Disappointment

A week ago I had two transforaminal steroid injections.

And they don't really seem to have helped.

Well, I have gone from sitting about 5 seconds to sitting closer to 60 seconds.  But it's nothing like the two hours my doctor predicted.  And last night was the worst night I've had in weeks--because of my attempts at sitting? fluctuating hormones? wet, cool weather?  Who knows.

Sure, the cortisone hasn't reached full effect (that's about a week out) and sure 60 seconds is better than 5, but I had hoped for 15 minutes.  So I could eat a meal at the table, ride in the car sitting in a seat, eventually go to the dentist and the hairdresser.  I'm very disappointed; I'll be devastated if there is no more real improvement.  Another d-word for the situation:  despair.

I haven't talked to the doctor yet, actually, because his office has lost power due to the rain and is closed.  Good thing my injection wasn't today!  I imagine he'll be mystified.  And will suggest nerve root-blocking medicines like Lyrica.  I'm very hesitant to go that route.  But I will consider it.  Along with all the alternative therapies I've been lining up in the event that the injection didn't help.

Meanwhile, I've signed up for a special online retreat with American Buddhist Pema Chodron, entitled "Living Beautifully with Uncertainty and Change."  I definitely have uncertainty and change, but I'm not sure I'm living with it beautifully.  I vacillate between isolation and contemplation, frustration and acceptance, overwhelmed and keeping perspective, whining and coping, sadness and hope.  The physical pain has nothing on the mental suffering . . . .except when I see it all as a huge gift.