally we get to the gym. I check DD into the creche and tell her I love her (as only a mother would do right now!). I was a little reluctant to go into the actual gym though. Walking into a gym with a limp is never a good look. Especially when you're a good 30+Kg over weight. I always feel like I'm going to be judged. But I also know I need to do it. It's part of the deal... right? So I go in. No sign of Dale and I look longingly at the treadmills. For a split second I contemplate getting on one... but I make myself walk past them to the bikes. Getting on hurt and this guy in the weights area was watching me with an amused expression. I wanted to sock him. Better yet, make him walk an hour in my shoes.
I didn't push too hard on the bike. I sat at around half my normal level of difficulty and doubt I exceeded 50RPM. It hurt my left hip - the hip flexor. But I pushed a little. When Dale arrived I stopped and we had a wee chat about things before starting. Upper body weights. An hour of it. I hate upper body weights. No, really, I do. But only because for so long it was all I could do. And now I'm back there. It stinks.
We worked my core a fair bit. Some of the exercises hurt my hip flexor and leg due to referral of muscles we were activating. At one point I nearly threw up. Dale chose that point to make me sit on a fit ball for the remainder of the session. It was a light session. A baby one really. But it wasn't so bad. If I want to get better I have to just suck it up. Deal with the annoying exercises. Deal with the pain (so long as it doesn't make things worse). The only bad part of the session was getting off the bike and a bench which meant I had to lift my leg. Other than that, it was all manageable.
After PT came physio. OUCH OUCH OUCH! I tell you, this man is lucky he makes me feel better or I'd sock him one too... no I wouldn't, he's got massive biceps! he'd grind me to a pulp with one finger! LOL. He did more massage, traction, acupuncture, and laser. And it HURT! I won't be surprised to find more bruises tomorrow! Several times I was gasping with pain. But I know it's helping... We spoke about my injury, he looked at the images of my CT (no report at this point), told me the game plan and how I need to follow the rules (do I have "rebel" written on my forehead or something?). He wants to see me again Fri before work. Hmmm. That means things aren't as good as they could be... but he's making a special appointment for me. Coming in early. Why do physio's always do this for me? Do they think I WANT to get up earlier than necessary to see them so they can inflict pain on me?!? LOL. I know it's because of my shifts ;)
DD was so good at gym and physio I treated her to lunch out. Then I get the phone call from my GP. The one no one wants to hear after tests "I need you to come in. We need to discuss the results". No. No No No No No. No.
Me: "Is something wrong?" (nooooo, he just wants to discuss the weather doofus)
Dr: "The scan shows a new development. I think we should discuss it"
Me: "Is it bad?" (Deeeeeer)
Dr: "You have a new disc bulge. At L3/L4. But it's only minor"
Me: "Right. what does this mean?"
Dr: "It's compressed on the left like the last one. And it's making the compression at L5/S1 worse. You need to come in tomorrow to discuss your options. To make sure you have adequate anti-inflammatories"
Me: "Ok. What are my options? Was this caused by stair training?"
Dr: "This wasn't caused by exercise. Your options are 1) conservative treatment (AKA physio, rehab, pilates) 2). Epidural injections 3). Surgery. But we will discuss it tomorrow". End call.
My head went into a spin. A massive one. A NEW bulge? HOW?! WHY?! How long is this going to take me to recover this time? What's it doing to my spine? I start thinking about career changes. Kissing goodbye my PT dreams. I ring DH fighting off tears. I can't let DD see me upset. I tell DH the news. He sounds as concerned as I am. But he says he wants me to see a surgeon. I. Do. Not. Want. Surgery.
I message a couple of friends. DD and I finish lunch. In the car, I call Dale. I tell him the news. Not good. He's supportive. Tells me to not to stress about it. I want to reach through the phone and shake him. How, exactly, do I not stress about this?! But he reminds me I've overcome this once before and can again. This time we know exactly what does and doesn't work. He knows me well, he knows my signals and expressions. He can read me like a book... so I can't get away with anything. He reminds me to look forward. I feel a little more able to deal with it.
I spoke with my best friend (Ce) who also kept me grounded and focused. She let me vent, cry, and whinge. She reminded me to wait for my appointment tomorrow. I can't do much else...
So, the plan? Breathe. Back to work tomorrow (should be a barrel of laughs). GP after work. Some core work and stretching after dinner. I imagine I'll have to meet with my boss and the return to work person tomorrow. Should be interesting.... especially if I tell them about the scan results. Might leave that until after I talk to my GP...
One step at a time...
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