Just Because You Think You Can...

From Dictionary.com:

set·back:
[set-bak]
- noun
1. a check to progress

=============================================
As long as I can remember, I've been told "girl, you can do anything you put your mind to." Papaw told me that whenever I would get discouraged about math problems, especially those story problems, where I would always want to know why anyone would need to know how fast two different trains from different directions were going when you can only ride on one train at a time. Ahem.

Daddy told me that whenever I dared to utter those forbidden words "I just can't do it" (whatever "it" might be at the moment). Giving up was never an option. If I've heard Winston Churchill's speech once, I've heard it 10,000 times...both the real one and the one that is often misquoted...:)

So, naturally I grew up believing I could, in fact, do whatever I put my mind to. And I'm a believer in the concept that sheer will and determination will gain you ground when everything and everyone around you are saying you are done for. Remember: put one foot in front of the other, and move forward.

But I have run into that immovable object that no amount of irresistible forcing will bend: my body. It seems that I can do what I put my mind to, only IF my body is working properly.

My mind was determined to make significant progress on our Way Back Garden in April. Well, as any gardener will attest, there's a mountain of chores on the To Do List for the first full month of Spring. And we have even more items on our lists because this is the first year of our newly revised WBG Plan, with the four gardens in play: the Orchard, the Berry Patch, the Kitchen Garden, and the Rose garden.

Things have been rolling right along, with lots of progress in all the gardens. Then, last weekend, I eagerly tackled the planting checklist for the Kitchen Garden, following the average last frost date for our area (typically quoted as being April 15). Since we had experienced a later than usual frost, I had held off on getting many of the transplants and seeds in the ground (although I had to make a mad dash one evening to cover some tender plants when I heard the weather forecast).

I'm happy to report that I got eight tomato transplants in, along with seven pepper plants. In the tomato row, I planted a German Johnson, a Marglobe, a Bush Goliath, two Early Girls, a Lemon Boy, a Bonnie Select, and a Rutgers. In the pepper row, I planted four sweet green bell peppers, a yellow bell, an early bell (which matures to red), and a Cubanelle. I still have seedlings of Better Boys, Jet Stars, Romas, and Juliets under grow lamps, along with Fish Peppers. These will all be ready to go into the garden in a couple of weeks, about the same time I plant the next four rows of corn.

I also got seeds planted for pole beans, bush beans, okra, yellow and zucchini squash, cantaloupes, watermelons, and cucumbers. I've interplanted herbs and flowers, such as basil and marigolds in the tomato row and nasturtiums with the squash...attempting to add some natural pest control. (I already have sage and onions planted with the cabbages and the broccoli.)

The blueberries and the blackberries have already flowered and are fruiting up nicely in the Berry Patch.  We knew if we wanted to have any fruit this year, we'd better get the bird nets up, so we did.  We also are seeing lots of strawberries, even though we probably should have removed all the flowers this year to let them take root...as this is a new bed from the runners of the old bed (formerly in the space now occupied by the Rose Garden)...but I ask you, who can remove the pretty flowers?  Not I.

And I'm proud to report Mr. T put the last three trees in the Orchard, and got the last order of the English roses planted in the Rose Garden. We have three more hybrid teas on order, and that should do it for planting for this year...except for the perennials and annuals for accents, of course. There is ALWAYS an "except for...," isn't there?

All was going swimmingly, until Sunday. I was wrangling the soaker hoses, trying to test them for major leaks and then place them for maximum coverage. We have to get them pinned in place before we can put the mulch down, especially in the Rose Garden. Well, after rearranging one length of hose for the third time, my head truly began to swim...and I had to yield the day to vertigo.

A day in bed to get rid of the spinning symptoms brought on my back problems again. I'm beginning to believe they are in cahoots.

Anyway, I'm taking another little break while I deal with these setbacks. These "checks to my progress." And deal with them, I shall.

Because, as anyone knows, you can do anything you put your mind to...right?

Winston would approve heartily of this plaque
from Missy M, don't you think?

One...and Done...

"The sun will come out...tomorrow..."
Our newest bird feeder, after the rains

I guess by now you already have figured out that my NCAA Tournament bracket is toast.  Burnt. Toast.  My Tigers didn't even make it out of the starting gate, losing to St. Louis in their first game...AKA the Second Round.  One and done, as they say.  Sigh.  I won't bore you with my thoughts on WHY this happened...let's just say that I wouldn't shed any tears if Coach JP got another opportunity. Big sigh.

Moving on...

I have happier news when it comes to my back.  It feels fantastic!  I am moving about with much, much more flexibility...and much less pain. Hooray!!

So, was it all attributable to that epidural steroid injection procedure-thingie, Patricia? you may ask. Hmmm.  Not sure.

Here's what I do know:  IT HURT.  I mean the procedure, not just my back. You will recall I have had 3 or 4 of these same procedures when we lived in MO.  Only...and this is probably the big part of it...I was "asleep" during those former procedures.  "Asleep," as in not conscious of what was happening during the procedure. The doctor (a Pain Management specialist) did not need my participation, and I was happy to be OUT.

Not this time.  I was conscious...wide-awake...capable of feeling everything that happened.  And, I am here to say, IT HURT.  I kept saying things like "you know, I'm still with y'all," and "you don't really need me now, do you?" Hint, hint.  The Dr. (a Neurologist) had promised he'd "give me something extra in my IV" to ensure I would not feel anything.  Well, because they couldn't get my IV inserted as planned (like, the first try...or the second...or even the third), "they" didn't get the extra something in the IV until too late.

Here's how it played out last Monday.

I take the pre-procedure meds as directed (3 doses of prednisone, tagamet, and benadryl), and Mr. T drives me to the appointment.  I am nervous...but feeling pretty good about things.  Oh, little did I know...

They call my name.  I say goodbye to Mr. T, who waits in the waiting room with his Blackberry and my iPad...he shouldn't be too bored. I go back to the procedure room, get undressed/dressed for the procedure, and get up on the table.

Dr.'s nurse tries repeatedly, unsuccessfully to insert my IV...never an easy thing to do, with my teensy veins...and (normally) low blood pressure. After FINALLY calling in reinforcements (in the person of a nurse who formerly assisted an anesthesiologist), the IV goes in.  They are concerned it would come out, so they double-tape me up to keep that from happening.  I'm still wide awake, so I do some deep breathing to help me relax and get to my happy place.  The Dr. laughs and asks me where that is...the Caribbean?  OK...sounds good....anywhere but in this procedure room, says I.

They get the Xray going (since this type of procedure is done "under scope" as they say) and locate "the Scotty dog," as the Dr. uses a visual cue for the technician to know where to focus. Lots of conversation about that. Since the MRI I'd had told him that the worst place is the space between L4-L5, that is their target.

Dr. says "I'm inserting the needle...tell me if you feel anything." OK. Just a little pressure...so far, so good.  Then...  He hits the nerve.  Lightening-pain goes down my left leg, into my foot.  I jump (which ain't easy to do while lying face-down, with your face in a donut-like holder, and with one arm strapped down). I let him know.  I holler "I felt THAT."

Dr. says "I'm stimulating the nerve."  [Really.  No sh.....er, kidding.]

Dr. also says "Better give her some more."  Nurse says "I did." Dr. says "Maybe some more."

Too late. After that, it is all downhill. I am in pain, both physical, from the nerve contact...and psychological, from fear that he is going to do that again.  I can barely breathe normally, much less do any deep breathing.  I am crying.  I say "I've lost the Caribbean."

They apparently find that very funny. Ha ha.

Mercifully, he injects the steroid, the dye (?), and a pain killer.  That is the order he tells me.  I personally believe the order should have been reversed, but they didn't ask my opinion. And, he says those seven beautiful words that I am still awake to hear:  "Well, I'm done and removing the needle." Finally.

As they are removing the IV, I realize that I am having an ocular migraine (which are annoying but rarely painful, lasting about 20-30 minutes before clearing.  Follow that link to see a great visual representation of what one looks like).  The nurse says "wonder what caused that?" I say, "they are usually caused by stress...or, in my case, drinking red wine. I'm guessing you didn't put any red wine in my IV."

Again, they find that very funny.  Ha ha ha.  I'm killing 'em.

As I roll over to get off the table, I have a vertigo episode (remember, my BPPV is triggered by a sudden "change in head position with respect to gravity").  Room is spinning.  And NOW the "something extra" they put in my IV finally kicks in, and a great fog descends on my brain, making it difficult for me to think...or talk...or walk.  Also, my left foot is numb...residual effect from the "nerve stimulation".  I ask you, could this get any better?

Most of the next week was pretty grim.  I struggled to climb back out of the hole into which I felt like the epidural procedure had knocked me. Struggled mightily. One of the stated side effects to epidurals is headache...and I had those in spades.  Deep, throbbing, rolling, nauseating, blinding headaches. Oh, and a side effect of the steroid for me is severe leg muscle spasms in the night.

Feeling better...and doing something
I probably have no business doing.

Finally, this past Friday, I awoke feeling like a "human bean" again, as Mom would have said.  All of the negative effects had disappeared (with the exception of the nightly muscle spasms in my left leg)...and so had almost all of my back pain.  I felt like I was emerging from a long, dark tunnel into the light.

The round-up report:  I have stopped the pain meds.  I am still using my TENS unit...and heating pad. I continue to use the topical pain relievers (LidoDerm patches on my back, BioFreeze on my leg muscles).  I am doing my flexibility stretching exercises/PT.  I have gotten into the garden (photo, right), bending and reaching...but trying to avoid any heavy lifting if I can. I talked Mr. T into letting me use the Mantis (I love this tool!)...and I found that one row was quite enough for now, thank you very much.

The Big Question:  will I return for a second epidural, as I'm sure the Dr. will suggest at my follow up appointment next week?  These procedures tend to provide only temporary relief...and the length of time of that relief is typically increased with more than one procedure.

Or, am I "one...and done?"

Now, what do you think?