me to a T - Tracey Odachowski

Today has been a very bad day. One of those that you totally want to forget about. However, my brain doesn’t seem to want to forget and let me go to sleep, so I thought, maybe if I write it down, all will be better.

Pain has been a part of my life for a year and a half now. What started as pregnancy-related sciatica has turned into doctor’s appointments every week. I currently have a primary care manager, a chiropractor, and 4 specialists - pain, orthopedics, cardiology, and neurology. At 29, this is too much for me. Today I have reached my breaking point. And all I’ve done is cry.

My instincts should have told me during the pregnancy with Emily that it was way more than just sciatica. It was intense. I could barely walk. My hip would lock. But every time I told someone about it, I was told that it would go away after delivery. Ok. I’ll believe that. But it didn’t. And still, for nine months after that, I was told it would go away. Here’s some pain medicine. And still, it didn’t. It took losing my disability insurance and a lot of pressure on my part to finally wake up all of these crazy doctors into believing that, in fact, it’s not going away. And I want to know why. And so does the insurance company, because they aren’t going to pay anymore until they know. So, the tests began. It started with an xray of my left hip. Which led to an MRI. Which led to an xray of my right hip. Which led to an ultrasound of my pelvis. Which is leading to two MRAs of each hip in the next two weeks. And the addition of the pain and orthopedic specialists.

You see, while trying to find out what is wrong with my left hip and back, they managed to find something else. Because I needed something else right now. Evidentally, there is some sort of mass called an endochondroma on my right femur. A what? Some sort of density. Don’t know why it’s there. Not a clue. But it is. And, as small as the chance may be at this moment, there is a chance that it is the big C. Cancer. At 29. With 2 kids, a husband and a dog. And an insurance company that doesn’t believe me. I know the likelihood is small, but it’s still there, and it nags me. Having 2 grandmothers that died of cancer doesn’t help. And, most likely if it is cancerous or not, it will have to be removed. Surgically. Because I needed something else on my plate. And, if it is large, that means bone grafting, too. This is all that I was told today when I met my new nurse practitioner. Who set up another orthopedic consult because the first one wasn’t good enough for Tricare to approve. Why? Who knows. I give up trying to figure out all insurance at this point. So, now I have to wait for that appointment to figure out exactly what I face over the next couple of months.

But, back to the left hip. I just keep having this mysterious pain that no one can figure out. The xray was fine. The MRI was fine. The ultrasound was fine. The MRA is ordered. But I’m not fine. I was doing pretty good up until last week. I could actually walk for up to an hour, leisurely, without too much pain. I was only taking the Vicodin once or twice a week. I was actually starting to nag my Chiropractor about going back to work before the bills really stack up. Because, remember, I haven’t had a disability check for 3 months and 5 days now. But then I saw the pain specialist. Who is supposed to take it away. He believes that my sacroiliac nerve and joint was so irritated for so long during the pregnancy, that now it is resistant to treatment and is taking forever to heal. There have been times that it has gotten better, then something happens to make it worse - a fall down the stairs; travelling in the car for more than 45 minutes; having to lie flat for tests. Enter in having to chase two kids around all of the time, and it doesn’t really have the chance to heal. So, he decided to try a steroid injection along the nerve, warning me that sometimes, in women my age, it actually makes things worse, instead of better. Well, consider me the “Sometimes” factor. If it is odd and rare, it will happen to me. So, I have been in excruciating amounts of pain for the past 10 days now. Vicodin and valium every day. And trying to take care of the kids. By the end of the evening, I can’t even sit anymore. I lay on my stomach on the floor while the dog cuddles between my legs and Chris lathers my back and hip with Icy Hot. Hey, I’ll try anything at this point.

So, today, I broke. I’ve cried like a baby. Not only out of fear of what is to come, but what has already been. And what I’m putting my family through, having to be fruggle, worrying about saving money, all because my salary is gone. I swore to myself growing up that I would never worry about money. Yet, here I am. Things are ok now, but how much longer will the savings last? Especially not knowing what lies ahead?

This is what it is like on the other side of the stethoscope. I will never again be the same nurse that I was before.