When I left ya’ll I was hobbling out of a certain hospital in a certain city in NW Ohio.
I felt better than I had in… quite a long time. I think that the fact that I had been so severely anemic for so long had me believing that how I felt on a day to day basis was normal. And normal for me really wasn’t that bad. That being said I felt like I could run a marathon now, I was practically bionic. Well, minus the bad back, but certainly that would be resolved easily enough. A little ice, a little heat, some muscle relaxers and a few days off.
I followed the directions I was given, determined to behave and stop being such a damn pain in the ass to all of my caregivers and limped into my Doctors office the next day.
He walked into the exam room holding my folder. My Doc normally has a permanent “worry wrinkle” on his forehead, it’s part of his charm, and today was no different. He dropped the folder down on the counter top and looked me over. ”You’ve had a rough few days, eh?”
“Yeah. You could say.”
“Epi, I’m not going to sugar coat this. You need to find another job.”
Blink. Blink. Blink. I had no response. Internally, I was screaming. He did NOT just tell me that I can’t work as a Paramedic. Not after everything that I’ve been through to get to this point, what the HELL? My heart dropped.
Doc pulled my MRI results out of the manila folder.
I was screwed.
L4-L5, and L5-S1. Both herniated. I broke down and cried in the office. Right in front of the doctor. I cried as I checked out, I cried all the way to the car, and the entire drive home. I cried until I couldn’t cry anymore. He had written me off work for an entire month, which I knew wasn’t going to sit well with management. Hell, it was probably going to get me fired.
The next day, I was let go from the best service I had ever worked for. And after only getting to work for 6 weeks. To say that I was devastated would have been the understatement of the freaking century. That was January 11th. Three weeks later and I’m still absolutely heartbroken.
As time went on the pain in my back wasn’t getting any better. It moved from severe muscular lower back pain to severe muscular lower back pain with continuous spasms and sciatica. If you haven’t ever had issues with your sciatic nerve, consider yourself very fortunate. If you have, then you know what I’m talking about. It’s brutal. The fire-like pain that was shooting down my left leg (and eventually my right leg as well) was more than I could mentally deal with. I started to think that I was really losing it. I was absolutely inconsolable. I lost my job, I was in constant debilitating pain, I couldn’t take care of myself, let alone my children or any potential patients…
Good God, I was a train wreck. I started pulling away from my friends and family locally, and finally my online family. My family doctor had been keeping a close eye on my blood count, which thank God was stable (albeit a tad on the low side still at 10), but was ultimately worried about my level of pain. I was reluctant to take any narcotics, and dead set against surgical interventions. After two straight weeks of agony, I relented. He wrote me a script for some high dose percocet and referred me to a pain clinic and a surgeon.
A pain clinic? He wants me to go to a pain clinic? I take PATIENTS to a pain clinic.
I began to become paranoid that I’d be perceived as a drug seeker. Vicodin wasn’t helping with my pain at all. Percocet was just knocking me out. Two days before my pain clinic appointment I found myself in my doctors office yet again. Again in tears. Humiliated. Defeated. Begging for some relief. Pleading for some way to get just a few minutes of time where I wasn’t so consumed by the constant searing pain in my back and legs. I remember sitting in that office truly believing that I was losing my mind. My life was no longer my own. I was no longer in the position of being a caregiver, I was practically an invalid. Incapable of doing something as simple as rolling over in bed without crying out in pain.
Breaking point, meet Epijunky.
My family Doc was out of town that day and I was seeing the office Nurse Practitioner. He had worked as an RN, a Paramedic, and an EMT. He was my people. He was my people when I really… truly needed people to talk me down off the cliff that I was teetering on. ”Epi… I’m not going to tell you that you should continue to work as a Medic. But I’m not going to tell you that you can’t. Let’s get you through some of this pain. Let’s get your head clear, and we can explore the rest of it after that. Go to your pain clinic appointment. Get that epidural done with the steroids, and see where you are after that. One step at a time, ya know?”
I nodded. I wanted to have some hope. That was all.
“Epi… I have friends who have worse back injuries than yours. They’re still working. Keep your chin up.” He patted me on the back as I walked out of the exam room.
I could have tackled him, had I been physically able. It just took a simple statement from a caregiver to pull me out of a state of mind that was so low I couldn’t even wrap my head around it. Just two minutes. No drugs, no interventions at all. Just a little dialog between two people. I hobbled out of the office yet again. The difference was, this time I wasn’t in tears. I had a little bit of hope.
That was four days ago. Yesterday was my pain clinic appointment. I wont bore you with the details of a caudal epidural, all I’ll say is that it’s not the most pleasant experience. It’s one that I hope to never repeat, actually. But if that’s what it takes to get me back on a truck, I’ll do it. I’ll do anything. I’ll even have the surgery done. I just want to be back.
And sadly, I really don’t know when I’ll be able to get back.
Right now I’m praying that continued steroid treatments and building up my core muscles will keep me from repeating this injury. I’m praying that I can get back, very soon, in any capacity, and resume my role as a fixer.
No longer a patient.
I guess what I didn’t realize was that I wasn’t just a patient through this battle. I was a fixer still. I just had to fix myself.
**********
Thanks to those of you who stuck around to read my story… I realize that it wasn’t a guts and glory EMS post, but it was important to me. Never ever forget that just the simplest of statements can help your patient more than you can imagine. Sometimes words can work miracles.
Be safe out there,
Epijunky
Finding yourself a patient is a shock. I managed a recovery to active riding status after my partner rolled a patient and our (old style, “two-man”) stretcher onto me out of the unit. Drugs suck, PT hurts, but dedication can make one hell of a difference.
Keep at it!
Thank you! That means a lot! Sometimes it’s all you can place your hopes on :)
Feel better Epi!
Thoughts and prayers sent Epi. I’ve been dealing with a herniated L4/5 for 39 years. It’s not easy, but it can be managed.
Hang in there. I know people who have come back from injuries that had doctors telling them they’d never work again, just from sheer determination and hard work.
I think there is no doctor out there who understands how determined you are to get back to work.
I hate being a patient. I know I was a thorn in the sides of the RN’s when I had gall stones. I hope you get better soon.
:,(
Hey Epi… First of all, don’t thank me for fleurs and a bear. I should thank YOU for continually being such an inspiring person. Here you are, at a very low point in your life, and what do you do? You put up blog posts. You’ve shown us how to overcome adversity. You’re showing us that even though things can suck, there are moments that can give us hope.
Secondly, you CAN do this. I believe everything happens for a reason. For all you know, another place needs EpiJunky more once you’re better.
On that note, stick with the PT – it really does help.
And take care of yourself. Don’t make me come over there! <3
Epi,
Don’t ever apologize for not writing a “guts and glory” post. That is not what EMS about. THIS. This is what EMS is about. Sharing your joys and sorrows, you trying to teach us from your story, you fighting with all you have to stay in your dream job, and the people that surround you to try and help you heal. That’s the true nature of EMS – the family that it creates.
You are a fighter and one of the strongest people that I have never met. If anyone can beat this, it will be you. Keep fighting and fixing.
So far have only read 2 blogs but agree w/ JustMyBlog that you are an inspiration. You def have the passion & determination to fight for the job you love. After being dx w/ MS 6 yrs ago I let qthing lapse, a decision that nearly killed me. Though I had to start from beginning I recently went through training & became recert. It was a decision that req alot of thought & self testing to make sure I was capable. This isn’t about me but wanted to let you know there’s hope & if I can do it I know you can. Thoughts & prayers are w/ you on your road to recovery.
Hi Epi!
I’ve never commented before but I’ve loved reading your blog. You have such spirit and write in a way that truly captures EMS as it should be -full of providers working to provide their patients the best care possible while giving each other support and creating a community to improve our ability to treat patients (and to make it through day-after-day, call-after-call). You truly are a fighter and an inspiration.
I am so very sorry to hear that you are not well but have faith that you can push through it! Remember to take all the time you need to heal yourself. You’ll be back on the truck soon enough.
We’re all pulling for you.
Hugs,
Anna
I just wanted to thank everyone for the positive comments, it really means a lot! Ya’ll are the best!
Be safe out there!
Epijunky
Epi,
I have been where you are, it is no fun. See the surgeon.I did and got sent to an interventional radiologist. He did amazing things for me. Get with a Physiotherapist (I think you guys call them physical therapists) and build up your core muscles. I worry about too many steroids and your H&H. I have anemia problems too, so I know….been there.
My back and neck injury was a wake up call for me. I had one firefighter EMT ask me what I learned from it, I thought he was nuts, but realized that I had actually learned a lot about myself and life, in the process. Life is a journey, and this is just part of it. Like it or not.
If you believe in yourself, you can do this. Be strong. You are in my thoughts and prayers. Women are like tea bags, you never know how strong they will be until they are in hot water;)God speed.
{Hugs}
Kellye
First off, so glad you’re still alive. I mean that in all seriousness. When bloggers of other professions stop posting, I usually figure that something came up in their lives. When bloggers in our line of work fall silent, there’s always a small, nagging concern that the worst has happened. So when I saw the update come across my Facebook feed, I confess to breathing a small sigh of relief.
Secondly, I have every confidence that you will work your way though rehab/surgery/whatever and come out on the other side able to continue to make your mark on the world in some way. You are a fixer and a carer, and we need those not only in the backs of ambulances, but also in hospitals and hospices and many, many other venues. It may require a slight retooling of your skill set and credentials, but you cn accomplish that. You have skills and qualities that transcend light-duty restrictions.
Finally, “guts and glory” has never been why I read your blog. You write about LIFE though an EMT lense. You highlight beauty or compassion or humor or humility in every vignette you share. THAT is why I read you. I will continue to read what you have to say, I think, regardless of where life takes you.
Sorry things are going poorly Epi. Hang in there though I worked with another EMT who is now a medic also and she had some back problems and would use a lidocaine patch to help with the pain. She’s still in the field so don’t dispair it just might be a little while before you’re back in the rig.
In a way, I think this is a “guts and glory” EMS post: You spill your “guts” (your struggles) on the blog; however, you eventually emerge victorious in all your “glory.” I’m a strong believer that someone’s true strength isn’t revealed until they become a patient, and you just proved to us that you are indeed One Tough Cookie.
I’ve currently navigating my own road back to a “fixer” route (I too had to leave a service a loved when the Army ordered my husband to a military base halfway across the country) and I’m working my way back to National Registry certification.
Best of luck, girl!
Yeah, what everyone else is saying…
You ain’t licked until you quit.
So don’t quit looking for a solution.
And we all could use the reminder-
Words are important.
We are often, often, often dealing with folks who have reached the end of their rope and wondering what will be their next move.
We need to remember to be uplifting and an aid to healing.
Thanks for that.
My first post here. I have to agree with what the others have said.
Having had L5/S1 trouble myself, I understand your pain all too well. So please listen to me when I say “Allow yourself to be the patient”. There a lot of people who take the pain meds until they no longer need them, then stop taking them–you just never hear their stories because there is no dramatic story to tell. Chronic pain will take its toll if you persist on being “tough”. Do everything the physical therapists tell you to to do (or not do). Ask about a TENS unit; it has helped me.
The only thing more painful than this is a recurrence. If you take the time to build up your back and core muscles you may never experience one. What has helped me in the last 10 months more than anything is the last 7 years since my injury is Yoga. Not the Power Vinyasa crap that looks like military calisthenics, but gentle yoga and Yin yoga, which focuses on stretching your connective tissues. The meditative aspects of the practice have helped, too.
Don’t rush into the surgery. I’ve known too many people who have had it and seen no improvement, or have gotten worse. I’m not saying not to have it, just that you should exhaust all your other options first.
You’ve acknowledged that you are a patient. Good. Now you must learn to BE PATIENT. There is no quick fix to this. You can recover fully, but you won’t if you convince yourself that you are in better shape than you really are. Remember what I said about recurrences? They are MUCH more painful, as impossible as that can be to imagine.
You’re not going to be in shape to do much physical rehab until your parts have had time to rest and heal. They say that everything happens for a reason; it could be that you need to learn to accept not being the Fixer every waking minute of the day, and need to learn to accept the ministrations of others. Learn that, and you’ll be a better Fixer when you’re back on your feet again. Part of that is by not beating yourself up. There is nothing to feel guilty about, and self-flagellation has never been proven to have any curative effects.
This may be the most difficult challenge you ever face, because the way through it contradicts everything you’ve ever done, and contrasts with the narrative of who Epi is. I have faith in you, as do your friends and family.
Antibubba
Ok…here’s the deal. Back injuries suck. Me? I’ve been lucky…nothing more than some nasty muscle strains over the decades…but even those took me off the street for a couple weeks or better.
20 years…heck even 10 years ago, “find a new job” would be the one and only answer. I lost 2 close colleagues (and a few other folks) to those kinds of back injuries back in the day.
Since that time, I’ve seen coworkers and employees come through with as bad or worse injuries than they had, and while they may be off the street (either out or on light duty) for a few months, they come back to work.
So…yes it sucks. But unlike the days of yore where your type of injury meant the end of a career…it often doesn’t have to be the case today.
So…chin up…I know this is a tough time, but you can get through this. As the NP mentioned…folks with your type of injury are often still working as medics. It will just take some time.
Hugs,
Bob
Fuck, Epi, I don’t even know what to say. If you need to chat 337-780-9356. That’s all I can tell you. Don’t have anything else to offer that wouldnt sound like cheap cliche reassurances.
If you asked me though, I don’t think your time as a paramedic is over just yet.
Stay Strong Epi.
-MM
Hey Epi,
Keep on fighting! We all know you’ve got it in you – you’ve proved that over and over and over again!
Wishes for a speedy and safe recovery from across the ocean…
IM
Hi, Epi
I haven’t commented on your blog before, but I started reading your blog when you were going through training, tests, etc. Now, I am so sorry to hear about your back. I’m crying as I type this. I hope that you can make a comeback! I know you’ve got the strength of character! The very best of luck!
Good Lord woman, where to begin….
Read this post, and the one before it. I’ve started to type a response, deleted it, restarted it, and basically have been working on it for the past 45 minutes. I’m just gonna say to hell with it and hit the post button.
You’re my best friend. You mean the world to me. Damn straight I sat in that waiting room with you, and the hospital room, and brought you a turkey wrap, thought about shutting down the tube system with you, made you laugh, and shared your tears. And I’m still bringing you get-well presents.
Honey, when I had my little ICU adventure, I came closer to death than you know. Closer than anyone knows. If I can beat that and make it back onto a first-due squad, so can you. Just like I told you during medic school, you will make it across that finish line, even if I have to physically pick you up and throw you across the line.
That’s a promise. And you know how I am about promises. ;-)
I don’t have a ton of good advice about the back stuff…but I agree with what everyone else says: It’s not over until it’s over. My EMT cert lapsed, I got divorced and moved a few hundred miles to a state where I would have to be a firefighter to work in EMS(yeah…no), but I know…it’s not over until it’s over.
I might not be a certified EMT right now, but it doesn’t mean it’s forever, and it doesn’t mean I can’t find another outlet. I’m still an EMT in my heart and in my gut. You might not be working the truck, but you are still a medic in your head, heart and gut. Keep plugging.
Folks call you an inspiration, and you probably shrug them off. But it’s true. Remember your post about a year ago about how a year makes a big difference? That post came on the eve of my husband filing for divorce, basically taking away the life I had built for myself. I’m building it back up again, and every day I think about that post. It was one of the reasons I kept plugging through those rough times. It’s been a year since then….and you were right about it making all the difference in the world.
Give yourself a year from this injury, and see where you are too.
(Another long time lurker)
I am so sorry that you are going through this pain and grief right now. Please don’t give up – you have the guts and determination which has got you this far, and I know from reading your previous posts that you are strong enough to do whatever it takes to get yourself back on your feet again, no matter how long it takes. It may take time, but you will get there.
Patience and strength.
Epi,
I’ve been remiss in not keeping up. I’m sorry you are going through such a rough time. I’m confident you will pull through this because you are a fighter and a damn determined woman. I know it’s painful and scary right now, but keep your chin up and work hard to get through this. My wife is currently dealing with something very similar and it’s hard to only be able to hold her hand when she hurts, but you are a lot like her and I know you aren’t going to let this beat you.
I’m praying for you!