It all started last Monday night when I threw my back out. We were out in the yard on her last potty trip before bed, when as I struggled to hold her up, I felt something pop in my back. I wasn't able to stand up straight but I managed to get us both back in the house and into bed. I hoped that a good nights sleep would help my back and that by morning everything would be OK again.
During the night, as the pain grew worse and worse, I had a feeling Tuesday was going to be a difficult day. As morning came, I finally gave up trying to sleep and with some degree of difficulty, got myself out of bed. I attempted to help Lucky stand up so we could get out to the kitchen for breakfast but I could barely move. I managed to lift up her hips and get an arm under her torso but as she walked forward and I went down. After several more attempts, I finally got us into the kitchen. I tried to lean down to pick up her water bowl, so I could fill it with fresh water but couldn't reach it. I got down on my knees and was able to pick up the bowl, but then couldn't get back up. When I finally got up and refilled the bowl with water, I couldn't bend over far enough to put the bowl in front of her. I finally got down on my knees again and was able to push the bowl over in front of her. One accomplishment down, but there was still food, medicine, my own coffee, another potty trip to the yard . . . I didn't know how I was going to get through it all.
Writing about it now, it's almost comical, but at the time, I felt like our world was caving in around me. My "job" is to take care of her and it's a job that I have always done without even thinking about it. It's what I do . . . and to suddenly not be able to do it anymore was such an awful feeling. I kept trying to suck it up and carry on but I could feel myself unraveling as the pain increased with each movement. Once we managed to get through breakfast, I knew I needed to get her outside to go potty and I had no idea how I was going to pull that off. After some awkward maneuvering, I was able to get her up and get the sling underneath her but I couldn't stand back up and each step made me wince in pain . . . then not wincing so much but bordering on howling in pain. As we tried to make out way out the back door and down the steps, Lucky started to lose her balance and I couldn't stop her from falling. Then I couldn't stop myself from crying. When I finally got her back up, I could tell that we had injured her arms in the fall . . . her arms that were finally getting better and now she was limping again and could barely use her arms to steady herself. Her right arm was worse than the left so we kept walking to the right instead of straight, which was jarring my back even more, thus more tears and more whimpering.
I felt horrible in every way imaginable. I felt horrible physically, horrible because I couldn't take care of my dog, horrible because I had injured her when my primary goal in life is to help her, horrible because I didn't know how we were going to get through the rest of the day and I had no idea how long this pain would last. It was a day of defeat for me. Being sleep deprived and in pain certainly made the picture look more bleak and I did more than my share of crying that day.
But in the midst of the pain and tears, we got a most interesting phone call. A guy called and said "Hi, my name is George and I am a friend of Sara's. She wants me to bring you some ionized water to try with Lucky." I had heard of ionized water but didn't really know anything about it and yet, I was opened to hearing what he had to say because something about it felt cosmically orchestrated.
Sara is a friend of ours who lives in southern California. We've never actually met Sara but we had our first phone conversation the day after I adopted Lucky 13 1/2 years ago. She saw the story of Lucky and her adoption on the news and she called to wish us the best in our new life together. We have kept in touch over the years, with occasional cards and phone calls. A little over a year ago, she called out of the blue to tell me that she had been thinking a lot about Lucky and was worried something was wrong. It was a couple weeks after I discovered Lucky had cancer. We've always had this "connection" with Sara, even though we've never even met one another.
So, I ask George what ionized water could do for us and as he is rattling off the list of things it can help with, one of the items caught my attention . . . "joint pain and inflammation." . . . I asked him if he could tell me more about that and he explained that since he started to drink the ionized water, he stopped having back pain. hmm . . . maybe this water was as much for me as it was for Lucky! He said he wanted to drive down from Sacramento to deliver some of this water to us in a day or so. I was in shock that he would drive that far to deliver something to someone he had never met before. He said he didn't mind at all and that it was important to Sara, so it was important to him to get this water to Lucky. I didn't even bother to question whether it was something we should try. The way that it unfolded was enough to tell me that maybe something larger than myself had a hand in making it all come together as it did.
It was something to look forward to, but we still needed to get through the next couple of days. Lucky and I took turns with the ice pack, later in the day a friend came by and gave me a back massage to try and get the muscles in my lower back to loosen up. It definitely helped, and I was able to move enough to get down on the floor and give Lucky a shoulder and arm massage and give her a Reiki treatment. I was still in a lot of pain but I was hopeful that Wednesday was going to be a better day. Those hopes were dashed in the middle of the night when the pain became so intense again, I wasn't able to sleep. I laid there in bed worrying . . . worrying that the pain would never go away, worrying that I wouldn't be able to take care of Lucky, or worse yet, that I would hurt her again by not being able to hold her up properly, worrying that I wouldn't be able to make it to my client appointments on Wednesday. It's interesting what pain can do to a person . . . for me who is a pretty positive person (I've been called "unbendingly optimistic") :-) . . . the pain made it almost impossible for me to think of the positive, and that's not a place I like to be. I tried giving myself Reiki but it was difficult because I couldn't find a comfortable position to stay in for more than 5 minutes at a time. It was a long night.
The night before and the previous day, I would say my pain level was at a 10 or 11 on a scale of 1-10 but once I got up on Wednesday, the pain was only about an 8. That was definitely more manageable but it was still another long day, with Lucky and I taking turns with the ice packs. Her arms weren't doing much better, so we were having more difficulty getting around and she seemed so wiped out. All she wanted to do was sleep. She was so out of it when she was awake that I started to wonder if she was going to leave. Her eyes had lost their sparkle and in the rare moments where she was awake, she didn't look like she was happy to be here anymore. It was a version of Lucky I had never seen before. I didn't want her to pass away that day, not when I was feeling so bad about my inability to take proper care of her.
We were somehow able to get through the day though. Our trips to the yard didn't involve either of us falling, even if they weren't the most comfortable journeys for either of us. I was able to make it to my client appointments and almost hide how much pain I was in. Wednesday night was another rough night of little sleep and lots of pain, but I was pleased when I woke up on Thursday morning . . . . Lucky was still here and my pain level was around 7. George arrived that afternoon with a very large bottle of ionized water. As with most alternative approaches, you never know what kind of results you will get. So much of it depends on the individual and their own unique body chemistry but I was game to give it a try. After a nice visit with George, I filled Lucky's bowl with the special water and poured a glass for myself. I didn't have any expectations really . . . I figured I'd just see what I noticed in the two of us over the course of the next few days.
The first thing I noticed was that night, Lucky didn't look like she was drugged anymore. She had a little bit of a sparkle back in her eye and she was interested in sharing whatever I was eating, which she hadn't been doing for the previous couple of days. I continued with the ionized water. By the next afternoon, she was able to use her arms to sit up, something she hadn't been able to do since we took our spill on Tuesday morning. She was still having trouble laying back down but the fact that she could sit up again was a huge improvement. My own pain level dropped to a 5. Not bad for water, huh??
Lucky's arms haven't improved dramatically since then, but her energy level is definitely back up. This morning she even "sang to me" to wake me up, something else she hadn't done recently. Another plus is, I'm not crying or swearing when I lift her in and out of the car, or helping her out to the yard to go potty. (I'm sure my neighbors appreciate this) :-)
I'm still putting ice packs on Lucky's shoulders to help ease her discomfort and I realized that she is more comfortable right now if I put a pillow for her to rest her head on. Here's a picture I took of her resting while she was getting her ice pack treatment. I know she's feeling better because when I have been upstairs on the computer and come back down, I am finding her in a different position than when I left. Earlier this week, she didn't even bother trying to move, so the water must be doing something for her.
I don't think the water is going to cure her cancer and her hip dysplasia and give her another 5 years with me but it's nice to know that it is helping her feel better and that's the most important thing to me right now. It also feels good to be well enough to care for her properly, as it was a terrible place to be earlier this week, when I felt I was letting her down by not being able to take care of her.
And I am feeling blessed that we have Sara in our lives (and George too). It reminds me that support can come to us from anywhere, at any time. Was it just a coincidence that Sara asked George to contact us at the same time my back went out and Lucky got hurt? Was it a coincidence that Sara happened to be watching the news the night Lucky's adoption was on TV? When I think about all the little pieces that fell into place to bring this all together, it's hard not to believe there are larger things at play in the world . . . things we may not be able to fully understand yet they are happening none the less. All I know is, I feel blessed.
No comments:
Post a Comment