This week’s been one hell of a ride — and not the fun kind either.
Wednesday, I had to make the long four-hour round trip to the pain clinic in Clarksville, Tennessee. Before heading home, I stopped at Golden Corral, thinking a decent meal would get me through the drive. Big mistake. Within ten minutes of leaving, I was sick — violently sick — and ended up puking my guts out every twenty minutes the entire two-hour drive home. I finally threw my hazard lights on, hit the gas close to a hundred, and prayed I’d make it home before I passed out.
Now, here’s the good part — if you can call it that. The pain clinic finally started me on a prescription Roxy 10’s, 90 a month, take one three times a day. So I finally have a little pain relief… but of course, nothing’s ever that simple. The pills make me nauseous all day long. It’s like I either live in pain or live sick — there’s never a middle ground.
Then Monday rolled around, and it was time for another doctor — this one for my leg I’ve been doing physical therapy on for the past six weeks. The bone doctor now thinks I may have a blood clot in that left leg from the wreck that messed it up in May of 2023. So next week’s already packed: a vascular ultrasound Monday at the hospital to hunt down the clot, and then Thursday, a trip to Paris, TN to see a vascular surgeon — just in case they need to operate.
As if that wasn’t enough, they also started me on another six weeks of physical therapy, this time for my back. Remember that fall I took off Matt’s porch in Portland seven weeks ago? Yeah, still not healed. They’re thinking I either tore a muscle or cracked something, so if this therapy doesn’t help, the next step is an MRI.
So yeah, that’s where I’m at. I’m running on fumes, dragging myself from one appointment to the next, trying to keep my head above water. I know I haven’t been posting as often lately, and I hate leaving y’all hanging, but this is why. I’ll write when I can — on the good days, when I can sit long enough and string a few thoughts together without pain or nausea taking me out.
Thanks for sticking with me through this wild, messy, real-life ride. It’s not pretty, but it’s honest — and right now, that’s all I’ve got to give.