Sherod has had awful back pain for years now. The cause and the cure are complicated. The pain has been life-diminishing, really for both of us, but especially for Sherod. I am sitting in a waiting room while he gets yet another Lumbar Epidural Steroid Injection, which doctors keep insisting should help. I am along because I will need to drive him home after the procedure.
To say this is hellish doesn’t quite convey what it’s like. These procedures always run late and sitting in waiting rooms has taken up a whole lot of time in my life. I can’t help but hear ca-ching each time another patient comes in–and lots come in. I wonder about the snake oil factor. And then, there is my experience of painful medical procedures as a child that combines with an overactive imagination and my struggle with boundaries. Because the thought of either my child or my husband having to undergo any procedure that will cause them pain elicits in me the most primitive, protective and stressed out response imaginable. I want to go in and yank that catheter out of the Dr’s hand, beat him up, and then sit and sob. It is all out of proportion to the situation, I know. And being married to someone means you do the tough stuff. I just really am hating watching my strong, beautiful husband deal with the realities of aging. I keep wanting to turn back the clock. Say a little prayer for us.