Here's the story

Sometime around Thanksgiving, I sat on the couch and leaned over a board game for an hour or so. I realized at the time that my position wasn’t ordinary, but I don’t remember feeling anything that gave me any pain. However, that afternoon’s board game was, I believe, the beginning.

Except that there was another beginning.

In 2000, something snapped in my lower back, causing all kinds of pain. I had surgery which, thankfully, rid me of my pain but left me with a footfall that was barely noticeable. I knew I had it, however, since my gait was clearly affected. If I walked two miles, I was taxed badly; I could work out in the gym, sweat far more profusely, lift weights, do all sorts of things that appeared to burn more calories, but didn’t leave me as sore as simply walking. I’ve always attributed that to the footfall.

 

Sometime after the Thanksgiving back ache, I went in to our doctor because the back pain was increasing and my life was beginning to be affected by that pain. He gave me drugs for the pain and sent me to physical therapy. I happily did what PT wanted me to do, and felt relief. 

I also scheduled treatment from "the pain doctor." I can’t say that I felt much relief from the shots, but at this time someone gave me the nerve drug which appeared to me to have positive effects. There were times—days, even—when I experienced no pain at all. 

Whatever happened at Thanksgiving affected the footfall, however, which became many times worse than it had been. If I didn’t use a cane, I used a walker. For some time then, in the early part of the year, most of my attention was the footfall. 

Then, for no apparent reason, the sciatica returned and increased, and when it became really difficult and painful, I contacted Dr. Jeltema’s nurse to get me an appointment in Dakota Dunes, rather than wait for Dr.  Samuelson, the back surgeon, to come to Orange City. 

Late February, I went to Dakota Dunes and met with him. He looked over the x-rays and told me if I wanted to have surgery, he’d do it—he said he was quite sure he could relieve the pain, but he doubted his ability to do anything about the footfall.

 

He did fit me for a brace that strengthens my walk and definitely does its job. I wear it whenever I leave the house and often while I’m here at home.

When I told Dr. Hansen, by email note, what the surgeon had said, he asked me how I was feeling, pain-wise, and I told him—and it was true—that I wasn’t feeling any pain and hadn’t for about a week, not because of any treatment or drug but because the difficult pain seemingly, on its own, determined to leave.

At that point, Dr. Hansen told me he’d advise that if I didn’t have pain, I should not have surgery. That was fine with me. The pain, however, came back.

I continue to take pain relievers when I need them or anticipate I will need them. Neither seem to relieve the pain well, however. I do take the yellow pills, and, right or wrong, I still attribute to them some significant relief earlier in this story. 

On May 7, I had an appointment with Dr. Hansen, who advised seeing Dr. Muilenburg and a urologist.  One Saturday morning, experiencing lots of pain, I went in and saw Dr. Faber, who was on call. I told him that most of my pain was in my left knee. He ordered x-rays and told me that if there was anything Dr. Muilenburg would see it soon, when I had an appointment with him.

Then, still early May, when very late one sleepless night I was moving slowly around the room, my left knee simply gave way, and did so unexpectedly with the result that all my weight fell directly on to my flexed left foot, the foot affected by sciatic pain.

 

Dr. Muilenburg looked at x-rays of my knee, x-rays that had been taken when I complained of (and had) lots of pain in my left knee. He told me that he’d seen knees in my condition that were replaced, but I told him that, at that time, the most intense pain was no longer in my knee but the foot I’d fallen on. He ordered x-rays of my foot that showed that I’d sprained just about every ligament in and around my foot when I’d fallen on it. 

My left foot, yet this morning, is sore, as is the region all around. The swelling has now gone down some, and most of the colors are thankfully gone, but that foot is still a real problem.

Then, on Memorial Day, something transpired in the house of horrors that is my backyard. Maybe ten carefully calculated steps out of bed, some whiplash happened back there again, but when it did it pushed every needle I could read, no matter which way I turned, into a #10. Not a picnic. I called a couple of people who have back problems who said to go into emergency, where, they said, it was likely I’d get a shot of something akin to morphine, which would at least alleviate the pain.

So off we went, 10:00 or so, to meet with Dr. Faber, who’d dealt with me before and happened to be on call in Emergency. While my suggested treatment wasn’t some form of morphine, he did assign a couple of prescriptions which we’ve picked up and started taking. 

I asked Dr.  Faber about what could be done, and his answer didn’t surprise me. I could return to Dr. Jeltema for another shot (and more perhaps), or I could let Dr. Samuelson, the surgeon, have a shot at my back—he did, after all, let me know he could get rid of pain. 

So that’s where I am right now—my back is very tender and my left leg is really weak. 

I’m writing all of this to explain what the heck is wrong with me. I’m tired of being really tired from lack of sleep from pain at night, pain that arrives unbidden and drives from the groin area down my left thigh and into the knee. My mobility is getting worse and worse. I need a cane or a walker to get around the house and into other buildings. The device the surgeon’s office in Dakota Dunes gave me is wonderful but cumbersome. I don’t go out without it and even wear it around the house. But, honestly, the footfall is the least of my problems. 

Those who read this blog closely must have noticed changes in the last six months. My physical condition has made keeping up difficult. Bear with me. I'm trying to get some strength back.

Thanks for listening to me go on and on.