When the Tall Tree Falls.

I’m sure by now most of my friends know that I am not well at the moment, but I thought I would write a post for anyone who has not yet heard. Last Saturday I woke up without the use of my right arm. Sharp, stabbing pain and the same sensation as bumping your funny bone, were shooting from my neck all the way down to my right arm into my wrist and hand. The week before I had received two steroid shots in my right shoulder joint for a tear in my upper bicep tendon (my body is a roadmap of pain)…

So I simply assumed that I was having some sort of odd reaction to the steroid injections and/or PT stretches I had been doing for my shoulder. I called up my orthopedic specialist and he told me to go straight to the emergency room. I do not like to make a fuss about myself and the nearest ER I will go to (I REFUSE to go to Matsu Regional, a.k.a. “Death Valley” unless I am about to drop dead without care), is a two and a half hour drive away. But the pain was ridiculously intense to the point that even I, the stoic, mighty oak, was near tears. And not having use of my dominant arm is kind of problematic, so after getting the children situated, I had John drive me in.

I calmly described the problem and the background of the steroid injections to the triage nurse who immediately whisked me away to the back. I was surprised, because normally the wait time to even get seen by a physician is longer than the drive in! I had brought a book and everything! In back I repeated the whole spiel to the emergency physician. “Does your neck hurt?” he asked. I kind of scoffed and told him that my neck always hurts. My neck has been hurting for 15 years. I have tried every pillow made by man but every morning I wake up in pain. I told him I wasn’t there about my constant neck pain; I was there because my fucking arm didn’t work. He ordered an MRI of my neck and brain. It was only then that it even dawned on me that my symptoms could be neurological (guess that’s why I’m not a doctor!)

I spent a little over an hour in the MRI machine. At first the Doc came back with some really bad news and told me I was being admitted. Cue COVID test and much worry. I won’t go into detail about that, because fortunately the radiologist had made a mistake and the “only” thing wrong with me is three herniated discs in my cervical spine that are squishing my spinal chord. Phew! Dodged a bullet there! I was released and sent off to the see a neurosurgeon.

All this travel back and forth to Anchorage is very hard for me. While I have a very capable “crew” back home to handle things, it always stresses me out. It did give me an opportunity to finally spend some time in our city home, The Dreadfort. It is named The Dreadfort, because when we were looking for a place, I had some specific criteria in mind. Most gals might want a quiet, safe city neighborhood where everything is neat and tidy. I was like: “Find me the gnarliest place downtown or in Russian Jack! I want it to look so scary the hobos and thieves will think twice about even looking at it. I want The Dreadfort!” We found what I wanted just kitty corner of the old cemetery downtown! I will take ghosts over HOA Karens as neighbors any damn day of the week.

And despite the name, The Dreadfort is actually quite cozy. I really enjoyed spending some time there.

While I prefer the quiet of the boreal forest, Anchorage is a nice city. I know many of my friends in Talkeetna don’t think it is, but I have traveled a lot in my younger years and Anchorage really is not a bad place at all. While in the city, I enjoyed visiting a big book store and little conveniences like drive through donuts at Golden Donuts. I also loved the LGBTQ inclusive decor proudly displayed.

My neurosurgeon looked like Negan from The Walking Dead and had a John Wayne themed exam room.

I am home now for three weeks with a cocktail of medications to see if anything improves. So far there has been no improvement at all, but it’s still early on and I’m giving this a chance. The other option is surgical and I will try to avoid that if I can. I absolutely have to have my arm back though. How could I, the Mighty Oak, fall? I am the six foot tall Amazon Bad Bitch of the Backwoods. I cannot be down one arm! I cannot be infirm. This past week has been absolute torture for me. I keep forgetting my arm doesn’t work and trying to grab things which I then drop and break or spill. The casualties so far are: a plate, a carton of eggs, a tub of yoghurt, a bowl of guacamole, and my dignity.

My anxiety is out the roof. I cannot drive a car. I cannot operate the tractor, and this time of year we can get huge dumps of snow. Who will clear the road? I worry about everything. Normally I would paint or sew to temper my anxiety, but I cannot do either of those things. John has been fantastic but he cannot stay home with me all the time. He has to leave for a few days tomorrow and it is a bit daunting.

Tall trees catch much wind.

Chinese idiom

I believe this Chinese saying is originally about wealthy people, but I have always interpreted it a bit differently. The tall tree is the strong one, the one that stands out. I am strong and I certainly stand out. It’s hard to miss me in a crowd. But what happens when the tall tree falls? I had to ask for help and it was super hard to do. I don’t know why it was so hard for me. I always love helping my friends when they need me, but being on the flip side is new for me. I don’t think I’ve been this helpless since I was a child.

I want to extend an enormous “Thank you” to all my friends, neighbors, homies, etc. who have jumped in to help me. You are all wonderful and when I’m better I’d love to buy you all a coffee or find some other way to show you my heartfelt appreciation. I especially wanted to give a shout out to Mia, Karl, and Allen!

I think I’m going to be just fine in the end; I’m just anxious and for the time being, pretty helpless. Tall trees catch much wind and some times their limbs get damaged.