On Tuesday, I saw two doctors about my “condition.”
I cried at LEAST 10 times during those 2 hours.
I don’t even know where to begin.
Hmm. How to write this and make sense while doped up and bitter…
I know! Let’s start with my weight! Because I just love talking about my weight!
About two months ago, I rejoined weight watchers to try to lose the 30 pounds that I had put back on. I wasn’t perfect, but I was working out consistently 3-4 days a week. I lost 3 pounds the first week and then, nothing.
I was upset and frustrated, but I kept doing what I needed to do. I was eating healthy, working out and trying really hard not to stress about the “numbers on the scale.”
THEN, The Neck Pain started. At first, I thought it was something that I needed to work through, so I continued working out, lifting weights and eating right.
BlogHer was coming and I wanted to lose 20 pounds before I got on that plane.
Then, the neck pain got worse and I found myself in urgent care where he said things like “MRI” and “strength deficit” and “Neurologist” and “STAY AWAY FROM THE GYM.”
I was scared, but also frustrated that I couldn’t work out because MY GOD I need to work out. But I also need to get better, so I promised I’d stay out of the gym until I knew what the problem was.
(But I did go to try a little cardio one night and whoops! Bad choice. VERY BAD CHOICE. Haven’t done it since.)
I decided that in order to lose a little weight before BlogHer (so that I could buy pretty clothes! And not be ashamed of my Triple Chin!) I would go on the Atkins diet. I always lose a lot of weight/inches on the Atkins diet.
Well, I had done it for a week, without cheating at all (I gave up Starbucks, for chrissakes!) so I was expecting to be pleasantly surprised when I stood on the scale at the doctors office.
Well, I was surprised, but not in a good way.
When I stepped on the scale, the numbers 2-0-6 flashed before my eyes.
I started to cry.
The nurse looked at me and said “How tall are you again?”
I snapped back “NOT TALL ENOUGH TO WEIGH TWO HUNDRED AND SIX POUNDS!!”
I’m embarrassed. I think more so because I was so public about my weight loss. I was all “I lost 70 pounds! And you can too! Just believe in yourself!” And now I’m all “I gained 30+ pounds back! I am a winner!”
After talking to two doctors, I’ve decided the fact that I am obese again! (OBESE!) is the least of my worries (but not really, because obesity kills!) Right now, I have to focus on healing my body and guess what? That could take MONTHS! And possibly surgery! But we won’t know for sure until the MRI is in.
For now, they’re saying “probably a herniated disk” and also “Cervical Radiculopathy.”
I sat there sobbing as my doctor told my husband just how painful this condition is. He told my husband that this is probably the worst pain I will ever experience in my life and then he used words like “excruciating” and “relentless” and “intense.”
He told me that there’s a possibility I can have this for months, but that the studies show it will heal on it’s own in time (possibly NINE MONTHS!) or, surgery is an another option, but that the surgery is pretty rough, so he suggests letting it try to heal on it’s own.
I actually thought I’d go in there and they’d say “we can have you good as new by next week and go right ahead and start working out again tomorrow!”
Instead, I walked out with the realization I’m going to be in pain for a long fucking time and orders to take steroids (because I need to be MORE PUFFY THAN I ALREADY AM!) muscle relaxers (Soma!) and vicodin.
How did this happen? I’ve heard of people who get injuries like this and I’ve heard them talk about how debilitating it is and how sometimes, they want to kill themselves because it hurts so bad. And I would feel sorry for them and think “I hope to GOD that never happens to me.”
So much for “hoping.”
My favorite part of that entire day is when the pharmacist told me that I needed to stay away from people with infectious diseases because the steroids will lower my ability to fight infection.
I looked at her, all white in the face with fear, and said “Oh noes! For how long will I be at risk? Because I am flying on a plane at the end of the month!”
She looked at me all puzzled and said “Um, are you flying to a hospital?”
“Um, no! To Chicago!”
She started laughing AT ME and said “Oh, you’re fine! Just stay away from hospitals and sick people.”
Yeah, obviously she doesn’t remember That Asshole who got on a plane with TB!
Sorry, Lena, but I’m SO wearing a surgical mask on the plane. Because, dude, I don’t want to die.
In closing, I want to say that I’ve re-evaluated what is really important and while I am not comfortable weighing 206 pounds, I realize that what’s important right now is that I take care of my mother fucking neck. I am not going to be going to the gym until the doctor says that I can go back to the gym and I am NOT GOING TO DO ANOTHER DAY OF THE ATKINS DIET. I’m going to eat all of the fruit and hummus and yogurt with granola that I fucking want to eat.
I am embarrassed to have put the weight on and I promise those of you who will come to see me speak at BlogHer that I WILL CRY when I’m up there, because I can’t stop crying every time I think about how frustrated I am with this entire situation. But, I also realize that my weight does not define me as a person and that no one else really cares how much I weigh and that I really need to get over it and just enjoy my life the best that I can while clusters of nerves are being pinched and I am doped up on drugs.
Now, who wants to party with me at BlogHer? (MORE LIKE BLOGHURT!) Come on, you know you want to watch me pop pills and hold my neck while you drink the booze I can’t drink because booze and drugs don’t mix!
No, seriously. Party in my, Lena and Kathy’s room—we even got a room by the elevator, more foot traffic.
Now, I’m probably going to take some time off of blogging, because AREN’T YOU SICK OF HEARING ABOUT MY NECK? I’ve asked a few people who I love because they make me laugh and are amazing writers to guest post for me in the meantime. Be nice to them, shower them with love and comments and don’t forget to pray for My Neck.

When I wrote that last post, I was sleep deprived (still am!) and high on the Legal Drugs (still am!). For the “record”, I did not mean to imply that I am against chiropractors, because I’m not. I just mean to say that I would rather not have any kind of treatment until I know what is causing the pain. The last thing I want it to make it worse, you know?
Last night, after I finally was able to go to bed sometime after 2 in the morning, things took a turn for The Weird and Scary.
Long story short, my body went into shock from the pain.
(Hey! Let’s play a game. Every time I use the word “pain” you get to sock me in the throat!)
Of course my mom wanted to blame the vicodin (you’re having a reaction! Stop taking the drugs! Just pray!) But the ER nurse said it was NOT a reaction to the vicodin, but my body’s way of trying to deal with the overwhelming (rhymes with) Rain.
So, today I have appointments with 2 doctors. Funny how a little a little bit of uncontrollable shaking can make people take your pain seriously!
Whoops. I said it. Go ahead. Sock the SHIT out of me.
You know you want to.

I want to write all about my MRI experience, but I am too busy obsessing over a question that the Technician with a Personality Deficit asked me when he looked at my face as I was about to lay down on the table.
“Is that permanently tattooed eyeliner?”
Obviously, something about my eyeliner struck him as odd (or tattooed) and well, I was stunned for a second because “what’s my eyeliner got to do with any of this, man”?
I tried to act like I wasn’t at all thrown by the question and was all “hahaha! Um, no, it’s not! It’s Revlon! I’m too chicken to tattoo my eyelids.”
Now, I can’t stop thinking about it and why he asked me that. If it were a standard question, would they not have that on the official form of questions, right next to “have you ever had brain surgery?”
Was he just so impressed with my perfect eyelining skillz that he couldn’t resist asking if it was professionally done?
Or…
DO I NEED TO RE-EVALUATE MY EYELINING APPLICATION TECHNIQUE?
I just don’t know why he asked me that (WHY DID HE ASK ME THAT?) and it’s going to bother me for days.
Speaking of days…
My doctor will not receive a copy of the report for ten working days, which means that for at least another, what, two weeks? I will not know what is wrong with my neck.
Ten.
Days.
That’s just too long to wait– Especially when the thought of living with this pain for another MINUTE is too much to bear. And not knowing what’s wrong is starting to scare me. What if it’s something serious? Like, “eyeliner that has been permanently tattooed onto ones eyelids” serious? (That is me, not letting it go!)
Lena’s all up on my jock strap to go to a chiropractor. She swears I just need an adjustment. And it’s hilarious to me how DISTURBED she is that I haven’t booked an appointment yet, because IT WILL WORK! YOU WILL BE HEALED! GO FORTH AND GET THINESELF ADJUSTED!
She’s probably right, however! I am afraid to SNEEZE for fear of paralyzing myself! The thought of letting someone hold my neck in their hands and TWIST IT without first knowing the results of the MRI make me so scared that my vagina feels weak and is trembling.
Luckily, Lena knows how delicate I am when it comes to my body and is being patient with me. (Patient, yet, disturbed.) She remembers the time that I actually claimed my kidneys were “shutting down” from standing in line for seven hours. And I was serious. I was all “My kidneys are faaaaaiiiiiiiilllllling! Standing in line has cost me my kidneys!”
If I can be serious for a minute, I can’t wait for ten days. I don’t think my body can take it. The lack of sleep and exercise is wearing me down. Not to mention the pain.
Oh God, THE PAIN.
I plan on speaking with my doctor tomorrow. He doesn’t know what’s going on, as he’s been on vacation and it was an urgent care doctor who ordered the MRI. Hopefully, he’ll have mercy on me and expedite the test results so that we can figure out the problem and fix it.
I just want to be fixed so that I can enjoy the summer with my kids, so that I can sleep. (What time is it? 2am? It is!)
God, I miss sleep.
And sex.
And the ability to touch my chin to my chest so that I can draw attention to my double chin.
Ah, the little things, people. They’re what make life so great. Enjoy them while you still have a healthy neck because tomorrow you could try to get all fancy in the gym and TEAR THAT SHIT UP.
Seriously.

The MRI is scheduled for 8:50 this morning.
I’m relieved because I want to know what’s wrong with my neck and how it can be fixed. I can’t live with this kind of pain. I’m also nervous as hell because I’ve decided to NOT take the valium that was prescribed to me. I felt too guilty asking my mom to drive me there and back so early in the morning (see: Issues with accepting help.) I won’t know if that was a bad decision until the moment comes that I’m laying in that God awful contraption, but I am hoping all of the “techniques” that I learned for dealing with anxiety will help carry me through.
The pain became unbearable this weekend and I ended up in urgent care (and you have to believe me when I say my tolerance for pain is THIS HIGH. Proof: No epidurals for me.) That was a complete waste of time. I waited for an hour and a half for an Asshole Doctor to basically look at me like “Um, you have an MRI on Monday, so, WHY ARE YOU HERE AGAIN?”
He also scolded me for only taking vicodin at night. “You must take it every six hours for this kind of pain!”
Well, excuuuuuuuse me for having 3 kids to take care of throughout the day and wanting to be alert and conscience CONSCIOUS to make sure they are safe!
I do it for The chiiiiiiiiiildren.
I was able take it every six hours this weekend, since PigHunter was here to watch the kids and let me tell you, 1,000 mg of vicodin every six hours = Good Times.
At first, they made me horribly sick, and I would cry. But by the last dose I took before bed last night, I was saying things like “man, I can see how people get hooked on this stuff!”
(But don’t worry. I’m too afraid of organ damage to get addicted to pills. I am afraid to take Tylenol, people. However, if they can’t fix this pain, then you should probably start to worry.)
50 minutes until I must leave, I suppose I should stop typing and get ready to meet the MRI Machine.
Shit.

You know that post that I wrote about hitting the gym early in the morning? Yeah, well, I wrote that sometime last week and had it in draft mode until yesterday. Since I wrote it, my body decided to freak the hell out on me and well, I’m currently doped up on vicodin and muscle relaxers.
I don’t know if I hurt myself at the gym or if something else is going on with my body, but I am waiting for a phone call to have an MRI done ASAP. I have severe neck pain that has reduced me to bed rest. I think I may puke at any time and can’t stop crying because it hurts so fucking bad. I can’t move my neck, it hurts to cough, laugh, lay down, sit down, walk. Basically, it hurts to exist.
The doctor is concerned because I have a “significant deficit” of strength on the left side of my body, which is why I have to have an MRI and also a neurological exam.
(Phone call already placed to doctor regarding my options to be KNOCKED OUT during the MRI because hello? Am claustrophobic! Think I may die in there!)
I’m pissed off because I was told no working out until we figure out what’s going on with my body and well, I’m going to be speaking on a panel at BlogHer. A panel about weight loss blogs and I have been trying to damn hard to lose this weight and now I can’t even get out of bed without crying and saying things like “I can’t liiiiiiiive like thiiiiiiiiiiis.” Man, I’m going to feel like a big asshole on that panel. “I lost a lot of weight and blogged about it and haha! Look at me now!”
I know that’s not the point of the panel, but on a personal level, it’s hard to not feel like a jackass. (That said, if you’re going to be at BlogHer, I hope you’ll come see me speak, I promise not to be “Debbie Downer”. In fact, if you ask nicely, I may even do The Monkey for you.)
Anyway, I probably shouldn’t be writing anything while under the influence of legal drugs, so I think I’ll wrap it up for now. Just please keep your fingers crossed that nothing serious is wrong with me and that I’ll be back in the gym very soon because I NEED TO BE IN THE GYM, PEOPLE.