Well, it turns out I'm allergic to the miracle meds that made my right foot feel the same as the left. I wondered when my hands and feet swelled up two days ago. I was sure when my face felt funny and my neck and throat puffed up. I used my inhaler, and all was fine.
On the up side, I feel like myself again mentally - like I just woke up from a long dream. I'm ready to pick up my novel and write some more.
Yesterday, about 28 hours after my last dose, I got a headache like I've never had before. I have migraines - so I am familiar with really terrible headaches. I suffered through the day and felt best laying face down across my bed with my eyes closed for twelve hours until it went away.
At one point, I got up and read the medicine instructions online. I had no instructions from the doctor, which is really annoying. It said you can get severe headaches and seizures from stopping this medicine abruptly. Perfect.
The nurse called to talk to me about dosing from a call I put into her before I swelled up. She said this means that I am allergic to this and all of the other drugs they would have recommended as substitute drugs.
God is giggling at me in heaven. They have zero other medication options for me.
Since I have been on the medicine, I have been able to comfortably walk 1.5 miles every day. By comfortably, I mean I get some pain - not terrible pain, but pins and needles and some throbbing - not like the pain in my head yesterday or a broken foot kind of pain. It's annoying even on the lower dose of the meds. The path I walk has benches where you can sit down - so I do. I stop for 5-10 minutes several times along the way to stretch and rest my foot.
Yesterday on only whatever meds remained in my bloodstream, I walked 1.5 miles and was very surprised it was only a little more irritating than the walk the day before on the lowest dose. I have no foot pain this morning - well, nothing more than I'm used to.
But when I talked to the nurse, she said I should not walk through the pain. If I feel any pain, I should stop. I should listen to my body and stop.
But that doesn't make sense - they gave me meds specifically to numb the nerve pain. I walked almost three miles and did hurt my foot a week ago because the meds kept my body from knowing when to stop. She could give me no rational explanation why it was OK to walk on the meds but not off of them. I want to know if walking a mile a day will further damage my foot or will it help. The thing is they don't know. Five doctors so far. They don't know.
I will listen to my body and walk 1-1.5 miles a day because my body is telling me my foot is getting better. It's better after the EMG, and it's better after walking for two weeks. I can do it (slowly) and I'm in no more pain the next day than I would have been without walking.
But the nurse said, Oh no, you need to stop. No way am I stopping.
The path I walk on is a surface that's easy on my foot, and I still need a cane to walk on concrete and definitely can't walk a mile on that. But it's better. At least now I can try to lose weight, which in theory should help my foot. I can be more self-sufficient. I can go outside the perimeter of my lawn.
Yes, it's time to get yet another doctor - next time no surgeons. First I will give 100% to physical therapy since, well, it's all they are offering and it's helping my back for sure. And I am hopeful it's what I need for my foot too.
Showing posts with label a walk. Show all posts
Showing posts with label a walk. Show all posts
Friday, August 5, 2011
Saturday, July 30, 2011
A Very Long Walk...
This morning I walked. I walked to the first bench along the trail that leads around a lake. An older man was fishing and waved to me. I waved back. We were instant friends although a word wasn't exchanged.
I sat quietly - I remember from my childhood it's very important to be quiet when people are fishing. I sat quietly for about ten minutes and rested my foot and leg. I stretched and I listened.
I heard what I don't usually hear - layers upon layers of sounds. I'm naturally hypersensitive to sounds. I can hear my kids when they whisper - which drives them nuts. If I were a superhero, supersonic hearing would be my super power.
When I quieted my mind, which had been singing Frere Jacques (the English version) as I walked to its very slow pace, I heard everything. I heard the wind rush past my ears, the quacking of ducks, the splash of my new friend's line as he pulled it in and out of the water. I heard the whirl of bicycles race along the path behind me, the flopping of running shoes, and the constant sound of thousands of crickets.
Could those be crickets? It was a constant chirping, so constant that I didn't hear it until I listened for it.
I heard the chirping and tweeting of different kinds of birds, birds I couldn't see in the tall trees. I heard the engine of an airplane before it appeared in the sky that was as blue as the Caribbean Sea.
And then I walked some more, and more. I stopped at every bench along the way to rest for about ten minutes each time. All the while I walked at the pace of Frere Jacques, which would not leave my mind. Maybe it was telling me to go home and sleep?
Soon I found myself very close to the far end of the lake. If I had my cell phone with me, I would have called my husband to come get me. But I didn't, so I rested and walked slowly home. I made another new friend of an elderly man who who lapped me twice and commented on my leisurely pace. He walks five miles a day and was in better shape than many 40-year-olds I know. When he heard my story, he seemed very worried for me. But I was fine and still am, although I certainly overdid it a little. We chatted for a while. I hope I run into him again on my daily walks.
When I got to the last bench where my fishing friend was, he waved and smiled. I waved back. I smiled at him but actually had been smiling the whole way. I couldn't stop smiling even when people looked at me like maybe I should pick up the pace a bit. My slow pace was a miracle, every step of it.
I sat on the bench and stretched. My foot was hurting a little, and I wasn't listening as intently any more to the sounds around me. It was getting hot. I heard the sound of a bike and turned to look.
It was my bike with my husband on it. He had come on a rescue with my toddler riding in the buggy behind him. They were worried and brought me water.
Apparently I had been gone for almost three hours.
My best guess is that I walked two and a half miles in total. By the time I got home, more than three hours had passed since I left the house.
My right foot hurts, but not as much as it would have a month ago if I had simply walked down my street. So I hurt, but I still smile. My mind was not foggy on this walk - I felt like myself again except much happier.
Now I nap until it's time to take more meds....
I sat quietly - I remember from my childhood it's very important to be quiet when people are fishing. I sat quietly for about ten minutes and rested my foot and leg. I stretched and I listened.
I heard what I don't usually hear - layers upon layers of sounds. I'm naturally hypersensitive to sounds. I can hear my kids when they whisper - which drives them nuts. If I were a superhero, supersonic hearing would be my super power.
When I quieted my mind, which had been singing Frere Jacques (the English version) as I walked to its very slow pace, I heard everything. I heard the wind rush past my ears, the quacking of ducks, the splash of my new friend's line as he pulled it in and out of the water. I heard the whirl of bicycles race along the path behind me, the flopping of running shoes, and the constant sound of thousands of crickets.
Could those be crickets? It was a constant chirping, so constant that I didn't hear it until I listened for it.
I heard the chirping and tweeting of different kinds of birds, birds I couldn't see in the tall trees. I heard the engine of an airplane before it appeared in the sky that was as blue as the Caribbean Sea.
And then I walked some more, and more. I stopped at every bench along the way to rest for about ten minutes each time. All the while I walked at the pace of Frere Jacques, which would not leave my mind. Maybe it was telling me to go home and sleep?
Soon I found myself very close to the far end of the lake. If I had my cell phone with me, I would have called my husband to come get me. But I didn't, so I rested and walked slowly home. I made another new friend of an elderly man who who lapped me twice and commented on my leisurely pace. He walks five miles a day and was in better shape than many 40-year-olds I know. When he heard my story, he seemed very worried for me. But I was fine and still am, although I certainly overdid it a little. We chatted for a while. I hope I run into him again on my daily walks.
When I got to the last bench where my fishing friend was, he waved and smiled. I waved back. I smiled at him but actually had been smiling the whole way. I couldn't stop smiling even when people looked at me like maybe I should pick up the pace a bit. My slow pace was a miracle, every step of it.
I sat on the bench and stretched. My foot was hurting a little, and I wasn't listening as intently any more to the sounds around me. It was getting hot. I heard the sound of a bike and turned to look.
It was my bike with my husband on it. He had come on a rescue with my toddler riding in the buggy behind him. They were worried and brought me water.
Apparently I had been gone for almost three hours.
My best guess is that I walked two and a half miles in total. By the time I got home, more than three hours had passed since I left the house.
My right foot hurts, but not as much as it would have a month ago if I had simply walked down my street. So I hurt, but I still smile. My mind was not foggy on this walk - I felt like myself again except much happier.
Now I nap until it's time to take more meds....
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