Remember when I wrote about getting Botox and trigger point injections. Well last week I went for a follow up and follow up trigger point injections.
Yes, I willing went to get stuck with needles at the full digression of a medical professional.
No, I am not insane. I promise.
So I had trigger point injections (no Botox).
It’s never the most pleasant experience but if you get the desired results it’s worth it, even this time which was highly unlike all the other clinic visits (but I’ll spare you the details).
We also talked about the possibility of changing up my meds, for muscle management since I’m finding that I’ve becoming more “loopy, droopy, and stupid” but I’m not getting much in terms of less tightness and spasms in my legs. I guess it is possible to build up a tolerance (which I could’ve guessed but I wish someone had come out & said it anyway).
The problem is every medication has its drawbacks and there’s no guarantee that any of them will work any better. In fact I wouldn’t be surprised if none of them work well for me, at all. I mean, anyone who saw me during the short time I took B@clofen calls it “the crazy stroke drug.”
A few weeks ago I got into a discussion at PT that ended with my ankle being taped up, for therapeutic purposes, so I snapped a few pictures for the appointment for a visual, because my brain is fried.
He supports the tapping since it can have really great benefits. I’m not sure how I feel about it long term but we’ll see how things go. Knowing how my body has been the last few years, who knows?
Once we figured out how long the effects of the trigger point injections lasted a plan was made and out came the needles (well needle).
Normally I go sans any anesthetic, because I’m all badass like that.
Actually it’s more like I hate cold sprays or creams and get post-anesthetic headaches like it was my job (that last part I had forgotten about until I was half way home and the car spun about 180 degrees, thankfully not literally).
And I am a badass like that.
But my doctor wanted to make sure my muscles were “jumpy” because he was in a trigger point and not because he stuck a needle in my leg. So I sucked it up and took the spray, begrudgingly.
A few minutes later it was done and I was out the door, all except for the fact that one of my socks looked like it belonged to Curt Schilling.
Apparently I was going to be a bleeder too; again, not my usual M.O, but it’s not like I can control it.
The bruising is more than usual as well but that’s always an unknown.
The plan from here is to go back in the fall for follow up and the possibility of Botox and/or Trigger Point injections then.