After a long absence, and barely a passing blow on the last couple of visits, the weekend saw the dramatic return of my old mate Spike. This time he came equipped with knives, needles and cattleprods, and visited upon me a pain much worse than I have felt in several years. Oh yes, Saturday night was exciting. I even got to go to my local A and E by ambulance. What fun!
It all started at about 6pm, when the neuro-pain in my legs began to flare up more than usual. It had been above average all day, but this was something special. When the pain gets abnormally bad, I know that something's not right.
The body seems to find a way of letting one know. Some people with spinal cord injury will find that their spasms get worse when something's wrong, but as I don't get spasms, my neuropathic pain takes the role of messenger. With gusto.Then I began to shiver. Sure enough, I had a fever.
As I learned when I was in the hospital during my rehab, the fever is the first thing that must be tackled. So off came the clothes, down went the paracetamol, and I took to the sofa to wait for things to settle down enough for me to be able to work out what was wrong.
But things didn't settle down. Instead Spike arrived, all fanfare and razzle dazzle. He went to work with enthusiasm, and like a player returning after a long lay off, he seemed to have something to prove and made sure to let me know he was there. What started in my legs moved up to my lower back and kidneys, with the shivering getting worse. Soon the pain was so bad that I couldn't talk.
After Penny had a reassuring phone call with the good people on NHS Direct, An ambulance was dispatched, and I was taken to my local hospital. By this time things had settled down, and I was able to give them a full case history, impressing staff with my knowledge of my own 'health issues'.
After the labs came back, they had a diagnosis. It was one that many SCI people will be familiar with- UTI or bladder infection. Yes, after five years infection free, I have a UTI. I am lucky. Some people spend most of their time battling with UTI's.
I have always been pleased with my track record, to the point that I am deeply superstitious about which type of catheter I use. Here's a bit more of a tour of my bladder from a previous posting.
This next bit carries a warning. Those of you who have sensation below the waist and may be squeamish, look away now...
A couple of weeks ago, I had a little difficulty emptying my bladder. When it is very full, there can sometimes be a bit more resistance when inserting a catheter, and this is what it felt like, but no matter how much I tired, I couldn't get the thing into my bladder. After a few minutes, I gave up and withdrew the catheter, only to find that the last centimeter of the tip had folded back on itself, and was pink with blood.
When things like this happen, it's strange, but the first reaction is to feel a bit light headed with panic and brace oneself for the inevitable pain to follow. I know I can't feel it, but my subconscious is still engaged with my lower half in the same way that it was before my accident. This is important to me, it makes me feel, well, still connected.
Anyway, as with any damage to the urethra, it healed up very quickly, and the next time I took a leak three hours later the blood had gone. But obviously the damage had created the conditions for a UTI to take hold.
The next fortnight I had an upset stomach, lots of nausea, a lack of energy and a general feeling of things being not right. I put it down to a gastro bug, and would never have thought of a UTI, as my urine wasn't cloudy or discoloured or stinky. Yep, it's keeping an eye on these sort of things that makes spinal cord injury such fun.
So there's my cautionary tale. I have learned a lot this weekend.
I have learned that I am not immune to bladder infections.
I have learned that they are very unpleasant.
And I have learned that Spike is still a part of my life, but his visits are more likely to be timed to coincide with some other problem. He's only here to help, to let me know something's wrong. Still, he could try just a little itch or a tickle...
It all started at about 6pm, when the neuro-pain in my legs began to flare up more than usual. It had been above average all day, but this was something special. When the pain gets abnormally bad, I know that something's not right.
The body seems to find a way of letting one know. Some people with spinal cord injury will find that their spasms get worse when something's wrong, but as I don't get spasms, my neuropathic pain takes the role of messenger. With gusto.Then I began to shiver. Sure enough, I had a fever.
As I learned when I was in the hospital during my rehab, the fever is the first thing that must be tackled. So off came the clothes, down went the paracetamol, and I took to the sofa to wait for things to settle down enough for me to be able to work out what was wrong.
But things didn't settle down. Instead Spike arrived, all fanfare and razzle dazzle. He went to work with enthusiasm, and like a player returning after a long lay off, he seemed to have something to prove and made sure to let me know he was there. What started in my legs moved up to my lower back and kidneys, with the shivering getting worse. Soon the pain was so bad that I couldn't talk.
After Penny had a reassuring phone call with the good people on NHS Direct, An ambulance was dispatched, and I was taken to my local hospital. By this time things had settled down, and I was able to give them a full case history, impressing staff with my knowledge of my own 'health issues'.
After the labs came back, they had a diagnosis. It was one that many SCI people will be familiar with- UTI or bladder infection. Yes, after five years infection free, I have a UTI. I am lucky. Some people spend most of their time battling with UTI's.
I have always been pleased with my track record, to the point that I am deeply superstitious about which type of catheter I use. Here's a bit more of a tour of my bladder from a previous posting.
This next bit carries a warning. Those of you who have sensation below the waist and may be squeamish, look away now...
A couple of weeks ago, I had a little difficulty emptying my bladder. When it is very full, there can sometimes be a bit more resistance when inserting a catheter, and this is what it felt like, but no matter how much I tired, I couldn't get the thing into my bladder. After a few minutes, I gave up and withdrew the catheter, only to find that the last centimeter of the tip had folded back on itself, and was pink with blood.
When things like this happen, it's strange, but the first reaction is to feel a bit light headed with panic and brace oneself for the inevitable pain to follow. I know I can't feel it, but my subconscious is still engaged with my lower half in the same way that it was before my accident. This is important to me, it makes me feel, well, still connected.
Anyway, as with any damage to the urethra, it healed up very quickly, and the next time I took a leak three hours later the blood had gone. But obviously the damage had created the conditions for a UTI to take hold.
The next fortnight I had an upset stomach, lots of nausea, a lack of energy and a general feeling of things being not right. I put it down to a gastro bug, and would never have thought of a UTI, as my urine wasn't cloudy or discoloured or stinky. Yep, it's keeping an eye on these sort of things that makes spinal cord injury such fun.
So there's my cautionary tale. I have learned a lot this weekend.
I have learned that I am not immune to bladder infections.
I have learned that they are very unpleasant.
And I have learned that Spike is still a part of my life, but his visits are more likely to be timed to coincide with some other problem. He's only here to help, to let me know something's wrong. Still, he could try just a little itch or a tickle...
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