Spinal Injury Reminder

I've often mentioned in this blog about struggling with spinal pain every day.  I mention it often because it is a significant daily pain.  Some days are better than others, however, some days I use a cane.  Some days I can't stand any longer than necessary to move from one spot to another.  Even though the pain stops me in my tracks often or even drops me to my knees, the pain has become a 'normal' every day thing so I actually do think of it as 'normal'.  I understand that and I accept that.  It isn't until I actually see some imaging of my spine that I am reminded of the severity of these injuries and these occasional reminders bring anger to the forefront.

Why anger?  I get angry because the Air Force dragged their feet while I was in such intense pain that I could not sleep or think clearly.  Worse yet, they were actually a bit obstinate in acknowledging even my first line-of-duty injury nevermind acknowledging my extensive injuries flaring up in a subsequent line-of-duty injury a year later.  This isn't a blog entry to discuss all I lost during this period nor to list all the details about how the Air Force seemed to fight me through every step of my diagnosis and treatment but, generally speaking, let's just say that those who should have helped or even could have helped, generally, did not.  This is why I get angry whenever I am reminded of this dark period in my life.  

I couldn't sleep, I couldn't stand, I couldn't sit, and I could barely walk due to the intense pain yet the Air Force refused to do any imaging for months and even refused to provide any medical treatment throughout every step of the way.  The pain felt like I had a red-hot railroad spike driven into my spine and ice picks jammed through my feet.  My legs would sometimes go numb and I could not move them whatsoever.  On top of that, each step of my recovery was a fight with the Air Force.  As a result, when I see images of these injuries that clearly left a mangled spine, all those memories of how the Air Force treated me through these injuries come flooding back to me like it happened yesterday.  

Don't get me wrong, I had a large circle of Air Force friends who routinely called me from around the globe to see how I was doing all throughout this ridiculously long treatment and Medical Evaluation Board process.  This large group of friends knew I was frustrated and, in their words, "getting screwed" by the Air Force.  But...  it seemed like all those who had the authority and choice to either help me or make my life even more miserable...  as if the constant pain wasn't enough...  they did what they could to make my life more miserable.  

What was really frustrating was how I was being treated at my own air base in the northeast as well as by this Medical Evaluation Board in Texas.  In short, far too many people around me (many, not all, some who weren't in positions of authority were empathetic, supportive and simply great) acted as though I was exaggerating my injuries or even outright lying about these injuries especially as the Medical Evaluation Board dragged their feet, month to month, year to year.  I was treated as an outcast.  People I worked with for years actually, literally, turned their backs on me whenever I would approach and then ignore me, unless, of course, there was an emergency of some sort on the base that required my training, skills and experience.  Then and only then, they would all turn to me, step back, and let me extinguish all the fires before once again turning their backs on me and ignoring me.  That was frustrating.  Yet, I continued to do my job to the best of my abilities considering my injuries, the pain, the difficulty getting around and the severe lack of sleep.  At best, I was only getting about two hours of very restless, constantly interrupted sleep each night when I was supposed to be getting eight hours of crew rest each night.

The annoying thing about experiencing anger over and over again related to these spinal injuries is that this recurring anger always brings me back to the earliest stages of the grief process which means that I, once again, need to work through all the stages of grief to get back to a normal and stable place.  

When I first viewed this latest imaging (at right, imaging which was actually for a different purpose), I was instantly reminded of the first full set of MRI images of my full spine years after I had already been medically retired as only a ridiculously low 10% disabled by the Medical Evaluation Board.  I stood in front of a neurosurgeon as we reviewed the imaging, one vertebra and disk at a time through my entire spine.  In short, the surgeon was stunned that I was able to stand in front of him as he reviewed my imaging.  He actually said, "Looking at these images, you should not be able to stand here in front of me."  As he was telling me that my spinal injuries are so extensive that surgery is out of the question, in my head, I was getting angrier and angrier at the Air Force Medical Evaluation Board's evaluation which rated my disability at only 10%.  I also couldn't help but be reminded of all the grief they gave me about acknowledging and treating these injuries.  Then I see images such as this one shown here in this blog entry and I get angry all over again as it vividly brings me back to the memories of all the fighting with the Board and even some on my own home base.

The condition of my spinal injuries is clearly worsening and this one image shown here shows just one tiny portion of my spinal injuries but it is clear that there are major problems.  The sudden bends in my spine should not be there and were never there before...  the spacing is horrendous (I've shrunk three inches due to my spinal injuries...  three inches!)...  it is clear that my spine is worsening.  When I see my spine zig-zagging, right and left, with sudden changes in direction as we see in this image, it makes me wince just looking at the image.  

When I first read the radiologist's report from this latest imaging just a few weeks ago and saw this image in the report, I truly was a bit horrified, angry and even holding back tears.  I may have even had some bile rising in my throat as I tried to hold back vomit from the shock of what I saw.  It was like getting a sucker punch to the stomach that knocked me all the way back through time to the period of my line-of-duty injuries.

Ironically, this latest imaging wasn't about checking on my spinal injuries.  It was about getting a routine check of my bone density.  My primary illness, systemic mast cell disease, causes too much heparin to be dumped into my body (along with many other mast cell mediators which cause numerous other problems) and too much heparin is known to cause bone loss in the form of osteoporosis.  Because of this, we routinely check my bone density to ensure I am not developing any bone loss.  I also experience a significant amount of bone pain due to this primary illness so that is another reason to be checking on my bone density routinely.  

On the positive side, my bone density is still much higher than average.  This would explain why bone marrow biopsies have previously caused bent needles and needles stuck in my bone as they try to penetrate through my bone and into my bone marrow.  Anyway, high bone density is a good thing and my bone density is still very high.  

On the negative side, this latest imaging shows just a small window to my spinal injuries and the view isn't pretty.  It is actually a bit shocking to see, even for me.  I get angry and I'm actually holding back tears whenever I see this imaging.  I expected my injuries to be healing over time, not worsening.  This also makes me wonder what the rest of my spine looks like today although, admittedly, I'm probably better off not knowing at this point.

It is an interesting thing...  our brain constantly adapts and we can train ourselves to ignore chronic pain and get fairly comfortable in a "new normal" but reading a medical report and especially seeing imaging can be like a jarring sucker punch to the gut that opens the flood gates to reality as well as to the past.