Not what I was looking for

So the trip to the neurologist/spinal doctor this morning was not exactly a fun-filled frolic without care. Actually, it ended in tears - mine, and lots of them.

I'm going to get a second opinion (and maybe a third - mom wants me to send my MRI's to a doctor in Virginia that she trusts) but apparently the MRI shows - to my own eyes, even - that one of my discs is seriously making a break for freedom. I actually have a total of four discs going wrong, which is not usual in someone my age, but apparently I have a special talent or something. Two of the discs are probably not going to trouble me at the moment, one of them is borderline, and one of them has encroached into the spinal column and has actually bruised my spinal cord - thus the weird symptoms I've been having. You could see where the normally grey spinal cord was whitened by the bruise.

The doctor - who I do like well enough - thinks I need the surgery where they whip the little sucker out and put in a bone graft either from me or from "the bone bank," aka from a cadaver, and the whole thing fuses together. And he thinks I need it fairly soon, like in the next month or so. It's not an uncommon surgery, and I could be back to work in about a week or ten days, which is a small relief. They'd go in from the front and I'll have to think up a story to explain a scar on either side of my neck. I'm thinking pirates. Or clumsy ninjas.

I'm most concerned about finances, of course. Between this and the phone call I had with one of Bemo's student loan people, the dream of owning a house is receeding further into the distance. We're simply never going to be able to save up the money for a down payment.

Anyway, I'm upset and frustrated and still trying to process everything, so I'm not at my best at the moment. I'm thinking a hot shower and some time on the couch with my Life DVDs is indicated.

And though we be but mortal

Thanks, everyone, for the very kind words of support. I'm hoping I can plan logically for all the fuss that lies ahead of me. My headspace keeps fluctuating between "Ah, well, it'll all be ok" to self-pitying tears that just sort of leak out while I'm trying to distract myself. I'm also trying to keep myself away from feeling frail and invalidish just because some part of my brain is telling me that's what I'm supposed to do in situations like this. All I need is a black shawl and a rocking chair, and I can mimic Bemo's grandmother Hortense. She would tell all the children at the holidays that this might be her last time with them until they all met up in Heaven. Woe, woe.

I've been mostly motionless on the sofa for the day, although I did bestir myself to throw a roast in the oven. The cats have taken the opportunity and been snuggly all day, which is a nice since it's so cold out. And I have hot chocolate that I should make.

All will be well and all will be well and all manner of things shall be well. I hope and trust.