This won't hurt a bit..... just relax

Previously, I wrote about my first MRI and the aftermath. Not being a candidate for what boils down to a simple same-day procedure to fix a bulged disc, made me realize I may just be imagining my pain to be worse than it was. I've never been a real fan of pain and I commonly find it beneficial to use any level of pain as a way to get sympathy or get out of doing things I don't want to.

The surgeon that so comically denied me the procedure I expected suggested a spinal injection which he claimed is highly successful for pansies like me. If you haven't experienced the pleasure of this type of injection, the follow is a firsthand description of what you may expect during it, from my point of view of course.

After checking in with the receptionist, I was ceremoniously escorted to a ready room. There was a TV, recliner and a very nice nurse taking my medical history. So far, so good. As time for the injection approached my nerves began to fray just a little due to the unknown variables of the adventure ahead. A pair of health professionals herded me to the injection room like a lamb where I was turned over to a team of masochistic lions wearing gowns and masks. Their warm greeting almost seemed genuine. It actually was. They were very nice, but that hardly fits into the story at this point.

Before I continue, I'd like qualify that my medical knowledge and terminology is only composed of what I gleaned from two episodes of ER 20 years ago. So either laugh with me or laugh at me. Either is perfectly acceptable.

Once I was lying face down on the table and positioned for the injection, an ice-cold application of reddish-brown liquid was applied generously to my lower back area. That wasn't unpleasant at all compared to the initial "stick" of the needle. It always cracks me up when they say: "You might feel a little pressure" when given an injection. What they really mean is, "hold on to something, this is going to suck"

My understanding of what happens during this procedure is they use an x-ray machine to help the Dr. guide the #2 pencil-sized needle into my spine and find a little area to squirt stuff. They squirt a lot of stuff apparently because the pressure built to the point that I was sure he was literally sawing my body in half, starting between my 4th and 5th lumbar vertebra. This part of it supposedly makes room for the medicine they put in next. Let me tell ya, when that happens I found a whole new meaning of screaming like a little girl. The pressure was so intense for so long I can't believe I didn't pass out. Finally, the Dr. announced that the procedure was over and I was free to quit whimpering.

The injection worked and I was mostly pain free for a couple of years. Thank goodness I listened to my two friends Mike and Lori, that work at that facility and talked me into going through with it. It wouldn't be the last time they were involved in my care and certainly not the weirdest. 

MRI's and Manly Men

As a life long over-analyzer you would think I should have everything figured out by this time in life. It simply isn't the case. In fact nothing could be further from the truth. Take for instance my failures at the Imaging Center where I have been scheduled to have MRI's for a slightly bulged disc in my lower back. This was in hopes that a surgeon could perform a simple procedure to fix it. Microdiscetomy is the actual term. I hate to use words like that however, because people might think I'm smarter than I really am. Living up to that reputation would not possible for me. I was lucky to even spell it right. 

I've struggled on and off for five years with a bit of discomfort and rarely pain bad enough to register on the "Scale of One to Ten Chart" nurses get such a kick out of asking patients at clinics, hospitals, or sister-in-laws' houses. One fact no one who knows me will deny is I have the pain tolerance of a four-year-old girl. No offense to four-year-old girls. That's just my perception. When you see me sweating and wincing in obvious pain, it is likely equivalent to a stubbed toe or hangnail on an average person.

Several years ago I had my first MRI. I had no idea what to expect, so I had no fear of it either. During the short interview that preceded the MRI, the nice lady asked if I was claustrophobic. I answered, "Of course not" as I puffed out my chest in such a manly manner. "four-year-old girls are claustrophobic, not manly men such as myself" Her chuckle at my claim of manliness must have been induced by her years of experience working with patients like myself.  

Sparing you most of the embarrassing details, I will just say when the 24 minute test had finally completed and I was out of the tube, the scrubs they provided for my comfort were completely soaked with perspiration, my heart rate was 190, my blood pressure was 224/176 and I was now aware of the fact that I was indeed quite claustrophobic.

Later that afternoon I had an appointment to see the surgeon to talk about the details of the upcoming surgery. Instead of telling me when and where the surgery would take place, he entered the examination room and said, "I'd love for you to help me with my pick-up payment next month, but there's just no reason to do surgery. It's not bad enough. I do want you to tighten your core and lose 20 pounds. That should help that little bulge go right back where it belongs. Also, take fish oil as a supplement" Through my unmatched analytic ability, I translated what he said as, "Your tummy is too big and you look like a heart-attack waiting to happen" Thanks Doc, I do own a mirror you know.