Straight up

I never realized how often I drop things until it became too painful to pick them up. The once-automatic act of picking up after myself became a daunting task. Think of how many times you drop something - a set of keys, a piece of paper comes off the desk, a napkin off of the kitchen table. No big deal, right? You just swoop down and pick it up. Not me. As soon as that item hits the floor I go through a battery of considerations, do an impromptu risk assessment and then formulate a plan for how to recover the dropped item. You just don't consider how handy bending is until you lose the ability to do so.


I didn't know it at first, but what I was dealing with was two herniated discs and mild spinal stenosis. For weeks I just thought it was back pain and if I rested for a bit it would get better. In the meantime, living with it was horrible. On the first day I walked into my apartment and accidentally dropped my keys on the floor. I took a deep breath and just stared at them. I stared at the floor the way you would stare down the Grand Canyon if you had just dropped your cell phone and were working up the courage to rappel down and retrieve it. It's so far down. I'm going to hurt myself. I may not make it back up. What am I going to do? Can I live without my keys? Can I just leave them on my floor forever and have someone make a new set for me? Perhaps I should just make dozens of sets of keys and when I drop one I can leave it behind as collateral damage - leaving the world littered with sets of keys. That seems like a reasonable solution. Anything sounds better than bending over.

Of course, I did not make a dozen sets of keys - I would need the original key to cut the duplicates. I had to slowly bend my knees with my back remaining upright and feel around on the floor to pick them up and hang them on the nail. It was a laborious task. It didn't stop with keys, either. I started to wonder if I've always been a klutz and never realized it. Every day I would drop something. The worst was when someone else dropped something by my feet. The polite thing to do would be to pick it up and retrieve it for them. Sorry pal, you are on your own. If someone dropped something on the Metro and it slid below my seat, I would just kick it back to the person. I would try to explain that my back is screwed up and I can't bend over. But the damage was done. It's really not polite to kick something at a person after they drop it. Especially when you're as uncoordinated as I am, and the item would likely get kicked past them, or somewhere within a 3-foot radius of their location. Precision is not one of my talents. It sucks when it's painful to be polite. It was not completely debilitating. I could still go to work, I just had to get up from my desk and walk every couple of hours so I didn't get sore.


One day, after a long day at work, I came home to find that a delivery person had slid a menu underneath the doorway of every apartment in my hallway. What the hell kind of masochist would do something like that? That's just great. What am I going to do now? How am I going to get this off the floor? I am going to have a pizza menu on my floor for all of eternity. What was that delivery person thinking? It was as if someone had vandalized my apartment and I had to figure out how to fix it. Cruel, cruel delivery driver.

The pizza menu stayed on my floor for a couple of days. I finally went through the process of getting x-rays and an MRI on my spine to determine what was causing the pain and that's when I learned of the spinal stenosis. The orthopaedic surgeon showed me the MRI results and pointed to a white line leading from my spine to my right leg. "Do you see the white lines? Those are nerves. Now look on your left side. Do you see how that nerve just stops?" It was creepy to see what's going on inside my body, but it answered a lot of questions. The herniated disc was bulging right into the nerves and cutting them off. Along with the back pain being on my left side, I also had been feeling like my foot was asleep. I often untied my shoelaces and loosened them because my foot hurt, and I thought I had just pulled the laces too tight and cut off my circulation. It turns out that it was not a circulation problem, but my nerves were affected by the back problems. At times it feels like I am walking on something underneath my toes. I must have taken my shoes off and straightened my sock a dozen times because I thought it was my sock bunching up below my toes. But my socks were never bunched. I was feeling something that was not there. I guess that is how the jumbled nerves manifested themselves. It felt very uncomfortable, but not painful like the back pain. The back pain was the worst.


One thing that was very hard for me when dealing with back pain, was that it was all internal. I didn't have a cast on my leg or a brace around my neck that clued people in on my delicate state. If someone didn't know me, they would think I'm an able-bodied young woman in my twenties. Looks can be deceiving. What looks like a 25-year old body on the outside, feels to me like it's 75-years old. I take public transportation everywhere and I struggle with finding a seat during rush hours. I have started waiting until later and taking the train when it is not as packed. When I get to work, I now take the elevator to the second floor instead of the stairs. It makes me very self conscious because I'm sure it just appears to other people as if I'm lazy. Some friends have recommended carrying a cane or wearing a neck brace, just to make it easier to find a seat on the Metro and on the bus. I can't bring myself to ask someone to give up their seat. How do I know they are not suffering from some internal injury as well? Who am I to pick and choose who should give up their seat for my ailing back? I never do. I just suck it up and go on and it seems to get a little better every day. If I have learned one thing from this experience, it is that you can't always tell when someone who comes across as rude or lazy is actually just dealing with pain in the best way that they can. If I have learned two things, it is that bending is awesome and is not to be taken for granted.

Worst case scenario: Barnes, Noble & Crosby

As a participant in the Barnes & Noble 401(k) plan, I have the right to vote in the annual meeting of stockholders on September 28, 2010. These are the notices I receive every year and promptly ignore. This year, they have launched an aggressive campaign that has made the shareholder meeting impossible to ignore. I have received two phone calls, 3 mailings, and a UPS-delivered letter telling me how important it is that I vote this year because someone named Ronald Burkle is trying to take control of the company. I have no idea what this is all about, so I read each of their pleas for my vote, then I decide to look up Mr. Burkle. I need go no further than Mr. Burkle's Wikipedia page where I find some shocking and horrific information that has suddenly made my decision in this matter very, very simple:

He is part owner of the Pittsburgh Penguins National Hockey League team...

Len Riggio, you have my full support in stopping Mr. Burkle. I only wish you had mentioned his unsavory NHL connections earlier so I could start my own campaign to let all NHL fans (outside of Pittsburgh city limits) know that someone involved with the Pittsburgh Penguins is trying to take over my reputable bookstore. It is my duty to try to put a stop to this and if Steve Riggio agrees to throw down the gloves with Ron Burkle, I might be inclined to go vote in person.

I fully expect Mr. Burkle to lose, whine about it and claim he's entitled, and then demand a recount from the referee.

Keywords: Sharp, piercing, excruciating ear pain

When I sit down to write in this blog, I generally expect the readers will be my friends and family, or maybe some folks suffering from severe boredom. I'm always delighted to find out that someone new stumbles upon the blog randomly, but when I sit down to write, usually I expect it will be seen by a modest audience of a few regular readers. Well, tonight's blog is a little different. Tonight I'm writing for new people who are searching for the following keywords:
ear pain
sharp, piercing pain in ear
icepick stabbing sensation
excruciating ear pain
worse pain I've ever felt in my life
OMG my ear hurts so bad I want to curl up in a ball and cry
Will someone please tell me what the hell is causing the worst pain I've ever experienced!?!

Some time ago, I was having the absolute worst pain I have ever felt before or since. I had no idea what was causing it, and doctors could find nothing wrong. I spent hours on the internet trying to self-diagnose and found hundreds of things it could have been, but I didn't find any helpful information until I had talked to four different doctors and knew exactly what to type into a google search: TMJ

I went through hell trying to find out what was causing my pain. It would be accurate to describe it as feeling like someone is driving an icepick into my eardrum. Any time I would smile, chew, or move my mouth or ears in any way, spontaneous profanities would erupt from my mouth because the pain was so bad. I was actually worried when it happened at work because the stabbing pains would be so sudden that I couldn't help my outbursts. Imagine if you were to accidentally smash your fingers with a hammer, or slam them in a car door. Those words that would come out of your mouth... those were coming from me every time I smiled, coughed, or turned my head around too quickly. It was hell. And a recurring, unpredictable hell at that.

After a few episodes, I went to my doctor and he couldn't find anything wrong. He gave me some ear drops for the pain and said my ears looked fine. There was no sign of infection or any trace of what was causing the pain. He recommended I come back mid-earache so he could look while I was experiencing the pain. Of course, this always happened on evenings or weekends. He recommended an ear, nose & throat doctor for me to see. I made an appointment and the specialist said the same thing. Nothing looks wrong with my ears, come back when I'm having the problem.

The next time I had an earache was around 7:00 on a weeknight so I went to a Minute Clinic that was open until 8:00. I was about to pass out from the pain, but I walked my swearing self over to the clinic and had her look in my ears. Nothing. There was no sign that anything was wrong. Other than the tears streaming from my eyes and me talking through clenched teeth to try not to aggravate the pain. She prescribed me a different brand of ear drops and told me to go back to the ENT when I was experiencing the pain so they could take a closer look.

The ENT had me get a full CT Scan of my sinuses so they could see if that gave any evidence of what was happening. Again, there appeared to be nothing abnormal in the results. This went on for months. Twice a week I would feel a sudden pain in my ear and would have to lie as still as possible. I would lay down on my right side (it was almost always my left side in pain, but sometimes both.) Eventually I would pass out and fall asleep and the pain would be gone when I woke up. Usually. Sometimes I still felt a dull pain the next day.

Finally I had an earache in the afternoon, abandoned my job and headed for the ENT. I screamed as he looked in my ears because any movement to that ear would cause stabbing, excruciating pain. Even when I stepped off the curb, the motion from hopping down from the curb prompt a stabbing pain. He looked into my ears, I screamed like a banshee, he put down his instruments and told me everything looked fine. He could find nothing that could be causing me any pain at all, let alone the kind of pain that caused a scream that rattled the windows of his office. It was that point when he referred me to an Oral Surgeon because I may have Temporomandibular Joint Disorder: TMJ (or TMD.) He explained that the pain may feel like it's in my ear canal, when really it's in my jaw at the joint. In the neighborhood, but not even close to being the same thing.

As soon as he told me what may be causing the pain (and taught me how to spell it) I knew that's what was happening. The first painful episodes began after I had some extensive dental work, and I could connect the worst episodes to other activities that could cause a strain on the jaw muscles. Doctors had been poking, prodding and violating my ears, but could never see the problem because it was below the surface. That also explained why smiling or laughing would make things worse. Any time the joint moved, the pain would flare up again. It suddenly all made sense.

I was referred to an Oral Surgeon who asked some basic questions and took some x-rays. He said there could be treatment for the joint, but it was a last-resort measure. He put me on a diet of only soft foods for one month. Really soft. Ridiculously soft. I lived on mashed potatoes and applesauce for 30 days, suppressed my yawns, and basically did everything I could to keep my joints relaxed so they could recover. I kept my mouth shut for thirty days, and I am happy to say - it worked!

It's been a year and now that I know the source of the pain, I take extra caution not to put a strain on my jaw. I have gone to the Dentist three times since then and each time I reminded them of the TMJ and they let me rest my jaw so it's not open at full hinge the whole time. I don't chew gum, I don't eat anything that involves excessive masticating, and if I start to feel some pain coming on in that area, I immediately grab the ibuprofen to try and keep the pain at bay. In the last year I have had a bit of pain in the joint, but nothing like what I had been experiencing. Thank heaven for that because that kind of pain is intolerable, especially when it's as unpredictable as it was.

Other than the ibuprofen, it didn't take any surgery or drugs, but only a change in behavior to keep the worst pain imaginable from coming back. That is the reason I am writing this blog. I am not exaggerating when I say that I scoured hundreds of web pages, desperately trying to learn what could possibly be causing my intense pain. I found a few medical message boards, some of them were four years old, but most of the people writing about the symptoms were folks like me who were looking for a diagnosis - and then responses by people offering dozens of possible causes. I apologize to the regular readers if you've made it through this entire entry and feel like you're in a nursing home listening to people ramble on and on about their ailments. I know it's not interesting, but it's important to me. I needed to put my experience out on the web, just for the possibility that someone with the same symptoms may read this during a desperate google search like I performed so many times. Self diagnosis is not always recommended, but in this case all it took for me was to eat soft foods and relax my jaw to stop the most excruciating pain of my life. If you stumbled upon this blog because you were experiencing the same symptoms I was, reach for the mashed potatoes and applesauce for a while. Give your joint a rest for 30 days and if you see a remarkable improvement, you may have just learned something it took several months, numerous doctors, and too many incorrect diagnoses to discover.

TV ads are bad for your health

I didn't believe it was possible, but this television commercial actually causes me physical pain. There's nothing wrong with the ad itself; it's quite good actually. I just haven't had this feeling since I was seven years old. I watch the NHL Network, they show the commercial and I want to go so bad, it hurts. I'm instantly transformed into a kid again. All I can think is "I WANT THAT!!!" I want it SO BAD I'M GOING TO DIE IF I DON'T GET THAT FOR CHRISTMAS!!!!

What is this all about? Well, there is a hockey game on New Years Day in Wrigley Field. Yes, baseball season is over so the Chicago Blackhawks and the Detroit Red Wings are taking over Wrigley while the Cubs are away. It's going to be awesome and the Blackhawks actually have an impressive team this year. At the time of this post, they are only 5 points behind the Stanley Cup champion Red Wings with one game in hand. I realize that probably doesn't mean much to you non-hockey fans, so I will put it to you like this: in recent years, the Cubs have made the playoffs more often than the Blackhawks.

Speaking of non-hockey fans, I would like to know how many such people have tickets to this game. I have a hell of a time meeting anyone who gives a crap about hockey, but somehow there is a sold-out crowd willing to watch an outdoor hockey game on January 1st in the Windy City. Tickets on the secondary market are selling upwards of $250, and that includes seats on the rooftops. Who are these people paying money to freeze their arse off watching hockey? If they are that rich, could they buy me a ticket? I don't even need a seat. I could just lay down on the feet of the rich people and keep them warm. As long as I could see the game, I'm willing to make myself into a human foot-warmer for the rich folks. (Maybe I should put that on eBay or Craig's list... "human foot-warmer available for Winter Classic in Chicago.")

Okay, chances are I will not be able to sell myself as a human foot warmer, I will not get to see the Blackhawks play at Wrigley, and I will not die - just like I didn't die when Santa didn't bring me a pony or a little sister. But I will continue to weep every time I see that awesome commercial, and I will curse everyone who goes to this game and leaves early because it's "too cold." My friends and I would love to go to this game. We are true hockey fans - we would be in heaven to sit outside and get frostbite watching an outdoor hockey game. Unfortunately, we have that other trademark characteristic of most hockey fans - we can't afford $250 for a ticket.

So, have fun rich people! Buy yourselves a copy of Hockey for Dummies, memorize it, then you can set it on fire to keep warm in between periods. Because hockey is a cold weather sport, it moves fast and it's the greatest game on earth.

Go Hawks!!

Can the debates get any more depressing?

Less than 20 minutes into the final (thank heavens!) debate and I'm thoroughly depressed. It's not only because I keep hearing the same nonsense the candidates have been uttering for a year, but now they're stressing their point by talking about "Joe the plumber." They've made up some hypothetical voter to demonstrate how well they relate to the regular hard-working folks in this country. See? They're not elitist, they're looking out for Joe - who happens to be a plumber by trade.

Not only is this really dumb and unconvincing, it's making me very sad. My Grandpa's name was Joe. He was a plumber. He passed away and I miss him. I'd much rather be watching football or Matlock with him right now than listening to these two clowns. This presidential horserace has already made me long for happier days without the reference to Grandpa. I'm telling you right now, if they start to argue about a metaphorical Dog named Daisy, I may slit my wrists.

MSNBC won't be happy until I cry my eyes right out of my head

I'm watching the repeat of Meet the Press on MSNBC and it's a continuation of their "Remembering Tim Russert" weekend memorial. It takes a lot for me to shed a tear; I don't really cry very often. But when I see Tom Brokaw try not to break down on the air, saying, "I don't know if I can get through this..." well, I certainly couldn't make it through watching that.

It's not because I have any attachment to Brokaw; he always sounds to me like he's tossed back a few drinks before his broadcast. The sad truth is that we all suffer a loss with the passing of Tim Russert. When it comes to television journalists, it just doesn't get any better than Russert. If news & politics isn't your thing, maybe I can explain with a sports comparison.... Think of a player on a rival team that you hate to see your team go up against. The one guy who is so good that you would love to see him wear your team's jersey, but when he plays against your guys, you pray he'll be on the injured list. He's the Michael Jordan when your team plays the Bulls; he's Wayne Gretzky if your team plays the... er, Rangers, Kings or Oilers... depending on what year this particular analogy takes place.

That's the best way I can describe Russert, but it's not an ideal analogy. He doesn't play for a side. When he interviews politicians, it doesn't matter what their political affiliation is, he puts them all on the spot. If it's someone I don't especially like, I cheer when he catches them off guard. But last year when he interviewed Bill Richardson, I cringed. I have a lot of respect for Richardson, and Russert nailed him on everything. He even called the Governor out for claiming to be a Yankees fan at one time, and a Red Sox fan another time. It was brutal. I sat in my living room waving a white flag back and forth for poor Richardson.

It's really unfathomable that Russert is gone. I can't imagine who could replace him on Meet the Press. Surely there's someone with the same qualities as Russert - hard working, unintimidated by powerful people, someone who refuses to back down. Unfortunately, Big Media seems most interested in having a pretty face read soft news. Anything even resembling investigative journalism is rare.

I'm afraid that one of the last great journalists died suddenly on Friday the 13th, and left behind some impossible shoes to fill. It's sad to think that he's gone, while we're left with the mass of talking heads and partisan hacks. It's incredibly sad, but like I said - it takes a lot of heartache for me to shed a tear. I must admit that I've shed a few this weekend while watching the retrospective on MSNBC. They've repeatedly shown footage and interviews with Russert -one can imagine the amount of grief that is undoubtedly being suffered at NBC. The clips show Russert beaming and speaking about his father over the years. His Dad, "Big Russ" was the subject of his book, and watching the old footage of Russert speaking so proudly of his father is heartbreaking.

It's sad for us all that we no longer have Tim Russert to hold our elected officials accountable. But when I think of today - Father's Day; it's hard to hold back the tears when I think of what his father and his son must be going through. My heart goes out to the family.

You win, MSNBC.

Now if you'll all excuse me, I'm going to go call my dad.