Injection Day!

YAY! . . . not.

You got it. . . it's a truly terrifying day.

Though I'm putting on a happy face for my family, I'm finding the idea of some doctor injecting my spine in my neck kind of creepy-scary.

I wished I had taken a picture of my MRI to show you what it looked like, but I didn't.
After plodding around on the Google Images site, I found a few examples.

This is a normal MRI of the cervical (neck) spine area. Not my neck.

This next MRI is similar to my cervical spine picture. Also NOT my neck. The bony parts of the spine are jutting into the spinal cord area. Part of my problem is my previous ruptured disc, and continued concussion on the area, resulting in degenerative disc issues. There is also a spinal stenosis, which is a narrowing of the spinal column. This tends to squish everything, resulting in numbness, tingling and pain.

To my knowledge of the procedure, the spine doc is jamming a large, pointy object (big A$$ needle) into one of those spaces and injecting some sort of cortisone-type fluid to decrease the inflammation, which should take care of the problem for now.

Uh, from what I remember on my MRI . . . there wasn't much room to maneuver around in there.
Again, creepy-scary.

So, after this cup of coffee and a banana, I'm fasting for the next 7 hours. Fluid-free in another five hours. Luckily, they'll be giving me an IV that will sedate me for a bit, along with helping me forget what's going on.

My shot is scheduled for 2:30 and I plan to be out of it the rest of the day.

Maybe I'll read.

But then I won't remember what I read, will I?

Guess I could just watch TV when I get home . . . most of what's on right now is forgettable anyway.

Later, Peeps!

Pod Person X 2

UPDATE:
Rotator cuff tear with muscle impingement, a cyst AND fluid on the joint. 

This is totally BIZZARO considering that other than slight pain upon making certain movements AND tingly nerve pain along with some numbness, I have full range of motion with this shoulder. Orthopedic appointment on Friday for the next step in the saga.
 
An MRI machine is much like being in one of those eggs from The Matrix movie . . . without the gick. Or a cryotube from Futurama, Star Trek, or any other science fiction movie.
 
I could totally see someone freaking out in one of these . . . or getting stuck.
 
I'm not a large person and when the bed slid in and out of the machine my arms were touching the sides. Once inside I had a couple of inches of clearance above my face, but that's it.
 
I will say there are two good things about getting an MRI:

• ear plugs
• warm blanket

Yep, that's about it.
 
Okay, so it isn't that bad unless you forget to urinate or have an indescribable urge to scratch some part of your body . . . make that ANY part of your body. I just closed my eyes and tried to think about my picture book story. . .
 
The problem is that the clangs, clunks, trills, machine shaking, etc. are all very distracting. Though the MRI scan might take 30 minutes, it's actually broken down into a variety of different scans lasting from 2.5-5.5 minutes each.
 
Well, at least this shoulder one was.
 
Okay, I guess I should start at the beginning.
 
I arrive at the imaging center at about 8 AM. The place was already packed--they do more than MRI's here. And I fill out two long forms. I had the foresight to write down my medications--only three--and then promptly forgot the list at home. Two are asthma meds and one is the recent prescription of pain meds the doctor just ordered.
 
So I guessed at the spelling.
 
Then I had to remember my surgeries, luckily I only had three of them, too! I can't imagine how hard it would be for some of these patients who have numerous surgeries over a couple of years. I wouldn't be able to keep them straight. The main thing they were worried about was if any metal was inserted during the surgeries.
 
That would be considered A BAD THING if you went into the MRI machine and thought "Ooops!Don't I have a metal rod in my back?"
 
It really wasn't that bad.
 
There was a nice changing room with a locker. I could keep my shorts on since only my upper half was being MRI'ed, but I had to leave my phone, Kindle, earrings, and watch along with my clothes. I took the key into the room and the tech left it on the window sill.
 
To tell you the truth, I wasn't paying very much attention to the room or machine at this time. Probably due to nerves, though I did notice a room with a huge window that the tech was in during the scans.
 
Anyhoo, I lay on this narrow bed that slides into the machine. The tech puts this uncomfortable rubbery 'thing' over my left shoulder, my arm is fixed in a foam sleeve with my thumb facing up, earplugs are inserted, and I'm given a rubber "O. M. G. I'm FREAKING in here." pump to squeeze if I need to come out quickly.
 
Oh, yeah, and the blankie . . . those wonderful warm blankies. That's the best part.

As I mentioned the individual scans didn't take too long and I was home by 9:15. . . just enough time to backwash the pool and start piddling around outside.

Then I get a call. "Can you come back?"

"Ruh-roh, Scooby-Doo!" I thought. But I didn't have anything planned other than picking up the kidlet's glasses, which happens to be across the street from the Imaging Center.

The second time I become a pod person, I have an IV in my arm for some contrast media to be injected into the port. The media, as I was told, will brighten some areas to help the radiologist differentiate the problem area.

The same routine happens, except this time the kidlet is in the waiting room. They take a couple of scans to set up a baseline, and then they inject me with contrast media.

Think about how rubbing alcohol smells.

Got it?

Now, think about how it tastes and invades your sinuses.

Yeah, that's what it's like.

And it isn't even very fun when you pee it out. I wanted it to be fluorescent green or some other fun color so I could freak the kid out, but alas, it wasn't any fun. :-(

So they take another series of scans with the contrast media, yank the IV out and send me on my way.

It's weird but this was the one time I didn't bother to pre-diagnose myself, probably because I suspected the numbness stemmed from my previous neck surgery. Well, I call hubs and then we both start playing on the Internet.

Remember, this is pure speculation:

• I could have a paralabral cyst that is pressing on my nerve, or many other types of cysts
• or a neuroma, or other tumors

They each have their issues and treatments, but sometimes just having a name to pin to a situation is comforting--even if there is nothing you can do about fixing the problem.

All I can do wait until I hear from my doctor.

Speculating at this time re: treatment would drive me insane as there is NOTHING I can do except worry about various scenarios.

Why put myself through the worry? All it does is increase the stress, which makes my fingers more tingly and numb.

So I think it's time to take my morning walk. I'll post an update on this blog when I know something.

Later, Peeps!

 

MRI

Today I'm heading in to the imaging center bright and early, so I wrote this short blog Sunday night.

My shoulder will have an MRI and I'm scared. . . not because I'm afraid they will find something but because I'm afraid they won't.

Deep down, I think the problem stems from my neck issues (ruptured disc) of 21 years ago. The numbness and pain has a familiar feel to it similar to the pain from those many years ago, and since they won't be MRIing my neck there won't be anything to show up on the shoulder MRI.

But no sense in worry about something I have no power over.

When the docs have the answers, so will I.

Later, Peeps!