Well, a few hours ago I had what is so far my last ditch attempt at relieving the pain in my back. I saw my third back doctor, as yes I am now entering the slightly desperate realm of not just second opinions when you don't like the first one, but the full third time maybe lucky hat trick of 'is there anything you can do please?'.
This is a guy called Jan Klosok, who works out of St Anthony's in Cheam, one of my string of all too regular hospitals. I went in at 2.30 yesterday, not having had a drink or eaten since 10am as the procedure involved a general anaesthetic. Bloody typically, I was last on his list so you can imagine my growing discomfort then all-out pissedoffness as it got to 6.30pm and I was still in my hot room, in a sticky gown, gaggingly thirsty, waiting to go to theatre.
I finally went down for my 6 facet joint injections (I've had these at least 4 times before and they've never worked when having just 1-2, but very much hoping a battery of 6 might nail things better) and my first ever epidural. Came back up at 7.45pm with not just 6 but a full dozen of holes in my back, oozing merrily through the plaster. If in doubt, just shove 12 injections in there. And what a numb butt! Never had an epidural but it seems to be like sitting on a large slab of ice for an hour, then you try and get up. No sensation between my knees and mid torso, very bizarre and wobbly.
Eventually ly got home at 10pm, hours later than anticipated, and straight into bed. And, no idea as yet if it's done anything, as I've now woken at 3am and it's all pretty much still lacking in feeling.
I have to say, it's also not my greatest bit of diary management as while I was fully free and available for the procedure yesterday, I didn't manage to spot in time that it 'butts' (arf) right up against my plans for today and Friday – queuing and camping for Wimbledon tennis today and overnight, and then watching matches in a nice hard flap down chair on Friday. Ross is picking me, the tent, the sleeping bag, the chairs, the new inflatable 'soft cover' bed and me up at 5am. Hopefully before it rains.. Hmm, I hear the 'that's not a good idea' advice of Liz T in my ears. She's right of course, but tennis comes just nice a year and it's just up the road, so I shortly go….
will let you know how the back pans out when I can actually feel it again. Till then, wish me luck with the camping – not my natural environment, so here's hoping it nets us some decent tickets, so I can doze away behind my sunglasses, until a particularly good bit of play rouses the crowd and wakes me up enough to clap x