One Hell of a Wakeup Call


What a 48 hours it has been, y’all.

After straining my back on Friday afternoon, waking up on Saturday and realizing there was no getting me out of bed, and having the fire truck come along with the ambulance because even with an IV of fentanyl I could not get seated on my bed (as getting to a 45 degree angle had me screaming in pain), they actually had to put me onto one of those tarps in order to get me onto the gurney because the gurney wouldn’t fit into our bedroom. ( guess that’s what happens when you have a king size bed that takes up our entire tiny bedroom). It was an incredibly surreal experience being transported that way and into an ambulance which was about as comfortable as being in the back of a bike trailer. The primary EMT though I will say was really incredible… since you have to tell them about any recent medical treatment and medications you are and have recently been on, naturally IVF came up and it turns out she went through it unsuccessfully, coming close to death in the process because of certain protocols that were used that affected her body in a dangerous way ( ironically it was at the university hospital in my town that I was not able to get into for several months so never made an appointment with… she mentioned it was also the most expensive IVF of all three clinics). A Saturday night over Thanksgiving weekend was incredibly slow in the ER which was wonderful,  so I was taken care of very quickly. (My only complaint through the whole process is that not one person told the next person coming  into my room what my situation was and what medications I’ve been on –  golly gee I guess looking at charts are a thing of the past? When you’re in a certain amount of pain it’s hard to keep describing over and over what has been going on simply because they don’t bother to look at your chart or that they never took good enough notes for the person before them).

Biggest kudos goes to the physical therapists that I worked with both last night and this morning, as they were smart and sassy and funny… and just as importantly knew their shit. When I was still on the god awful concrete like bed in the ER,  it was almost funny because they were trying to get me to roll over onto my side but that would basically put me on the precipice of actually falling off this tiny little bed. At one point I had to let go of all of my control and fear issues and put my arms all the way around the physical therapist as she and the other nurse literally picked me up from laying down to seated and standing up in one fairly efficient fluid motion, as my back went into one of the worst spasms of my life, I screamed in her ear,  turned ashen gray immediately was drenched in sweat, doing everything in my power to keep my eyes open continue breathing so that I wouldn’t faint or throw up ( the latter I was more afraid of because I almost puked at home before the EMT came, which caused a massively terrifying painful spasm). But they kept it positive and supportive and my husband was absolutely thrilled at how well they took care of me the whole time, so I never felt embarrassed or weird about swearing, and really helped me get over being ashamed of my weakness and vulnerability, since I cried so many times during the process just from the simple overwhelming emotion, not as much from hurting my back from this being during the interim after the failed 5th cycle and frustration of waiting for my period to start.

After moving me from the ER into my own room,  naturally it was the end of a shift and I got an all new team  and after having 3 bites of scrambled eggs in the morning, finally by about 8 o’clock I got some broth and crackers. They had given me more fentanyl and more valium and an amplified version of ibuprofen and none of them had worked, eventually I got an anti nausea in my IV and a couple of oxy which finally made the pain bearable and allowed me to go to sleep for about 7 hours. 

This morning my husband came back at around 7 a.m. as he had have to spend the night at home since we have our dog there, and went through more medications and another round of physical therapy to give me exercises to strengthen my very messed up back.  Fortunately the treatment for disc issues and strains is almost identical and so they didn’t think it was worth having an x-ray, and an MRI was out of the question not only because of the treatment being the same but also because to get a back MRI requires that you lean over and touch your toes! WTF. Like that’s going to happen with an injured back. 

So I finally got discharged in the early afternoon on Sunday and have been going back and forth walking around the house and resting, but of course not resting too much as I have to switch positions and do exercises frequently. I’ll be trying to get into physical therapy this week, I’m going to need to do that for several weeks at a very minimum to get me in full recovery. Happy holidays to me!

Anyhow it’s good to be home and I appreciate all of the nice emails and comments I received about this. My crazy fucked-up week?

But I consider this entire thing a wake-up call and while it was and still is quite negative, I have to turn it into a positive and use this as motivation to bring back the old Aimee who took good care of her body and didn’t let depression or anxiety stop her. Not just for the sake of my back, but for my soul as well.

Ciao my friends…

8 thoughts on “One Hell of a Wakeup Call

  1. Good to hear you are back home, nothing like your own bed and the comfort of your love’s arms around you.
    Best of good wishes for progress in your recovery and further strengthening of your back.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Oh goodness! I had missed this post somehow, until I saw your comment on my blog. Oh, I’m sorry to hear this! I hope you feel better.


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