Lessons from Mommy's Back Sprain and Slipped Disc

The pain which used to be part of my life, which I've accustomed to, suddenly became unbearable. To a point where I would heave an excruciating cry of agony from the slightest adjustment in my sleeping position. I couldn't get out of bed and my legs gave way twice last week; not being able to withstand my body weight. Even a morning stretch when I wake would cause me to wince in pain. I was so afraid of sneezing because when I do, it felt like a bone snapped in my back. 

This back issue of mine is the bane of my life.

I can sprain it from the slightest movements: 

- picking up a piece of paper from the chair before sitting down

- waking up one day from the wrong side of the bed

- carrying baby Ewan from the play mat

- a regular day wiping the dining table

- an innocent sneeze

The last back issue I had was just last month when I was sitting at the table replying emails. I sneezed and then I sprained my back. 

When will this end? I live my days through these pain and would continue to trudge through the days even if it shot down my thighs and legs. Because that day Faye had her first horseback riding lesson and I did not want to miss a thing. Because I did not intend to break the Universal Studios Singapore promise to Ewan. And because it was Gypsie's first time at the beach and I really do want to be present as a mom to witness the milestone. Despite the agony, I'd carried my DSLR, eye through the viewfinder, tip-toeing or squatting just to get the perfect picture. I find joy in witnessing those moments. But how unkind I had been to myself.

This theory of not prioritising oneself is erroneous. Now, it's time I paid back. 

Last week when the pain was no longer manageable, I visited my usual acupuncturist who always seems to solve my back issues with some needles and electricity. Unfortunately, it remained unresolved and got worst than it already was. This was the first time I couldn't feel the twitching of the needles on my head, neck, arms and back even though electricity was running through them. Of course I did bring them up but she said she could see the jumping which meant, it was working. Hmmm why couldn't I feel them?

I was advised to get an MRI done to check if there were bigger problems like a slipped disc. 

Saw a third doctor in the same week, our trusty family orthopaedic Dr Lim Yi-Jia, and he sent me on my way into that loud and unpleasant MRI machine at the snap of a finger. 

L5, S1. 

A herniated disc at lumbar segment 4 and 5 usually cause L5 nerve impingement. Where the arrow is below, the "cushioning" is gone. 

I really did suffer a slipped disc on top of a very bad back sprain. The MRI showed water around my bones which meant it is currently inflamed. Maybe infected too.

A procedure to bring down the swelling is necessary before physiotherapy be put in place. With that, I was booked into an Operating Theatre for Wednesday 16 June 2021. I won't be cut opened but six surgical needles will go into my back with steroids to try solve this problem. Sedation is required because the needles were going in deep. With the IV line, I had anaesthesia, painkillers, antibiotics and hydration juice. Oh this familiar unwelcome buddy of mine.

One hour later when I woke up from the procedure, I felt super parched. I guess that was why hydration was required. I hadn't eaten or drank for more than 12 hours after all. Then with the energy I could summon in between consciousness and unconsciousness, I waved to a nurse and asked her why my arms and body felt so hot. As if I had fever. 

"You were shivering uncontrollably at the table. So we put the heat pad." She explained. I still had the heat pad with me when they wheeled me to the recovery room. It's great to be taken care of like that. 

Ahhhhhhhh! It must have been after my sedation because I couldn't remember a thing. I do recall how I ended up shivering like a fish out of water when anaesthesia was administered in me for my emergency C-sect with Ewan. The nurses had to scramble to get hot water bottles and put them all around me to get me to stop shivering. 

The experience leading up to the Operation Theatre wasn't a pleasant one. 

I cried in private. 

Just when I had it all planned to have Meyer put everything aside to be with me that entire day, [my experience from two years ago taught me better] we were told that he could stay with me only for a miserly 20 minutes! I stood there in shock snowballing a series of questions. 

"He cannot go to the OT waiting bay with me? I have to wait there all alone for an hour?"

"He cannot stay with me till I go?"

"When do I see him then?"

"Oh my goodness. I had such a bad and scary experience two years ago that I made sure he's with me today and he still cannot be with me!"

Oh you sneaky lousy COVID-19! It's all because of you I started getting anxiety for nothing.

My nurse waved him away and told him to come back when it was time for me to discharge. Tears welled up my eyes as I see him go. I changed into my gown, sat by my hospital bed tearing and then I texted him, "What's the point of you coming back at discharge. I need you now the most. Why don't you come back and claim that 20 minutes now before I head into the OT instead of later? I'll get the porter to send me down later to the driveway when you come pick me up." 

Meyer left the hospital already but drove back with a Tiong Bahru Bakery croissant which I can only eat after. Oh thank goodness he came back. I felt much better.

I didn't want to feel or be silly like this. I learnt that small or big procedures doesn't make a difference to how one feels when going into that cold bright room with machines beeping. As much as I can remember, I had eight people in the Operating Theatre with me but none are my family. There is bound to be anxiety even if the whole world thinks I'm made of steel.

*haha* I realised I exude that impression of myself when my cousin texted me, "Aren't you made of steel?" 

At discharge, the same nurse who was with me at admission checked my blood pressure for the last time. She laughed and said, "Ah! NOW your BP reads the right numbers. Earlier today when your husband left, you were very scared right? I know because your BP was off the charts; not possible for a person your size. I didn't want to tell you because I was afraid I'd make you feel worse."

So there. My facial expression can be masked but my numbers can never lie.

What have we learnt here? Never be unkind to yourself unless you can bear the consequences that come with it. 

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