Pop

Pop is a sound I've come to dread. Not the sugary crackle of a refreshing soda, but the actual distinct sound that can only be described as a literal pop. I heard the sound twice on Friday, and am still in recovery mode.

The first pop was linked to my computer. In truth, the pop came on Thursday. When I first tried to turn on the machine, nothing happened at all. I unplugged everything and tried again. Eventually, after a soft little pop, the motor ground to life and all was as per usual. I took this as a sign that the computer's days were seriously numbered and took the opportunity to purchase some extra memory sticks in order to download my photo files, many images of which exist nowhere else. Too late. That little pop appears to be the computer's last gasp. No matter what I did on Friday, the machine could not be resusitated, and so the photo files are gone for good - unless I can find a computer tech who can give it a temporary boost so the images can be downloaded.

Many, many thanks to Donna and Eric for anticipating the need for a laptop back-up plan.

Less than an hour after the computer confrontation, I found myself poking about in my craft closet in an attempt to gather together some weaving and felting equipment and supplies that I was giving to friend Merrily for her birthday. My much-loved but little used table loom was to be included in the gift pile, but it was wedged haphazardly in the back of the closet and in need of one big tug to loosen it. Without thinking of my recent back issues, I stepped up and gave a heave. That's when pop number two made itself known.

The sound eminating from my back wasn't the worst of the experience. The immediate sensation as what I imagine an elastic band must feel. Picture a long thick elastic band running the length of my back. When I tugged at the loom, it seemed as if the elastic was being pulled through an opening in the middle of my spine when a disembodied hand was giving it a good twang - hence the source of the pop sound. While this was happening, I couldn't breath. Couldn't inhale even a tiny bit and had no desire to exhale, only get air in not out. Suddenly my head seemed to come unglued. There was a terrible roaring sound in my ears that was almost immediately joined by a ringing noise. I wanted to pass out. No, I wanted to vomit. No, I wanted to lie down. Not move... Went into the bathroom in case I was going to be sick. Wasn't. Took the opportunity to splash cold water on my face. No doubt I was going into a bit of shock. Thankfully had the presence of mind to call my neighbour Maryilyn who happily drove me to my doctor's office (I just happened to have an appointment scheduled that am re another matter - updating him re latest oncology developments). Was sent to hospital for x-rays. Still awaiting results. Given 'script for hydromorph to help with pain managment. Ran into friend Maggie at pharmacy. She drove me home. George and Merrily were patiently waiting for my arrival at home - we were going to have a birthday lunch to mark Merrily's day while she opened her loom and other goodies. They brough enough food to feed an army, so my larder is well stocked.

Since Friday I've been spending most of my time on my sofa, which is much firmer than my bed. For the first 24hrs my diet was almost exclusively hydromorph and dexamethasone with the odd bit of food to help digest the meds. The drugs allowed me to find one comfortable position that I could lie in for a prolonged period of time, thereby greatly reducing the chance of reinjuring my back. Unfortunately, nothing helped give relief when I coughed - amazing how many little muscles go into that activity.

It's now Sunday. I'm able to get up and move around a bit. Lifting nothing more than a fork. Stopped using the hydromorph yesterday am. Still quite sore, especially when I cough, but nothing like it was. I can sit up for brief periods of time. Even managed to sleep part of the night in my bed last night. When I am up and about, I wear a velcro back brace for extra support.

All in all, I'm okay. Terribly humbled. Pride much wounded. But okay. Hey, it's taken my mind off my brain for a bit. And if there is any issue re the spinal cord, I'm seeing a neuro-surgeon in a couple of days so he'll know what to do about it. Yup, things could definitely be worse.