Several years ago I was playing golf with two of my friends. The opening hole was a par four with water left and woods on the right. Jan struck a perfect drive right down the center of the fairway. Mike knocked his into the woods and I dunked mine in the water.
Jan hit his second shot on the green and finished the hole by two putting. Mike chipped out of the woods, hit his third shot on the green and one putted. I took a lateral drop out of the water, added a one stoke penalty, hit my third shot on the green and one putted. We all took a different path, but all finished the hole with a par four.
Our accomplishment prompted Jan to say, “There’s a lot of ways to get to Cleveland.” We all took a different route, but achieved a common goal. That observation on “life” has stuck with me through the years and brings me to today’s tale.
I have been having back pain for a couple of years. The pain is in my lower back and sometimes travels down my butt and through my hamstring to my knee. I had an x-ray done last winter that showed that I have the narrowing in a couple of my lower disks and a two or three bone spurs on my spine. (Just part of the fun of getting older.) The formal diagnosis was “sacroiliac joint dysfunction of right side”. I just thought I had a pain in my a#%. The examination and diagnosis was done in Michigan.
For those of you who may prefer a more complete description, your sacroiliac joint is a minimally moveable joint that connects the lowest part of the spine – a bone called the “sacrum” – to the back of the hip bones. The sacrum wedges in between the two hip bones, contributing greatly to spinal stability. When the sacroiliac joint moves out of alignment, or when inflammation affects it, dysfunction and/or pain may result. These two processes are different from one another: When the joint is out of alignment, the result is excessive movement, a potential stretching of the ligaments that cross the joint, and pain. When inflammation affects the SI joint, it’s usually a result of a type of arthritis that affects you systemically. Key symptoms of this type are pain, stiffness, and immobility.
My alignment is fine. I have a “type of arthritis that affects me systemically” which results in the pain in my a#$. My pain increases when I go up and down steps or walk on uneven ground like that found on a golf course. I golf, therefore, I have pain.
I began a regiment of physical therapy last fall that helped, but didn’t cure, my problem. The next level of treatment was an injection in the right side of my sacroiliac joint. After establishing a relationship with a local doctor in Florida, he sent me to a “pain clinic” for further examination and treatment. The Florida pain clinic people reached the same conclusion that had been made in Michigan. I had two options: 1) do nothing, bite the bullet, and learn to live with my pain in the a#$ or 2) try a local injection to help eliminate the pain. I chose option 2.
And what does all of this have to do with golfing and going to Cleveland? Be patient. I’m getting there.
The procedure in Florida took place in December and was pretty straight forward. I had a reporting time and I was taken directly into the clinic where they took my vital signs: temperature, blood pressure, and something to do with oxygen that required a clamp to my finger. They listened to my heart, heard a beat, and took me into a room for “the procedure”. The “procedure” includes the use of a fluoroscope that allows the doctor to “see” your spine and connecting parts. This helps him to pinpoint the actual injection.
I walked in to the “procedure room” on my own, climbed up onto a table, loosen my belt, pulled down my pants to expose my waist, (some might call it dropping trou) and lifted my shirt. The doctor and his crew of two sterilized the injection site, turned on the fluoroscope so we could both see the “procedure”, numbed the site, and injected the magic juice.
The entire process took about ten minutes. I got off the table, put my clothes back together, sat in the waiting room for fifteen minutes and then drove myself home.
I had another “procedure” yesterday in Michigan. This was a “more formal” experience. I was required to report 30 minutes prior to the “procedure”. During my wait I signed some documents, agreed that they could give me a blood transfusion if necessary (very rare) and chit chatted with the staff. It was all very nice.
I was taken back to an area of the building that had several small holding rooms screened off by hanging curtains. I was placed in room eight which was not really a room but more of “an area” behind curtain number eight. A nurse came in and took my vital signs: temperature, blood pressure, and something to do with oxygen that required a clamp to my finger. She also checked my heart and heard a beat. (sound familiar?) After everything checked out, the nurse gave me a gown wrapped in a warm blanket, directed me to strip down to “nothing but my socks”, put the gown on, leave it open in the back, and relax.
I followed the directions to the letter and waited. After a few minutes had passed another nurse came in to check on me, briefly describe the “procedure” and explained that she would be with me throughout the entire time. Shortly after that a man came in and directed me to lie down on the bed so that he could transport me to the “procedure room”. He told me that he would be running the fluoroscope while the doctor conducted the “procedure”. The doctor came in, asked if I had any questions, and verified that we were doing a “right sacroiliac joint injection”.
The crew wheeled me into another room. I rolled off the transport table and onto the “procedure” table. I was face down and bottom up. The doctor and his crew of two sterilized the injection site, turned on the fluoroscope so we could both see the “procedure”, numbed the site, and injected the magic juice. (same ole same ole)
After the magic juice was administered, I rolled back on to the transport table, and was returned to the area behind curtain number eight. I was asked if I wanted anything to eat or drink and told to remain on the bed for fifteen minutes. The doctor and a couple of different nurses checked on me to make sure that all was well. After fifteen minutes had passed, they took my blood pressure, told me to get dressed, and was allowed to drive myself home.
Why tell this tale? To confirm for you that just like the golfers who managed to shoot their way to par through the trees and out of the water, when it comes to getting pain relief through a “right sacroiliac joint injection”, there’s a lot of ways to get to Cleveland.