Sculpin

I think the Eameses would have liked this:

(Via A Near Life Experience, previously known as Spy’s Spice. Why that blog isn’t mega-famous I have no idea, because it is great.)

Quiet here, huh? I’ve mostly been writing over at Facebook; microblogging is good when sitting at a desk is a little much.

I had another epidural injection about a week and a half ago. They’re working brilliantly. I’m lucky: as herniated-disc patients go, I seem to be way out there on the awesome end of the recovery bell curve. The nurses and techs were floorjawed to see me up and walking at all. Don’t get me wrong: I still hurt and I still have to be cautious. But I can take very short walks now, and I’m even going back to work on Thursday for a few hours. That’s a big change from being almost completely unable to stand up.

Thank you to so many friends for offering support. I’m still working through the what-to-do ideas from my last post, and thank you all for them. Ted, your Pinkwater idea was brilliant. I had to spend a lot of time flat on my back, and listening to Pinkwater read his books made that time worthwhile. (I was a huge Pinkwater fan as a kid, but hadn’t kept up with his work; reading his new stuff felt to me like finding a new Jane Austen novel.) Amy, your chair was invaluable. Cabin fever would have had me chewing the drywall without it. Plus, I felt like you and Kill were my back-pain buddies in the Sisterhood of Ow — no matter how bad it got, I knew that you guys had been there, and that helped. Mia, your generosity made me all choked up. Carol and Ulysses, thank you for the stack of books — they were beautifully chosen for a whole range of cognitive capacity. I’ve really enjoyed revisiting the James Herriott books. Karl, that is a magnificent care package, and I’m especially happy to have a chance to watch Shimmer. You’re right: Sara del Rey is fantastic. (I love watching pro wrestling when I’m injured. Look, people who hurt more than I do!) Chris, thanks for playing delivery boy.
If I’m forgetting anyone, and I probably am, please blame the drugs.

And just everyone who dropped me a kind word, thanks. I thought of you guys as I went in for my second injection, which was psychologically difficult. Given that the first one felt like having my femur broken over and over — and I am not exaggerating here — I was bug-eyed with fear and dread going in the second time. I had my little beaded bracelet and kept going from bead to bead thinking, “I take refuge in the Buddha, I take refuge in the Dharma, I take refuge in the Sangha.” That, and holding Josh’s hand, and remembering that folks were rooting for me, kept the fear down to a dull roar. Even so, as I moved toward the injection room, I could feel my body becoming heavier and heavier. You know how when you take a cat to the vet, it magically becomes about four hundred pounds? I felt like that; my prefrontal cortex was saying “Yes” to the procedure, but the rest of me was saying, “Oh hell no.” If I’d had claws, they’d have been digging involuntarily into the floor. As it happens, the second injection was better, but it was better like having my leg broken only once. I hope I don’t need to do this again.

Anyway, it’s doing its thing. I am moving much more smoothly now, and have more complex motion in my walk. I’m still using a cane, and I’m thinking about using the push-chair for at least one more event, but I get around the house and yard entirely under my own power.

Apparently this herniation has been epic. Once she saw that I was up and recovering well, Dr. Ren started using phrases like “Oh my God it’s huge” to describe it. And Dr. Ren does not strike me as someone who says OMG on a regular basis. She’s… see, I perceive her as warm and relaxed, but she doesn’t put a lot into performing “warm and relaxed”, if you know what I mean. I adore her. She’s on exactly the wavelength that works for me. And thank goodness, because undergoing those procedures with someone I did not have a good feeling about would have been twenty times more awful.