So I was rushed to the ER of St. Vincent's in the West Village on Tuesday night. I have been fighting with sciatica for 2 months now and sciatica finally won. I ended up flat on my back on the kitchen floor writhing in pain. My sweet husband brought a mattress for me to be more comfortable but I felt more like I was back somewhere in 1994 at a bad frat party. But I digress...
We were in touch with my orthopedist all throughout the day. After 6 hours of taking narcotics (prescribed of course) I wasn't any better. I couldn't stand, walk or worst of all... use the restroom. It was time to go to the hospital.
I don't know how it happened but the two female ambulance drivers were straight out of the Naked Gun 33 1/3 movie. The gurney didn't fit in our elevator so they had to put me in a wheelchair.... now did I mention that I COULDN'T EVEN MOVE without excruciating pain? They didn't care, I got up to my hands and knees when my back started spasming and I started screaming. The next thing I knew my arms were wrapped around a soft, fleece-wearing woman with my face jammed into her bosom. I was still screaming, shaking and sobbing. Finally I was in the chair, holding myself up with my arms, sitting with one cheek hanging off the edge and still sobbing and shaking. And did I mention I hadn't showered since the morning before? Anyone who knows me knows what my hair looks like when I don't shower-- think medusa meets Gene Wilder.
So that's how I was brought out of my apartment, into the lobby where my superintendent watched in horror as I shrieked and wept as they put me on the stretcher and proceeded to BUMP INTO EVERY WALL, DOOR JAMB AND LAMP POST in the short distance between my lobby and the ambulance.
Finally I was in the ambulance, safe and sound and sobbing. This pain was worse than labor by far. The gurney ride into the hospital was more of the same BUMPING into everything. It was to the point where other people in the hospital were rushing to help them 'steer.'
Luckily the ER wasn't too busy and I was able to get some more narcotics. The physicians assistant would try one thing and it wouldn't be enough to relieve the pain so he'd try something else. I ended up taking everything from oxycodone to dilaudid before I finally was able to NOT FEEL ANYTHING. THANK YOU SCIENCE.
I spent the next 2 days doped up and was finally able to walk on day 2, thanks to doctors sticking two 5" needles into my spine for something called a cortisone epidural. Good times. Here's what I saw most of the time in the hospital:
I came home yesterday, took a delicious shower to wash off 3 days of no-shower-hospital-gook. And I made it right before the giant snowstorm of 2010. Here was the view the morning I left, it's looking downtown from the West Village. My favorite place in New York City.
Hopefully I'm on the mend. I'm still taking many addictive narcotics and have an MRI and doctor's appointments the next few weeks. I need to get better so I can get back to taking care of my boys and making my jewelry. In my opinion, the glass is always half full. I'll make it!
