I had the blood patch today and I swear to you, it almost ended my marriage, but that’s beside the point.

We arrived 15 minutes late (it RAINED in Los Angeles today and for whatever reason, water falling from the sky erases the all the driving memories of Californian drivers and subsequently they CANNOT operate a motor vehicle) to get bloodwork to check my clotting factors. My favorite part of this experience was when they asked me for my referral from my student health center. TO GET MY BLOOD DRAWN. Internets, this is why we need health care reform.

Anyways, after we got that sorted out (hey, you know what you don’t want to do when I’ve been fasting for 12 hours? Deal with insurance stupidity. That’s what.) the blood was drawn and we had a 2 hour break before the actual blood patch. So we went to my sister’s house, where her scary dog tried to prevent me from peeing and we napped until we had to leave. Because not being able to eat really only lends itself to sleeping.

We checked in at 10:45 (being on time is so overrated) and were called back around 11:15.

I guess I hadn’t quite understood the difference between the blood patch and the LP. Because I walked into a room of x-ray machines and computer monitors.

We were not in neurological Kansas anymore.

This time, they were doing the needle insertion with fluoroscopy, which helps ensure a more precise needle placement, and avoids, you know, hitting my bones 4 times.

They kicked Slappy out this time, put me on my stomach (which made the headache SO much worse) and then began.

And it went something like this: numb, insert the needle part way, x-ray, push the needle in further (that’s what she said), x-ray, feel resistance and think they hit bone, x-ray, discover it was ligaments, push the needle in more, x-ray, confirm location, x-ray.

And when they finally got the needle in properly, after what felt like a lifetime of digging and sterilizing radiation, they drew some blood from my arm and injected it into my back (and took an x-ray).

And I did not feel the instantaneous relief everyone said I would. Which sucked. But after lying down for a few minutes, it got a little better. And it stayed a little better. It’s only in the past hour or so that the pain has picked up a little, and it is, admittedly better. (Note that the “normal” headache is unchanged, it’s the shiny new headache I’m referring to)

I’d also somehow managed to block out just how freaking much it hurt my back last time (I guess a week of NEW SHINY headaches will do that), but DUDES, it hurts. And I want my head to be better like right. this. second. And it’s not. But I was warned by the neurologist and by the radiologist that it might not work. That it might take several of these patches to work (super?) and to be patient.

Which is pretty much my middle name. Especially when you consider my new first name of NOT.

So I’m resting. I really REALLY want to go back to school tomorrow afternoon, but right now it feels a little doubtful.

And, shhhh, don’t tell anyone, but dudes, I’m going to Las Vegas this weekend (for the record, I actually got permission from my mom and my husband). Not flying there, driving, and I will do my fair share of resting, I PROMISE. I desperately need a change of scenery and my friend Tiffany is having a kickass conference. Even if I spend the entire weekend in the bed there, at least it’s a new bed.

And It’s a chance for me to not sit on my couch and google the brain surgery that I fear I’ll be scheduling in the all-to-near future.

So that’s where I am. I’ve been patched, but I am still broken. I am broken, but I am not giving up.

Yet.

2 Responses to “Patched, but still broken”