Backed Up
I feel like my blogging is . . . lacking. Probably because it is.
September has been absolutely nuts, and last week was just the epitome of said nuttiness. One particular Saturday morning, Chris complained that his lower back was just . . . effed up. Well, he has always had back and shoulder issues (thanks, high school football), so I was mildly concerned but not that concerned.
I took Charlotte to gymnastics early that morning and then we ran errands. My handbag, with my phone, was at the bottom of the Target cart, so it wasn't until I got back to the car that I saw 14 million missed calls and texts from Chris, all along the lines WHERE ARE YOU?! I immediately called home, and Chris was flat on his back, the muscles seizing. He had shuffled into his haircut appointment that morning with Lorelei, and his stylist had had to put our girl into her car seat after. Lorelei was napping now, but Chris knew he couldn't get her if (when) she woke up. Of course, I was 45 minutes away. I begged forgiveness and sped toward home, successfully getting there before Lorelei woke up.
Chris was crooked. Literally crooked, shaped like a hook. I handled the girls and household, fetched ibuprofen, and kneaded Chris's back (terrified I'd screw something up) for the rest of the day. The next morning, Chris was no better. He was teaching Sunday school, poor guy, so he dragged himself to church, texting me "I have to come home!" from the class. Well, he made it through Sunday school and then came home, but I had to do the scripture reading during the second service, so we passed each other on the way to/from the church. It was a bit chaotic.
Chris spent the rest of Sunday watching football. I told him to rest and enjoy it. I mean, the alternative was to fret and NOT enjoy it. He couldn't move, so that was that. Decision made. Overall, Chris stayed in good spirits and handled the pain and forced idleness like a champ. I was actually pretty impressed.
By Monday, I was a bit . . . tired, and I had a book to put to press that week. Chris stayed home and worked and tried to get a doctor's appointment. All the orthopedic docs were booked until Thursday, so his general doctor squeezed him in at the of the day. A quirky, older woman who does all of her clinical reasoning via external monologue that's always weirdly fascinating, she told Chris she had never seen something quite like this. It was after-hours at this point, so she called an orthopedic friend, who suggested Valium for the spasms and told Chris to call the next day and FORCE the receptionist to give him a same-day appointment.
The Valium helped relax Chris's back and successfully stopped the spasms. Yay. But he was still VERY sore and tight from compensating for the crookedness with other back muscles. On Tuesday, Chris visited the orthopedic doctor, who wasn't terribly concerned but ordered x-rays to be safe. Done. He came back in, completely surprised. Not only did Chris have a vertebrae totally out of place, but he also was diagnosed with early-onset arthritis.
This was not good news.
From how we understand it, the arthritis contributed to the spasms surrounding the dislocated vertebrae. "Did you play football?" the doctor asked. Chris said yes, and apparently it was the very heavy lifting during training that likely contributed to (but probably didn't cause) this sucker coming out of place. The arthritis, I believe, is mostly genetic.
The doctor said another episode will happen again, there is nothing that can fix or stop it, and all that can be done is slowing it down with stretching the back and strengthening the core. So, it looks like all those yoga DVDs from my achy pregnancy days are gonna get some use.
Chris got an uber powerful steroid to treat the inflammation, which worked wonders, and he felt well enough to take Charlotte camping by the weekend. (THAT is my next post.)
Meanwhile, as all this was going on, I had one of the worst days in the history of my career at work. I can't really elaborate, but between Wednesday and Friday, things got really, really bad then got pretty much worked out by late Friday afternoon. Oh, and I sent another book to press. By Friday evening, I was so exhausted, I fell asleep on the couch, only half-way through a glass of wine.
During the weekend, while Chris and Charlotte camped, Lorelei battled an icky cold. Although I wished my one-on-one time with my littlest girl had involved less fussiness, I was relieved that Charlotte was out of the house during the peak snottiness, and it seems she dodged the germs and catching her sister's bug. Also, I was able to give Lorelei ALL of my attention while she felt pretty blah, and I was grateful for that. She's now back to her perky self.
This past week has gone far more smoothly. It has been busy but manageable. So, we'll take it.
September has been absolutely nuts, and last week was just the epitome of said nuttiness. One particular Saturday morning, Chris complained that his lower back was just . . . effed up. Well, he has always had back and shoulder issues (thanks, high school football), so I was mildly concerned but not that concerned.
I took Charlotte to gymnastics early that morning and then we ran errands. My handbag, with my phone, was at the bottom of the Target cart, so it wasn't until I got back to the car that I saw 14 million missed calls and texts from Chris, all along the lines WHERE ARE YOU?! I immediately called home, and Chris was flat on his back, the muscles seizing. He had shuffled into his haircut appointment that morning with Lorelei, and his stylist had had to put our girl into her car seat after. Lorelei was napping now, but Chris knew he couldn't get her if (when) she woke up. Of course, I was 45 minutes away. I begged forgiveness and sped toward home, successfully getting there before Lorelei woke up.
Chris was crooked. Literally crooked, shaped like a hook. I handled the girls and household, fetched ibuprofen, and kneaded Chris's back (terrified I'd screw something up) for the rest of the day. The next morning, Chris was no better. He was teaching Sunday school, poor guy, so he dragged himself to church, texting me "I have to come home!" from the class. Well, he made it through Sunday school and then came home, but I had to do the scripture reading during the second service, so we passed each other on the way to/from the church. It was a bit chaotic.
Chris spent the rest of Sunday watching football. I told him to rest and enjoy it. I mean, the alternative was to fret and NOT enjoy it. He couldn't move, so that was that. Decision made. Overall, Chris stayed in good spirits and handled the pain and forced idleness like a champ. I was actually pretty impressed.
By Monday, I was a bit . . . tired, and I had a book to put to press that week. Chris stayed home and worked and tried to get a doctor's appointment. All the orthopedic docs were booked until Thursday, so his general doctor squeezed him in at the of the day. A quirky, older woman who does all of her clinical reasoning via external monologue that's always weirdly fascinating, she told Chris she had never seen something quite like this. It was after-hours at this point, so she called an orthopedic friend, who suggested Valium for the spasms and told Chris to call the next day and FORCE the receptionist to give him a same-day appointment.
 |
| See that pained look on his face? The Valium hadn't kicked in yet. And the girls didn't seem to care. |
This was not good news.
From how we understand it, the arthritis contributed to the spasms surrounding the dislocated vertebrae. "Did you play football?" the doctor asked. Chris said yes, and apparently it was the very heavy lifting during training that likely contributed to (but probably didn't cause) this sucker coming out of place. The arthritis, I believe, is mostly genetic.
The doctor said another episode will happen again, there is nothing that can fix or stop it, and all that can be done is slowing it down with stretching the back and strengthening the core. So, it looks like all those yoga DVDs from my achy pregnancy days are gonna get some use.
Chris got an uber powerful steroid to treat the inflammation, which worked wonders, and he felt well enough to take Charlotte camping by the weekend. (THAT is my next post.)
Meanwhile, as all this was going on, I had one of the worst days in the history of my career at work. I can't really elaborate, but between Wednesday and Friday, things got really, really bad then got pretty much worked out by late Friday afternoon. Oh, and I sent another book to press. By Friday evening, I was so exhausted, I fell asleep on the couch, only half-way through a glass of wine.
During the weekend, while Chris and Charlotte camped, Lorelei battled an icky cold. Although I wished my one-on-one time with my littlest girl had involved less fussiness, I was relieved that Charlotte was out of the house during the peak snottiness, and it seems she dodged the germs and catching her sister's bug. Also, I was able to give Lorelei ALL of my attention while she felt pretty blah, and I was grateful for that. She's now back to her perky self.
This past week has gone far more smoothly. It has been busy but manageable. So, we'll take it.
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