God's Curveball
Friday, May 31, 2013 at 1:47PM Well well well. Just when you think you know what's going on in your spine, God throws you a curveball. Ok, it's not God. God didn't toss the car into the air in college, propel it 92 feet over a cow pasture, push it through a stone wall or flip it twice like a coin. He did not pull my legs out from under me on the stairs with a baby in my arms when she was one. And he did not bring my car's electric hatch down into my skull, the event that started my spine's collapse.
He did however give me a curious strength to endure the above and the ability to sense that whatever this all is, it is somehow predestined. He gave me doctors who want to figure me out, and a family that accepts they never will.
After multiple spine surgeries, procedures, injections, MRI's CT's, X-Rays, Flouroscopies, nerve blocks, Rhyzotomies, Electro Stim Trial and beyond, you'd think we had it covered.
Until today.
For a year this pain in my neck has worsened. I cannot hold my head for more than 20 minutes without it giving up. My arms, my ring and pinkies shake, my left leg no longer lifts. Hyper reflexivity racks my limbs. I cannot walk. Not that my right leg doesn't want to. It's actually quite ticked at its partner for its lethargy - As though they finally made it to Dancing With The Stars and one of them decided to quit. Leaving the other still willing, but stranded.
Tomorrow I undergo an MRI of my neck and my brain. Thank God someone's looking at my brain. There has to be some kind of explanation for this blog.
The concern is possible Cervical Spinal Stenosis. The alternative is a neurological issue, which is why they are looking into my brain. It's much easier to accept something tangible. Like something squeezing your spinal cord.
Spinal Stenosis can happen in your neck or lower back. The lower back is not as scary because the spinal cord stops before it gets that far. But in the neck, if not treated, can eventually lead to paralysis.
I don't know what will happen tomorrow. What they will see in my neck and my brain. I'm hoping they can't see memories. There are a few I'd rather keep to my blog. Like my first kiss and what I did when he broke my heart. How my children dug a hole into my soul. And how I feel when others look at me now, with confusion. That this can't be right.
I am no longer normal. But who is, really? Don't we all have something about us that makes people wonder?
At this moment we are driving home. Country music booms from Don's playlist a song about a man drinking beer (he likes Budweiser in a tall glass and a good piece of country ...), the scooter bobs on the back hatch, the wheelchair crouches in the back seat. She prefers Barry Manilow. And I curl into you. My safety zone of hearts who care enough each day to hear what I have to say. Tonight I will say a prayer to God and thank Him for everything He did, and didn't do. But I will also thank Him for you. A community of people who have no idea who each other are, but are touched by knowing you are not alone. Which makes curveballs from above a whole lot easier to accept.
Reader Comments (1)
Once again, Micaela encourages me to accept my challenges with humor and grace...and a unique eye. She uncovers the magic in any experience she lives through...I am praying for and thinking of you ALL DAY today, wonderful woman. And I have full assurance that no matter what today's outcome reveals about your prognosis, you'll tackle it with your own brand of vigor and truth - allowing the rest of us to watch, listen and learn from how you skillfully, yet candidly,
maneuver this most frightening and unusual life journey.