You can say anything you want but that day or I should say both these faithful days, will stay in my memory forever.
The first was a warm Saturday, my wife and I were on our way back from a friend’s restaurant grand opening weekend. I was in the hospital and had just returned on Thursday when we decided to go to watch a movie at the cinema on that Friday, don’t ask what it was, I can’t recall. I assumed that I had a stomach bug, but went to the opening anyway. After all, the gastroenterologist had given me the all-clear after an awful week in the hospital. The week before the opening, I underwent both a gastroscopy and a colonoscopy due to severe abdominal pains; it was the end of October 2016.
The Caesar salad I just ate along with a couple of glasses of water I drank decided to leave my stomach and ended up on the rainy parking lot, in the past this would be the end of the story, but it did not stop there. About half-hour later, luckily I was not driving, I passed out and had some kind of a seizure, to this day we still do not know whether this was the beginning of the horror that followed.
I returned to work on that Monday, and for the next month, I began to gradually have more severe pains in my right hand, specifically the ring finger and pinky. By mid-December, it became near impossible to sustain, and I took an appointment with an orthopaedics surgeon my general practitioner recommended, unfortunately, the earliest appointment was in mid-January. My general practitioner had given me some pain killers, but these barely helped.
The day I was to return to work in early January, and after series of unfortunate events that morning, I drove myself to my general practitioner who promptly sent me to the hospital’s orthopaedic surgeon on duty. In less then 10 minutes of inspecting me, the orthopaedic surgeon had me in a wheelchair and admitted without further due.
He had no idea what was wrong, but he knew it was not orthopaedic, he got me to do a series of test to make sure, but he was adamant it was neurological. He transferred me to the neurological department; I was in a total daze. I still wonder how I managed to drive there; the pain was excruciating. I apparently passed out twice that day, oddly enough all I remember is some tests and being parked in a wheelchair here and there. I can’t even tell you when my wife arrived.
I did another week in the hospital, mostly on pain medications and doing test after test. Eventually, my neurologist diagnosed me with Complex Regional Pain Syndrome (CRPS) and sent me home with a battery of pain killers and orders to see an occupational therapist.
And so I returned to work, but more on that in a future post.