Slow Train Wreck
Spilt Milk
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"It was about then that it hit me. Sharp unrelenting pains in my hip and leg when I walked or moved. Then a creepy paralysis in my right foot and lower leg that would not let me walk correctly which ultimately locked me up in a painful stumbling gait."
From Straight Shots IX, November, 2024
TIME PASSES BUT NOTHING MUCH CHANGES
For all those kind people who have contacted me about the progress of my medical plight I will bring an update. As anyone who knows me can attest I am not keen about discussing my medical problems deferring to some sort of obfuscation or misdirecting the conversation, such as, sport's memorabilia or the weather. However over the last few months that has changed somewhat due to my enforced confinement and lack of anything current to talk about except doctor stuff or the occasional novel act of the government that causes fear in the hearts of the populace.
In the spirit of so many other people who are chronically afflicted I will give a brief update of my journey.
It is now 7½ months since my difficulties began. Looking back I am able to say that although the onset of my condition was dramatic it should not have been a surprise. I have had some sort of "back" troubles since our pottery making day back when my wife and I operated Osage Pottery Works up until 1999. Processing five tons of clay a year by hand on top of me working in steel fabrication shops for several years prior started something in my spinal area.
Lugging around twenty foot long sticks of angle iron or round rod then turning them into boat docks or ramps or various other metal objects was honest work for a young man. Then trading that for turning clay on a pottery's wheel and carrying it around the studio in various stages of production, loading it in a truck, and selling to the public created quite a physical strain on my system. Little wonder that later in life the occasional visits to the chiropractor and doing compensatory exercises to get through the day turned into something more serious in 2024.
The life of an artist is a long series of ordeals that are of a different nature than those events that are inflicted on people who pursue a more conventional lifestyle. Those folks are often confronted with relationship issues or career challenges which are tough enough. The artist on the other hand has those as well as living on thin financial ice next to a vast sinkhole while fighting off a legion of demons tormenting you about your worthiness to carry on. When physical ailments enter the scene they are submerged into the internal swamp of conflict and pain becoming just another nag scoffing at you claiming that you are not good enough. Brandon Coleman of the Red Clay Strays understands this attitude in his song "Drowning".
So last October when I was disabled it was just another aspect of the worldview that I developed living on the back roads of America, "Whatever is, is". Push ahead and try not to think about your condition too much. But that didn't work. It was not long when I realized I need help to move forward with this challenge.
The early story was related in Straight Shots IX when I first approached the medical industrial establishment. There was the fumbling around and losing my medical records, failing to understand my condition, and a (ultimately) false diagnosis of a rare form of cancer thrown in just to keep the anxiety pot boiling.
RFK WEIGHS IN
Somewhere I learned the lesson that I am my only advocate against the medical industry. This position was recently validated by HHS Secretary R F Kennedy jr sighting the bungled advice on Covid-19 through the influence of Big Pharma. Doctors are ultimately good natured people but distracted by institutional protocols that are usually at odds with patient care. These two aspects of medical care form a modern conflict that haunts the good doctors and nurses day in and day out. I had to say no to their medical fishing expeditions and moneymaking test options and focus on MY problem not their problems or bottom line. It is like trying to paddle a rowboat through a roiling sea of bullshit.
Because my insurance is rudimentary (at best) I have sometimes steep co-pays so I can scream about the cost of treatment when most people just chalk it onto their gold-plated medical plans and let the insurance companies pay for unnecessary or dubious tests and diagnostic procedures. I learned that co-pays are an arbitrary billing scam used by grifters to extract a few extra bucks from the hapless patient who has few options but to pay up or be shamed into thinking you might be the cause of your death due to not paying for something you don't need or understand.
When confronted with a new test or procedure I ask, "What is the copay?" The doctor sports a blank expression which turns into a flaccid face. Then there is the obligatory tight lipped smile and something like, "I don't know" followed by "You have insurance [don't you]?" That last statement is a nicely crafted passive aggressive accusation that is the product of hours sitting in seminars about how to handle problematic patients. "Yes", I answer, "but not gold plated insurance." Implying, how much will I get whacked for this procedure? The cognitive dissonance blares across their face which changes from a studied disinterest to the wonderment of a person facing the abyss. We enter into an uncharted territory where the authority figure is confronted with an insecurity born from the colossal failures brought about by the Covid-19 fiasco that have re-branded everything in the medical industrial complex: the doctor is yanked into the new paradigm.
To me, the patient [victim] it is unsettling to watch and scary to contemplate. The otherwise well meaning health professional is trapped in the hellish world of insurance companies, courts, government, pleading patients who are sick, in pain, or frightened to death asking for answers. Caught up in this whirlpool of societal craziness I sit and wait.
Of the last six art festivals we attended with my wife's work I think I helped set up, tear down, and do all the chores that are necessary, three of them using a cane and three on a walker. I feel like I have a charlie-horse that never goes away, nevertheless, we made many adjustments so I could do my usual jobs and somehow it worked after a fashion. An upright stationary footing and talking to customers was a problem that caused pressure on my spine and sciatic nerve* causing enough pain that it forced me back in a chair. After a couple days of working the show we tear it all down and pack the approximately 600lb of tent and display equipment back in the van and headed out.
Of course Annie had to adapt as well picking up the slack on jobs I could no longer manage and making accommodations for my lack of mobility. My diminished capacity only made it harder on her.
TRUDGING DOWN THE TRACK
It is 7½ months since the onset of my injury and I have been blood tested, x rayed, scanned, mapped, rolled around, attacked by physical therapists, and injected with chemicals without much results. The last procedure was injections into the sacroiliac joints (SI) which were to no avail but said to be diagnostic if they did not relieve any pain (they didn't). I was assured that the several hundred bucks in co-pays were well worth it in the long run even though I am still in pain and can only walk with a cane. I do not feel vindicated for my decision to go ahead with the procedure but I am on a train going somewhere and I cannot get off now.
After changing their minds several times the docs seem to think I have a condition known as lumbar spinal stenosis. A constriction, narrowing, or a stricture in the bony ducts of the spine that form the pathways for the sciatic nerve. Likely caused by arthritic swelling or buildup in the lumbar spine over time. It is not the best news. However there is another round of injections supposedly targeted for the specific area of the spine where the problem is, these are scheduled for June.
My faith in God is not subordinate to the whims of the medical industrial complex. I am where I am because a long string of fleshy compromises and slow calcification that are part of the human condition. So far doctors are not the cause of my problems and are, in the vernacular of metaphors, muddling through the maze of gatekeepers and bean-counters towards a process that is not always very scientific or logical. It is an educated Ouija board of possibilities having medical terminologies for status. My prayers are that everybody involved stays within their abilities and better nature allowing God to heal people in this partnership.
*Sciatic Nerve-The sciatic nerve is the longest, largest nerve in your body. Your sciatic nerve roots start in your lower back and run down the back of each leg. Pain in your sciatic nerve occurs when it gets compressed or pinched.
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Cleverly written as usual. That is what makes this more than just a report of your issues. You tell an engaging tale or you tell a tale in an engaging way. In any event, difficult to stop reading once one begins.
Awesome read as usual. My heart goes out to you.