If you follow along Instagram or my new Facebook site (whoop whoop!) you already know that I was fortunate enough to have a last minute MRI appointment this week. I know we’ve been discussing The Story of Kate and I will continue to fill in those blanks but for right now we are fast forwarding our story to today. I think its obvious at this point that my Spine Surgery did not have the exact desired result. I have not returned to work, in any capacity, whatsoever. There is still much wrong with me that hopefully we can “manage.” I don’t want to say ‘fix’ because it gives the impression that it’s fixable and at this point I have no expectation that I will regain my former function. One of the many tear-filled conversations with my specialist stuck with me, this time he was awkward and spent a lot of time looking at his shoes, I can see what he’s wearing, he still had the mega glasses he uses for my injections hanging round his neck. ‘You will most likely never regain the high functioning status you had before.’ That phrase has stuck with me. I got it, it’s not realistic to set those kind of expectations at this point. My hope is that they are able to figure out my pain a little better and I could have better quality of life.
Am I okay with leaving flying? NO. No I’m not. I had more to do, more to offer, more to give, more to learn. So lets skip forward a few therapy sessions, I am working on creating new goals, replacing old visions with new, and focusing on the present happiness. We spend too much time searching for happiness while forgetting to experience what is right now. Right now I have an amazing family, a beautiful home, great friends (that;s you!) and I have to admit it’s a little scary but also exciting to dive into something new.
Back to my MRI, before I went to the MRI I pre-briefed them that I twitch. My MRI’s always come out with “degraded due patient motion.” This is one of my fabulous side effects. It is probably one of my least favourite side effects. This is where we skip a couple chapters so lets do the coles notes: At some point during the course of my injury my Central Nervous System (CNS) has become “hyper-charged.” The best was I can explain it is have you ever had the rubber hammer reflex tests on your elbows and knees? Well I do not need a special hammer, you can touch it with your finger and my legs react willy nily. Use a hammer and I black out. This hyper charge also makes me very sensitive to just about everything, light, sound, touch, vibration and do you know what vibrates…..?? Cars, subways, the MRI machine!!! (You totally though I was going to same something else didn’t you? You shameless philty scoundrells! lol)
I showed up and the first thing I said to the technitions was I twitch, I’m sorry. We had discussed it the day before and it was suggested perhaps I discuss a mild sedative with my dr. We’ve already tried that and I think that one may have been of worst of them all. The more mellow I am apparently the more I twitch. Jack (small human) has asked me why I kick him when we sleep together. I apologize profusely and tell him I try but it’s out of my control.
This was the fastest referral time, and sweetest MRI I have ever been through, go Toronto!
The MRI room is a nice white room with a giant white donut apparatus. They were so nice and kind, they gave me a warm blanket and tucked me right in and then stuffed me into the donut.
The MRI itself is just a lot of vibrations, sound, noise, humming, etc. They do a number of scans and it should take about 20 minutes, I think we were double. They were so patient and repeated all the scans that I twitched in until they got them right. The technician was so sweet and after we were chatting as they unstrapped everything. She looked at me with sad eyes and touched my arm and said, ‘You must have had a terrible accident.’ I don’t know why but that moment, those eyes and I broke my game face. It’s those little moments when someone with knowledge, someone who’s seen my scans and drs reports, in those moments I can see it in their eyes and I’m filled with this crushing realization that it is in fact that bad, and the air sucks out of my lungs and tears start to sneak out. I just want to cry and be held.
It’s not fair.
with love Kate