Initially my doctor thought it was just tension/stress. So I started going to massage therapy once a week. While that seemed to help in some ways, in others I continued to get worse. Next, they thought it was signs of carpal tunnel syndrome, so I was sent to a neurologist for EMG and nerve conduction tests. He also ordered an MRI of my neck. The EMG and NCS came back fine, no nerve damage. The MRI showed that I have 4 bulging disks in my neck that are pinching and/or pressing into my nerves/spinal canal/cord.  He sent me to see a neurosurgeon to get his opinion on whether or not I needed surgery or if physical therapy might help.

The neurosurgeon wasted no time in telling me I needed to have Anterior Cervical Discectomy and Fusion to remove 3 discs from my neck. Based on my symptoms and pain levels, he said it would only get worse and that I could have permanent damage, even paralysis, if I didn’t have the surgery soon. He suggested within the next month. Not at all what I was expecting to hear so it completely freaked me out and scared the crap out of me.

Of course I wanted a 2nd opinion, so after collecting a number of recommendations from people, I went to see an orthopedic surgeon. He said, ultimately, yes, surgery is the answer but that I am far too young to have this kind of surgery right off the bat. If we could manage the pain, we could at least delay it for awhile. Then it would just be a matter of what I could live with. So he started me off on pill pack of steroids and said if they were going to help, I should see a noticeable difference within a few days. If not, then the next option was to do an injection in my neck and see how I responded to that. I didn’t see any improvement from the pills so now have scheduled the injection for Monday.

Meanwhile, Mom took a copy of my MRI to a friend of hers from church who she has known forever and who is an orthopedic doctor who treated her for a similar problem in the past. According to Mom, he is one of the most anti-surgery doctor she knows. He thinks I should go ahead and try the injection, that it might buy me some time, but believes I will need to have this surgery soon. Again, not what I was hoping to hear.

My aunt in Memphis had this exact type of surgery done a few years ago. Her neurosurgeon is apparently one of the first to do this type of surgery and is considered an authority on it. So she took a copy of my MRI to him this week to get his opinion. It will probably be Tuesday before we hear anything back on that.

At this point, I have 1 neurosurgeon telling me I need the surgery ASAP, 1 orthopedic surgeon telling me if we can control the pain I can try and live with it but ultimately will need surgery at some point, and 1 ortho telling me to try and get relief from the pain but I will need the surgery in the near future. I’m anxious to hear back from the 2nd neurosurgeon on whether or not he thinks I could have more problems/damage by waiting. That’s the last bit of info I’m looking for clarity on now. I’ve been told that the surgery would involve a couple of days in the hospital, anywhere from 2 to 12 weeks recovery, about 8 weeks in a neck brace, and 8 weeks of no driving. Needless to say, if it comes to that, Mom will move in with me for awhile!

On Monday afternoon, I’m going in for a Cervical Epidural Steroid Injection. It is an outpatient procedure but I will have to be sedated, so Mom is driving up Sunday evening to go with me and drive me home afterwards. She has had this same procedure done before and says it is nothing to worry about, but I worry about everything as it is…so someone sticking a giant needle in my neck is certainly not something I am calm about. I’m trying to be but not there yet.

We’ll see what my 4th opinion has to say about the surgery, but it seems like they are all pointing to having to do it. WHEN is the question. I’m not happy about it at all, especially understanding the whole “fusion” part of it. If I have 3 discs removed, that means 4 of the 8 vertebrae in my neck will be fused together. Which according to the doctors means I can expect to lose at least ¼ of the mobility in my neck. I keep hoping we can at least delay it a year or two and let science improve so the relatively new artificial discs that are now being used in the back can be used in the neck at more than 1 level with success, no fusion. Wishful thinking…

Anyway, that’s pretty much everything that has transpired over the last few months so now you are up to speed. My only experience with surgery or any type of major procedure is having my tonsils out. So to say I’m completely scared to death would be an understatement. I will keep you posted, but I’d appreciate any prayers or positive vibes anyone is willing to send my way.

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I got this book via paperbackswap.com earlier this week. It’s a lengthy book at 604 pages, but I finished it in about 4 evenings. It progresses quickly and held my interest easily.

At the beginning, we learn of the Kirkham family in Manchester, England, deserted by the father in 1829 and left to fend for themselves. I was fascinated by the way the author described life in this time period and a lot of the historical accuracy weaved throughout this fictional tale. Dinah Kirkham, the youngest child of the family, is the main character in the book yet the stories are really all about her family, and the various paths they all take, the struggles they must each face, and their inner strength.

The first few sections of the book take us along as the Kirkhams struggle to survive, the children working in factories at ages so young it was hard to imagine, the mother accepting her now lowered station in life and looking for work in the homes of others, all while living in a miserable shack of a home. The latter half of the book occurs after the Kirkhams have been introduced to a Mormon missionary who has a message that resonates with most of the family. From there, the story takes a turn both narratively and geographically.

While Dinah is a fictional character, the author has her interacting with real people and real events who have also been fictionalized in these stories, but it gives the book more of a non-fiction feel. Card also uses “First Words” in between chapters where he appears to be giving background on his “great aunt Dinah” and her diary, so it was easy to forget that this was a fictional character.

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I’m scared to death as that was certainly not what I thought I would hear. I thought maybe some physical therapy was going to do the trick but doesn’t look like I’ll be that lucky. I’ve never had surgery in my life (except tonsils) so to have the first time be at my SPINAL CORD I am more than freaking out right now. I am also worried about how this might effect my job. I’m the primary lead on a huge project and may have to step out of that role at the most critical moment when we are about to begin implemetnation. Stupid thing to worry about over my health, but somebody has to pay the bills.

I have some research to do before I make a final decision, and looking to get a 2nd opinion of course, but what he showed me in my MRI scans looks downright scary.

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I’m supposed to call the doctor in the morning to find out the results.  I just hope he has some answers as to the cause of all these problems.  From the EMG, he is pretty convinced this is not carpal tunnel, so now we wait to see what the MRI shows….he suspects there is some sort of nerve issue with my neck that is causing all the problems.  We shall see.  In the meantime, TTFN and TGI(almost)F!

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My Review: 2 of 5 stars

Even though it is a couple of inches thick, I read this in one night. While it did have some good parts, I just couldn’t get past the content of emails flying back and forth at work. Maybe other places are more relaxed, but in my experience, I don’t know anyone who would be foolish enough to send or receive messages with such personal detail, berating other employees, sex talk, etc via their WORK email account. In my reality, she would have been caught and fired within the first week. Big brother really IS watching.

See?  I just can’t stick to the topic.  I get carried off on tangents, just like my Grammy K used to. 

Ok, junior high.  I was in UIL both 7th and 8th grade.  This time it was for Prose.  I remember in 8th grade I read an excerpt from To Kill a Mockingbird.  I had so much fun doing that one.  It was the part where the teacher freaks out over finding a “cootie” in a child’s hair.  I was the Student Council President in 8th grade.  I also started playing volleyball in 7th grade (first year we had the opportunity).  I played every year after that, all the way through graduation.  I was never what I would call “athletic” but for some reason, I fell in love with volleyball.  I was pretty good, too. 

Anyway, sticking to the topic, I also was a cheerleader in 8th grade and my freshman year in highschool.  I didn’t try out again after that because 1) it interfered with volleyball, and 2) it stopped being fun when it became all about popularity.  I marched to the beat of my own drum, and in a small town school, that was not something  that fostered popularity or a desire to be with that group.  Not that they were bad people, I just wasn’t into the same things they were for the most part.  I had my “bad boy” boyfriend by then, too, which didn’t help matters.  I hope this is not sounding bitter or mean.  I’m trying not to get carried away with stories right now and just giving some basics.  The bad boy and I got together in 7th grade and were off and on, mostly on, through graduation.  I’ve referred to him previously here as Psycho (he called himself that back then, so I’m not being ugly by calling him that). 

High school:  As I mentioned, I played volleyball all 4 years.  We had a freshman, JV, and varsity team.  Midway through my freshman season, I was moved up to JV.  By my sophmore year, I was on varsity.  My senior year, I was named to the All District team, voted my team’s MVP and Best Offensive player.  It was an interesting year because basically, by then, I was the only senior on the team.  It was a “rebuilding” year.  We had 2 juniors and the rest of the team were sophmores.  Apparently a period of disinterest in volleyball over those few years, I don’t know.  But it was still fun and one of my very favorite parts of my high school experience.  I was also voted the “Volleyball Sweetheart” for Homecoming.  I didn’t tell anyone I was planning to do this, but my dress had a long slit up on leg.  So, when they escorted us out onto the field and announced me, I popped one leg out from the dress and had on my red volleyball kneepad!  It was awesome!  My coach loved it and, for atleast the next couple of years while she was still at that school, it became a tradition that the volleyball sweetheart wear a kneepad out on the field.   

I was on student council, but that was pretty lame and we never really did much of anything.  I only did that two years I think.  I was in FHA and the FHA reporter for one year.  That Future Homemaker’s of America.  Looking back, I’m surprised that there was a group essentially dedicated to those who aspired to be….stay at home mom’s.  No one took it for that reason though, but if I read back over some of the materials about FHA, that’s essentially what it was.  We all took it because it was fun and easy and the teachers were cool.    I don’t think I was in UIL 9th or 10th grade.  Not for lack of wanting to be, the teachers just didn’t seek us out like they did in younger grades.  In fact, I don’t think I even realized UIL still existed until my sophmore year when my English teacher asked why I wasn’t participating. 

In 11th grade, I took typewriting (yes, back when we still actually used typewriters instead of computers) as one of my electives.  That teacher immediately recruited me for UIL typing.  So, 11th and 12th grade I did that.  In 11th grade, I won at district, advanced to regionals, and right before the contest, I jammed my finger playing volleyball.  It was off-season, so it was just a stupid injury from goofing around in the gym during athletics.  Needless to say, my typing teacher wasn’t thrilled with me.  My finger was swollen and I could barely bend it.  But I suffered through it and still managed to get 3rd place.  Not high enough to advance though.  My senior year, after again winning and advancing, my teacher joked with me about how she better not see me anywhere near a volleyball before contest.  Yet somehow, I don’t even remember the circumstances, but you guessed it, I jammed a finger (different one this time, but also from volleyball).  She heard about it before I even made it out of the gym to head to lunch.  I was less driven and less serious about typing that year, I will admit.  And I will never pass up a chance to play volleyball, so….I did ok at contest, but again, not enough to advance to state.  When I think back, I’m irritated at myself for that.  If I’d been 100%, I have no doubt I could have advanced.  Based on the scores of those who did, I KNOW I could have.  I was getting practice scores that high on a regular basis.  But, I was having too much fun being a senior to practice and focus (and skip gym for a few weeks).  It would have been fun to go to state contest, but at the time, I would rather stay home and hang out with the boyfriend and my two best gal pals.  Ah, the follies of youth.

I was also in One Act Play in high school.  Every year except freshman.  That was a lot of fun, too.  I won a couple of awards my senior year.  I was never in a starring role, which was fine with me because, as I mentioned before, I was kind of flaky in high school.  I was all about spending every spare second with Psycho. 

Ok, I think that pretty much sums up my school activities, the officially sanctioned ones at least.

I was born in Memphis, Tennessee.  I have 3 older brothers so I am not only the youngest, but the only girl.  I’ve heard the stories told many times that, while my mother loves all her boys, she really wanted a girl, too. When she was pregnant with me, I think it had pretty much been decided that, girl or not, my parents were stopping at four children.  My dad (in a life before I knew him) used to be big into deer and bird hunting.  It was something he did with his father, who died long before I was born.  Dad had a hunting trip planned with some of his buddies the day mom went into labor with me.  He called his friends later to tell them he had caught himself a doe…a two-legged one!  It was December when I was born and they brought me home on Christmas day in a big red Christmas stocking.

I wasn’t even a year old when my family moved to Texas, so I have no memories of ever living in Memphis, though we went back to visit regularly for many years.  My dad had a job opportunity that he and several of the guys he worked with in Memphis took advantage of so he moved our family to Southeast Texas.  This is where all of my childhood memories are found, starting around kindergarten.  I don’t think I have any true memories earlier than that, only stories and pictures I’ve heard and seen enough to make them feel like my own.  I do know that I loved school and was probably what you would call a teacher’s pet in kindergarten and first grade. 

In kindergarten, I remember those blowup alphabet people were the big thing.  I can’t remember what they were officially called, but I remember they were these large squarish vinyl characters and there was one for each letter of the alphabet.  It seems like each one had a trait or hobby or something that started with the corresponding letter.  Maybe there were songs for each one, too, but I’m pretty fuzzy on this memory.  I remember we had “Grandparents’ Day” and since both of my grandfathers died before I was born, and both of my grandmothers were back in Memphis, a lady from church went to school with me as my adopted grandmother.  Lila Whitford, I think.  I just remember she was a sweet lady and I had fun serving her cookies and punch.

My primary memory from first grade is that we had spelling tests each week.  One week, my teacher, Mrs Jackson, had lost her voice and so, me being the pet that I was, she had me sit at her desk while she called out the spelling words to me as best she could so I could take the test.  After I had completed it (with a perfect score, thank you very much!) I stood in front of the class and called out the words to the class so they could take the test.  Maybe I was oblivious, but I don’t recall there being any of that annoyance over the whole “teacher’s pet” situation.  I got along well with the other kids and had lots of friends.  Perhaps I was too naive to realize they were rolling their eyes at me behind my back, I don’t think so, but it doesn’t really matter now.

The summer after first grade, we moved further from town, just outside the city limits, so I would start 2nd grade at a new school in a much more rural, small town setting.  When I first started, they had me in Mrs Handy’s class, but in less than a week, they moved me to Mrs Allen’s.  There were 3 second grade classes:  Mrs Allen, Mrs Davis, and Mrs Handy.  It seems so terrible now, but we all knew, even back then, how the classes were divided.  The “smartest” students were in Mrs Allens, then it went to Davis, then Handy.  Whether they knew it or not, they had created this miniature caste system among us.  When I moved to 3rd grade, it was the same setup, just 3 different teachers.  But even then, it was a small school, we all knew each other and everyone got along for the most part.  It’s weird to me now to realize that, even at that young age, there were cliques, and of course the “popular” kids.  I like to think that even though I was popular at that time, I “played well with others.”  If I’m honest with myself, I know that isn’t 100% true.  I do remember making fun of a couple of kids.  I feel bad about that now.  The two I recall both moved away so I often wonder what happened to them and hope they are doing well.

I also remember we used to have to take the CTBS (I think that’s what it was) Test each year.  I never have figured out why, but they always took me and one other student in another room, usually the teachers’ lounge, to complete our tests.  We were both “brainy” but I still can’t figure out why they singled us out like that.  The other student, let’s call him Hebert, and I were always at each other’s throats.  We hated each other.  Or at least that’s what we called it up until at least 4th or 5th grade.  I think it was a competitive thing in one way, but perhaps partially a childhood crush of some sort.  Because isn’t that what you do to people you like at that age?  I remember Hebert actually formed a club, the [Daisy-Head] Haters club he called it.  There were several boys I remember being part of it at one time or another.  Seems like there was a girl or two at some point as well.  I think that lasted until about 5th or 6th grade…and then, when the ringleader moved away, the club fizzled.  They never really did anything but get together at recess and make faces at me.  There were words exchanged, but I don’t remember any of it really being that bad.  I wasn’t scarred or traumatized or driven to tears by it.  Funny enough, Hebert and I recently reconnected (after 20+years!) on facebook.  He seems like a likable guy and managed to hang on to his “smarts,” while I think I started to get uncomfortable with mine and “dumbing down” by junior high.  Anyway, he apologized for starting that club all those years ago, and we’ve laughed about it and moved on. 

In 2nd and 3rd grade I was in UIL Storytelling.  This was where students from all over the region would meet and compete in different categories.  For storytelling, the students were put in a room together and read a story.  Afterwards, we left the room and then were taken back in one-by-one and had to retell the story from memory.  To practice at school, the teachers would read me a short story in the hall and then I (and a couple of others who did it as well) had to go in front of the class to retell the story.  It was fun and apparently I was pretty good at it, pausing for dramatic effect, changing my voice for different characters, and remembering the tiniest of details.  I could never do that today.  I can’t remember the movie I just watched, much less be able to tell someone about it in detail!

I also remember that, when I was in 3rd grade, it was all about Michael Jackson.  We had small cassette players and my friend, SS, had copied his Thriller album (yes an actual RECORD) onto tape so we could listen to it at recess.  Oh boy.  I have to tell the whole story here.  We didn’t just listen.  There was a group of about 8 of us girls who would all gather around the tape player, with the album cover propped up (with him laying down in the white suit) next to it and just swoooon over him.  We also danced.  Every day at recess.  The full routine to Beat It and Thriller from the videos.  My family didn’t have MTV, but SS did so she recorded the videos for me.  We learned the dances and taught the other girls.  We would actually get up and PERFORM these in front of the whole school at recess.  We (thought we) were so cool.  We even had a Dance Off with the guys once…and a moonwalking contest.  I still crack up when I think about it.  It’s too bad (or is it?) there’s no videos of that.  Would be hysterical to watch at a class reunion. 

Perhaps one of the greatest memories of my elementary school days was on my first day of school in 2nd grade.  SS, who was the principal’s daughter, came up to me on the playground and said, “Hi.  I’m SS.  Will you be my friend?”  Of course I said yes, and I was, and we are still friends to this very day.  We couldn’t have been more different from each other.  She lived in the country, raised animals, was in 4-H, showed her animals at the fair.  My experience with animals was limited to dogs and cats.  She listened to country music and dreamed of owning a “duelie” truck when she was older.  I listened to alternative music and wanted a Porsche.  As we grew older, she wore Justin Ropers and Rocky Mountains.  I wore crazy tights and big chunky-heeled shoes (I still do actually!).  She was a good girl and I was the wild child.  But ever since we met that day on the playground all those years ago, we’ve been great friends. 

I think these assignments are far too broad.  Or I’m too long-winded.  It’s been far more than the suggested 45-minutes, and I haven’t even made it to middle school yet!  Ah well, stories for another day.  My hands can’t take anymore.  And I’m taking a vacation day from work tomorrow to give myself (and my hands) a rest!