I have a flaming migraine, again. Third one this month.
My right shoulder once again feels like there’s a hot petanque ball stuffed under the scapula. My right hip has exploded.
And about a week ago, I woke up feeling as if I’d slept on an electrical plug, pointy-side-up, right at the base of my spine. At first, I thought I really had – Under the pile of sheepskins and cushions and cashmere throws on my bed, there’s an electric blanket, and the blanket has a big square lump where the wiring is attached. Sometimes it moves around the bed and ends up under some part of me, and I end up with a minor cramp wherever it dug in. This hurt a lot more than usual.
This time, I reached around to feel for the plug, and instead of finding it I found the usual three-inch-thick pad of fleece, and my own coccyx, which was sticking out at 45 degees and so much as touching it felt like the evil version of slamming your elbow into a doorframe. I flipped onto my side, lifted up my knees, keeping my back board-straight since I couldn’t move it without intense pain, and started howling.
The howling brought Dearest out of the shower, who quickly poured the remains of a bottle of morphine down my throat, fed me 4mg of diazepam, 75mg of diclofenac, and managed to get at least one of my legs straightened out and the other supported on a cushion, so that I could relax in place. Half an hour later, I was relaxed far enough to reduce the luxation at least partially, and then half an hour later I reduced it a little bit further, then again, and again, each time the inflammation pushing it a little way back towards a luxation, and each time my work putting it back a little bit closer to “correct”. Two steps forward, one step back. Pain. Pain. More pain. That afternoon, I phoned rheumatology and was told “They’d get back to me in 48 hours”.
A couple of days later, still trapped in bed, Best Friend and Best Friend’s Mum came over for the afternoon to look after me, with Best Friend holding my hand, occassionally massaging the worst of the cramp out of my spine, and generally trying to keep my mind on the cricket and the thought of going on holiday, and off the burning pain in my back. By this point, my shoulder pain had reached the point where I was having to breathe in between shots of pain, which was understandably making me tense and twitchy. Meanwhile, Best Friend’s Mum made me hot water bottles, found cushions to stack my limbs up with, fed me, and washed the dishes so that I’d have something to eat off later.
A couple of days after that, still in bed but starting to shuffle around a bit now, Dearest spent several hours and a lot of diazepam working the spasms and cramps out of my back and shoulders, almost managing to get the right shoulderblade (the one with the white-hot petanque ball under it) to lie flat for a couple of seconds. My tail, by this point, lay almost completely flat to where it belonged.
And now it’s today, and I’ve finally got through to Rheumatology, who aren’t even at StJ anymore, they’re at CA. Dr D will see me at some point in the next month, for my regular appointment, but moved forwards as far as he can because this is fairly serious stuff. He’s had his hours cut, and thus also his number of patients cut, but as far as anyone can tell I’m still one of his.
I’m just about hobbling about the house now – Not well, or with any grace, and still only by taking literally as much morphine as I can tolerate (Having had the last of the diazepam earlier in the week, because obviously I am better off having violent, painful spasms than taking a naughty drug that some people might sometimes enjoy taking for fun) and doing as little as possible Tomorrow, the glazier is coming over to fix one of the window handles, then in the evening I’m taking Dog to the vet’s to get his ten-day checkup for his teeth (He had sixteen teeth removed last Monday. It was a terrifying day for both of us). After that, I’ve got broadly nothing to do until Saturday morning, when I in theory have a univerity tutorial.
Judging by the stabbing pains in my shoulder that’re continuing without respite and making it hard to breathe, I’ll probably not be going anywhere. Oh, and somehow during this hellish week, I’ve managed to finish my own essay for my second TMA and write one about “My EDS experience with reference to using the Internet for support” to be a piece of primary material for someone else’s PhD, which is rather fun. And she’s in the North too, so it’s nice to have met another northern zeb.