Let me go back a bit, back a few months.
After suffering with increased levels of pain since around October, I went to my GP. Unwillingly. But I was told that I couldn’t carry on in the way I was by the husband. So in gave in.
I told her something was wrong, something wasn’t right. I was dismissed as having “a back flare” and to count my self lucky that I was only at week 4 of this pain, as “usually back flares can last more than 6 weeks”. Shown the door, and on my merry way – and I mean literally.
Lucky?! Are you f*cking kidding me. What is lucky about this?
In what appeared to be an instant , we reverted back to the “its in your head, “it’s nothing to worry about”, “here take a tablet”. Nah, I don’t think so. When you can’t sleep at night for this horrendous pain, can’t walk in the morning, fall constantly without warning, your legs give up all of a sudden and you face plant the floor, you can’t walk by the end of the day, You are sick, exhausted and worn out – THEN come and tell me “it’s just a back flare”.
So I called my Pain Specialist. He saw me within 2 weeks. I have never seen him so angry at the way I was treated, disgusted is probably more the correct word to use. Within 5 minutes (no exaggeration), he had written out a referral form for a new MRI and checked my lower back. I broke down. I sat there in tears. Despair had kicked in. Desperation reared its ugly head. And with reassurance that he would find out what was wrong, and the most helpful inviting expression, I was on my way home. Relieved, so utterly relieved that someone believed me. Someone was finally listening to me, someone cared.
So after my MRI, I reveived a call from Mr Pain man, and was told that he didn’t think it was my disc again (thank god!!) and that it may possibly be a severe disc infection. But because he couldnt be sure he was going to have to put me back to my Surgeon.
So, I was called in to see the surgeon. Nervous as hell. Was it the disc, I mean he didn’t think so, but then he wasn’t exactly sure. Everything rolled through my head that day, even my worse case scenario and what i need to do to prepare for more surgery. Thankfully my hubby appeared in the waiting room, totally unexpected. I have never been so pleased to have him there. If the waiting room hadn’t have been so busy id have hugged him and cried.
“Katrina” was called from the corridor.
Here we go……..