Pinch punch and all that.
​As the new school year begins so comes my new start. Not in a born again ding dong* kind of way but in an explanatory where the hell have I been and what am I doing kind of way. 

If you have read my blog before you might remember I have had  on-going back problems that resulted in surgery to fuse my sacroiliac joints. Unfortunately the surgeon pushed one of the surgical screws into a lumbar nerve and it has caused a mishmash of issues that include continuous pain, nerve damage with its accompanying nonsense, foot drop, muscle wastage around my ankle and lower leg and sometimes my leg disappears itself. The dodgy grammar stays because it is such a perfect description. 

Life is challenging. After exhausting local pain management services my GP suggested I find a new consultant and start again. I did this and with some creative self-advocacy and charm (fluke) I ended up in the care of the amazing team at Southmead Hospital, Bristol.

Tests were ordered; MRI not much use as too much artefact, Mylogram was a fail because it was impossible for the interventional radiologist to get the needle into my spinal canal to inject contrast material because because of the bony overgrowth^, CT bit useful but limited, nerve conductivity tests, ouch, but when combined with scans clearly shows the issues.

Permanent nerve damage coupled with mechanical problems in lower back means chronic pain that is forever. It’s as if we are married with no hope of a divorce. This is not pleasing but my heart did a blip when SM; my ortho, suggested referring me to the department of dark magic to discuss a spinal cord stimulator.

My knowledge of SCS was limited but having decided to put my trust in him I duly went for an assessment with SLJ. She is perfectly lovely and explained in detail, a lot of detail, maybe a bit too much detail how they work and what is involved. 

“Spinal cord stimulation works by sending small electrical impulses to your spinal cord. An electrode is placed over the spinal cord and is powered by a battery which is implanted in the buttock or abdomen. Stimulation helps to block the pain signals travelling to the brain. It may feel like a tingling sensation which may help reduce your pain. You may not feel any tingling sensation. The amount your pain may be reduced varies from person to person.” NHS, North Bristol Trust. 

First up is a 5-10 day trial whereby an electrode on a wire is placed over the spinal cord and when it feels as though in correct place the wire is brought out and is attached to a battery then taped down. This is a procedure.

I get a remote control to adjust the settings. After the trial it is all removed.

If the trial is a success an electrode is implanted against the spinal cord and the connecting wire is burrowed under the skin to an implanted battery. This is an operation; a hospital overnighter shebang. 

Hang on I feel a bit queasy.

Okay, back again. I am in awe of this but also equally nervous. I have researched until my brain fizzed and for many people this option is life-changing.
After seeing SLJ I had to get a psychological assessment. 

I met with the delightful HO. We had a fabulous discussion and fortunately she decided I wasn’t too bonkers (not PC, whatever, it’s my blog) and was an excellent candidate for SCS.

How exciting it will be to get my life back. 

While I have been ‘challenged’ I have continued to write and develop my upcoming online courses.
I use self-hypnosis/meditation and stuff to cope with my limitations and pain and will share all I know and have discovered.

In the meantime here is a free breathing technique https://barbschool.newzenler.com/courses/abc-123-breathing-method
You have to enrol and give up your email address but I promise not to send you inappropriate messages. That is a whole other pay-scale ?

​In other news I got a kitten, picture above. She is called Daisy and has stolen our hearts.
​More on her soon. Yes, I have become one of those types.

Thank you for reading. Love Barbara x

^ This was as stressful for the doctor as well as me. He was a bundle of apologies at causing me added pain from the needle stabbing and bone scrapping. I felt quite sad for him when he said he could not proceed and stopped trying.

*Ding dong reference to prevent any confusion ⬇

I am simply known as ‘healer’. People, in my and the surrounding villages, call on me for a variety of ailments. Daily I walk the hedgerows gathering flowers, barks and roots to make my lotions, potions and tinctures. I return to my kitchen to brew, grind and whisper the incantations to infuse the medicines with the intention of good health.

I help people with pain of the body, mind or soul sometimes all there if someone is deeply harmed. Often a broken heart from an unhealed injury or bad relationship can not be mended without compassion and regular infusions of healing. The grief of a life that was might drive some from taking to their beds and this can often lead to difficulties in them getting back up.

Together we stop excessive inflammation from spreading and turning in on itself with the bark of willow to cool the heat and the leaves of valerian to soothe demons in the mind. Finishing with milk of the poppy to quieten the noise of pain.
We know of the way pain burrows deep, determined to stay put, and without correct measures can take hold as a permanent lodger. 
 
Mistress Smith and I chat and while sipping our mead imagine the future. “I predict,” I muse, “There will come a time when medicines are made from substances unknown in nature. Men will tell us what is best and the money makers will corner the market.”
“What of us and our healing ways?” She always asked.
“We will be on the outer edges of society used as a last resort when all has failed.” I always reply.

Our conversation continues that in the future individuals will not be allowed to decide for themselves what might work best with the harmony of their personality. Instead they will be told to accept it and try (and maybe even die) smiling as without help uncontrollable pain and death will most likely occur.

While the medicine men ply their trade there might come a time when balance is close but then the lawmakers get involved and not like the unnatural substances. They do not like nature’s supply either. From more knowledge grows more ignorance.

They will be cross that some people are seeking out medicines for reasons they do not approve of so to stop that no-one will be allowed and those who try to help will be punished so much so that everyone will suffer.

What of the natural medicines we wonder? They would be the ones deemed bad because the understanding of nature’s lore is forgotten. We move on to discuss the benefits of chatting, sharing and helping each other while knowing that lonely souls will be excluded, forgotten, ignored.

As we reach the bottom of the jug we laugh in delight at our ripe imaginations.

~~~
Photo by ORNELLA BINNI on Unsplash

This post previously contained swears. I sometimes silently say profanities occasionally out loud. It has happened a lot recently but rather than be a Sweary Mary I shall write 'stop it'. Much sweeter and makes me seem less of a strop.

I have talked before about the 2 lists I have in my mind - they are the ‘eh’ and the ‘seen it all’. There is also a Venn diagram and the section where they cross over is called ‘wtf?!’

This past week has seen new entries onto to both lists and one new into the centre. It all starts with pain. Again?
Shut up woman.

Nutshell for anyone who doesn’t know;
Years of ongoing debilitating painful back issues, diagnosed with sacroiliac dysfunction, left side fused, screw into L5 nerve root (not fun), screw removed, donor bone squirted in, right SI fused, heal a bit, hurt a bit, heal a bit, hurt a lot, given the diagnosis ‘CRPS’, have injections, pulsed RT, more injections, diagnosis changed to bone issue, added in sore hips from years of SI issues etc etc. How long should a list be?

I have had episodes of urinary incontinence and this started up again a couple of weeks ago coupled by the ghastliness of faecal soiling and ridiculous pain. This is as yuck and scary as it was before. I saw my GP and she said to pop along to the hospital. It was all very deja-vu of a few years ago and I explained I haven’t recovered from that so I said no and she said I could go to a different one.

The ortho doc at the hospital examined me, put his finger in my bum* and this is how the conversation went:
Doc -  do you want to come in for a few days?
Me - no.
Doc - are you managing at home?
Me - yes.
Doc- why not come in?
Me - no thank you.
Doc - if you have a slow developing cauda equina you’ll have to come back. Or, just stay.
Me - thank you for the kind offer but NO.
Doc - you definitely want to go home then?
Me - yes. Please. Can I go now?
Doc - or…
Me - are you saying you think it better if I stay?
Doc - I am responsible so if you go and then have to come back questions will be asked.
Me - of you not me.
Doc - we will look after. You can rest and have nice pills.
Me - I can do that at home.
Doc - yes, but…
Me - are you saying I should come in?
Doc - yes.
Me - okay I will come in but I’m not staying long.
Doc - brilliant I’ll sort it.

This is a shortened version and although it sounds stroppy it was actually funny and we were laughing a lot. 
A lovely nurse appeared, bundled me into a wheelchair, because I didn't want to be moved on the gurney, and took me to the ward. I was given my own room and popped onto a chair. Orthopaedic wards tend to be busy and this one was no exception. I had nothing with me so was supplied with everything up to and including net panties. You probably know of the bags that resemble a bit of net and then stretch in all directions when you put shopping in them… Think same.

Nurse Feelingfine brought me Paracetamol. Stop it! I could take them at home. Two minutes later Morphine arrived. Now we’re talking, fairies here I come.  

It all got fuggy after that.

I had cups of tea whenever and enough Morphine to shut me up. They know what patients are like.

In the morning I got told off for sitting on a chair because I was on ‘bed rest’ - didn’t know that was still a thing. I told the doctor I’d like to go home, he smiled sweetly and said, “you can in a few days.”

Stop it!

My actual personal nurse was amazing. Loud, funny, caring and married to a Reverend. What's not to love?

Nurse Iaminchargeofpain visited. She looked at my foot (it drops) and said, “you know that’s permanent?” Stop it! When asked, “what brings you here?” I told her quite colourfully.   

She then did the red flag to a bull movement. You know the one. Head slightly to the side, Thatcher voice gearing up and said, “have you spoken to anyone about your psychological state?”

Stop it!

She straightened her head then down it went again, “because you don’t hurt so much if you are happy.”

Stopit. Stopit. Stopit!

Lovely Nurse heard me telepathically and appeared like magic and Nurse Iaminchargeofpain scuttled away.
Then they gave me Diazepam and I got fuggy again. They also gave me laxatives because they knew what was coming. Or, rather what wasn’t.
​
Later in the day I began my mission to escape. I fibbed and said I felt better after the Diazepam and then I got moved into another room with 5 other patients. Definitely on a mission to get home. Been there done that planned the escape.  

Anyway, the woman opposite returned from surgery looking very grey, asked for Morphine and then said she needed a cigarette. The ward sister told her she could when the IV had run through. The cannula was in the top of her foot.

A different consultant visited me. Between him and the admitting doctor they decided I have spondylitis, permanent nerve damage with drop foot and possibly a slow developing cauda equina.
“Thanks,” I said ‘but can I go home now?” 

“Well..” he started. I tilted my head to the side and breathed in, he blanched and said, “If your nurse is happy and they can do the paperwork today, can sort your meds then yes you can. Or, you can stay.”

I told Lovely Nurse and she said she'd ask Sister who said okay to go but much to do to let someone out and I was welcome to stay.

While they were sorting paper and meds the woman opposite got up, unhooked her nearly empty IV bag and handed it to her bewildered husband and put on her trainers. Yes, trainers. She squashed her foot including the cannula with bits attached into it and did up the laces. And here we have the Venn diagram and the section where they cross over. 

By now I was prodding Mick, “what the hell” I asked, followed by, “I know, not my monkeys”. Sister arrived and took control in a fairly scary way. That’s what Sisters do. 

Sister then came to me. My tummy sank but she smiled sweetly and said, “We are just sorting your meds but we are having a hard time sourcing a doctor to prescribe, a pharmacist to deliver and available Diazepam.”
Oh no. I felt caught in a headlight and should have said something but my mouth would not comply. The moment passed.

Half an hour later Sister returned, “Matron is on the mission to sort your meds.”
Matron has better things to do than buzz around the hospital like a fruit fly for a fibber.
 
I suggested a prescription would suffice. That worked.
I left with instructions to rest, do limited physio, take meds and return instantly if all hell let loose in my nether regions.

~~~

* Nothing dodgy. It is to check if the muscles are working and if there is numbness.


​
###
Picture credit Photo by Park Troopers on Unsplash
​

*Snoozeville - sedated enough to be roused, speak, shout, swear and worse but with no recall.
*Pulsed radio-frequency treatment is different to the ghastly thing I had done before with the other pain doctor, that was continuous radio-frequency nerve denervation.  ​

Info here if you fancy knowing more about the procedure:
 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pulsed_radiofrequency

Soggy lumpy squidgy bits
Saggy flappy floppy tits
Constant nagging tighten your core
Sod right off while I eat some more
Carbs to numb and fatten the bum
Add some weight and then some
 
The perils of pain can be weight gain
Being over stuffed yet under nourished
Does not encourage the body to flourish
 
The other extreme is the anorexic look
When the thought of food turns one crook
And there’s nothing to them ‘cept skin and bone
While the constant pain makes the body moan
 
For many years I was a vegetarian who ate fish (I know…). Then I slipped off the veggie wagon and one day a bloodied steak on my plate triggered something deep inside – not in a good way and I became a veggie again but still ate fish (I know…). I also ate dairy and eggs, yes… still know…
 
The fish then stopped being at risk from me but not the dairy. Occasionally I questioned why but as this was usually with a face-full of chocolate there was my answer. When I was recovering from the surgeries I began to think about nutrition, mostly relating to inflammation. Instinctively, and it’s not rocket science, I thought that if I could reduce it, it might aid my healing and ease the nerve damage. Inflammation is not all bad as it works to warn us of danger but too much is not good.

A serious contender for the too much award is dairy (I knew…) but really?! Cut it out? What, totally? No more cream, chocolate, milky puds, cheese… I decided to give it a try rather than fully commit. This was mainly to check that it was even possible but also to ensure I didn’t keel over in hunger swoons. Ha ha ha.
 
Well, the change in me verged on freaky and the healing acceleration noticeable. I studied some more and read paper after paper on nutrition: mostly relating to healing but also to developing and maintaining rude health.
 
Okay, so how is it going? Fine, thank you for asking. I have discovered delicious recipes and am enjoying many benefits I hadn’t considered. Oh, and the eggs went too.
 
The daft hippy reference has been coined by my son, Paul. His term of endearment is daft hippy shit.

Update 2019 - plant based works for me with occasional dairy and eggs.

I have discovered that people can get very emotive and judgy - realise that is a judgy thing to say -about food choices when it is no-one's business. My reason for sharing was because it works for me.

 
Image - http://www.freevectorvip.com/​

​A lot  of my work is with people who have injuries or suffer with chronic pain. As someone who has been there I know the challenges and desperation this can cause. The picture is of my feet in the cold sea earlier this year sans pain. 
 
Some years ago I was working at a golf club with a group of nine and there were two people with shoulder and neck pain, three had low backache, one had a headache and one suffering with IBS. The two people remaining who didn’t have any pain felt quite left out. If you ask around most people experience discomfort of one sort or another quite frequently, especially, backache, headaches and the ilk. It might be just general aches and pains, pain following injury or surgery or a stress related problem in the form of tensions in the body.
And of course, pain leads to stress which leads to pain and so on. It can be a seemingly never-ending downward spiral and when this happens it is called chronic.

Before any pain can be managed it is important to ascertain the cause. Pain is always a signal that something isn’t right or that an injury has occurred and anything new must be discussed with a doctor or similar. But, pain from stress, in the form of a holding pattern or as an emotional response, can be excruciating and seem like an injury reaction.

Chronic pain, whatever the cause, is stressful and debilitating but it can be therapeutic to be doing something, i.e. taking responsibility and action towards alleviating the discomfort/agony. Most doctors are pleased if their patients want to take control and attempt exercise, play games or participate in sport and taking part in something is also good for mental health and can help to stop depression creeping in. However, how is it even possible when pain is so severe it’s a challenge to get out of bed to go to the bathroom?
 
Back to the original group - all involved were regularly taking pain killers.
They all wanted to live a good life and would just take extra pills either before or after any activity. Too many pain-killers can cause problems of their own so it is not good to take an excessive amount.
 
However, although I would certainly not suggest stopping the popping if you are going to participate in games or sports regardless you may as well try to manage pain and tensions in a natural easy to manage way.
Your perception of discomfort is important. Pretending the pain isn’t there is not the answer. But, being aware of, and then managing it, is.

​If we are relaxed we hurt less so breathing properly is the first step. We tend to breathe in and hold our breath if we experience discomfort but that makes our muscles tense and sore. Examples are fist clenching, jaw locking shoulders up and bowels tightening and there are many others.
If you have any pain now think about where it is and imagine breathing into that part of your body while mentally soothing the hurt away. Think about how you would feel without any pain and how you would stand, sit speak, walk, swing a golf club etc. Act out these movements or behaviours in your mind. If you do this a few times your subconscious can begin to find ways to create it permanently.
​
Here is a technique you might find useful especially for helping a headache - but beneficial for any type of pain. Of course prevention is always better but sometimes we are not quick, or aware enough and we’re not on a mission anyway because we are too normal! Identify exactly where you are feeling pain right up to the edges of it. Be specific. Does it end level with your left ear, is it resting on an eyebrow or is it drilling into you shoulder? When you know, begin to focus on softening it and rubbing it away from the edges inwards. However you would do this is right for you - whether you visualise, feel or talk to the pain. Again imagine not having it. Play a mental game of something you enjoy or would like to try, feeling well, with your body relaxed and your mind clear. Doing this when relaxed releases natural endorphins that create pain relief and make you feel good. This also happens when exercising or if we are busy. Have you ever hurt yourself but either not noticed or not felt it until later when you stopped and no longer had a distraction?
 
Visualisation in very useful because you can personalise it in any way that you like. You can create numbness - like a local anaesthetic at the dentist, relax muscles, close imaginary gates that slow pain or change the shape of it to make it manageable.

Here is the method the group used:
Sit comfortably and start the relaxation process by regulating your breathing and slowing everything down - including your thoughts. For a few moments just ‘be’. Now direct comfort to any areas where you think it might be needed. If you have discomfort in any joints soothe them with an inner balm that dissolves away any build-ups and lubricates the whole area to allow a freedom in movement. You can create warmth or coolness depending on your needs just by thinking about it. Drift away into a dream knowing that when you ‘awaken’ you will feel more comfortable. You need only do this for a few minutes.

Be as creative as you can and your mind will do all it can to help you

You may remember, at the end of September, my back ‘went’ – this is a handy word that covers all kinds of episodes, incidents and peculiarities – and it has only just, very recently, returned. 

Being incapacitated is not fun. Pain is tiring. 
You get to the stage where you fib if anyone dares to ask how you are as the sound of hearing yourself moan, again, again, and once more for luck is just so dull and boring. 

Old lady grunts (lots), profanities tumbling from mouth un-restrained (not pretty), not being able to drive (frustrating), blue toe nails (hideous colour, not one I'd ever choose) were quite common-place and it became hard to imagine any kind of normality and comfort would ever return. 

It took Mick, hypnosis, hospital, an amazing surgeon’s magical mojo, several injections (caudal epidural, facets and sacroiliac joints for those who want the minutia of information :)), my family and most cool friends to help me heal. But, recover I did because of having such amazing love and support. Thank you.

In other news, we are now living the dream of having a Greek Island home to complement our one here in the UK. This means I can offer more retreats and specialist holidays for groups and individuals on Lesvos. Squeal and happy dance. Gently,, just in cases x

Would you like to discuss ailments? No? Farewell. Yes? Read on…
 
You may or may not know that in times of yore I was a poorly dollop and  needed surgery to mend my back. Quite a lot of surgery. More than once. The last one, in 1991, was a Transpedicular fixation of the spine at L4, L5, S1 – I am sharing this information for those who want nitty gritty :).

This is a magical operation whereby the surgeon puts screws into the spine and attaches rods in-between them. Mostly all is good in the lower back department. Twinges, niggles and random spasms can occur but are manageable. My husband and smalls are marvelous and help whenever it is needed. About 13 years ago I had an ‘episode’ whereby the disc above the operation prolapsed. But, after various interventions I managed to avoid further surgery and was back to it. 

Until now.

Defining what we do can be challenging because what we do defines who we are.

Who we are defines what people think. Of course, it doesn’t matter what people think. Unless they are wrong!

Maybe I asked for it by calling my book, The Psychic Way, but assumed (ha, never do that!) that having ‘way’ in the title suggests method/option and that the sub-title would clear up any possible misconceptions; as in Fine-tuning Your Intuition. I’d be wrong then. 

I have lost count of how many times, recently, I have said, “I do not work as a psychic” The reply is mostly, “Oh, but you are psychic aren’t you?”

I then feebly mutter under my breath and change the subject.

Here is the conversation that triggered this post – I am B and the questioner is D:

D - Is he going to leave me?

B - I don’t know.

D - Of course you know, you’re a psychic. Just tell me. It’s your job.

B - No it isn’t.

D - Oh. If that isn’t your job then what is?

B - I am an author, hypnotherapist and coach. I teach and host workshops.

D - But you are psychic.

B - Well yes, but I think we all are. The word is often misused…

D - Yeah whatever, is he going to leave me? 

B - As I said.

D - Pretend I have paid you to be my therapist and tell me.

B - I am not your therapist and you haven’t so no.

D - You think he’s going don’t you?

B - I’m past caring (I didn’t actually say that out loud). Why do you think he might?

D - Don’t do that therapist thing on me where you answer a question with a question to make us think for ourselves.

Then her phone rang.

D - OMG he has invited me away for the weekend with his parents.

B - That’s fab. Doesn’t seem like he is leaving.

D - You knew that didn’t you. You are amazing! I definitely want to book a proper reading with you. 

B - Did you not hear what I said earlier?

D - Tut, you’re just being modest. I want to write a book, you can help me with that. What shall I write about? Will you publish it? 

B- Sigh...

It is clear that when we do more than one thing in our work-life it becomes harder to define. In the past I have written about being typecast. Does it matter? 

It is time for some Greek island bliss so I am about to go to Lesvos - there's a surprise I hear you say. 

With that, I rest my case.