Drip Drip Drip

It has tipped it down all day and as of 3.30pm as I type, Bean hasn't had a walk. Neither of us are keen. 

Perhaps if it eases in the next couple of hours... Then again, perhaps we'll stay in the cosy study enjoying the fire, and make up for it with two walks tomorrow.

Yesterday's consultation with A, the neurosurgeon was interesting. It turns out that the disc hasn't just extruded, but it is severed. Part of it is still in place between the vertebrae (L5 and S1), the other bit is hanging about next to the sciatic nerve. Apparently it has nowhere to go. This means that sciatic pain continues to be a possibility, and that back pain is likely forever (because some of the padding has gone). 

The good news is that there is currently no need for surgery. It is likely that the useless bit of disc will be absorbed into my body, although A couldn't tell me what percentage chance there is of that happening. 

It is just possible it won't reabsorb and that my body will react against it as a 'foreign body' and cause inflammation, which would result in acute sciatica again. If that happens he will arrange an urgent MRI and a quick appointment, then surgery to remove that bit of disc.

I am sending absorption thoughts to my lumbar spine.

All being well he will see me in three months' time to assess my progress, and then hopefully sign me off. 

The best thing was that I saw the actual MRI imagery. How fascinating. I could clearly see the blob of disc (although of course I wouldn't have had a clue what it was without his interpretation). And I could see everything else too - who ever thought that it would be possible to have a view of your insides without a knife? And without pain.

The worst thing was that A was not a great communicator: he was self-important and patronising (a typical consultant?). I had to press him on several things to get the full picture - even to see the images. I'm not sure if he thought I was a pain in the derriere, or respected me by the end of the appointment (all of 10 minutes). 

Mind you I am quite sure he hated me calling him A to his face, but he called me by my first name, so fair's fair. 

I got the information I needed, and wanted. I came away happy. And if one of the trio of medics for my back has to be a poor communicator I would rather it was the consultant than my physio or GP of whom I see much more.

I slept very well last night. No surgery. Woop woop!