The Verdict

Steve went to the neurosurgeon today. Basically, the only option is surgery. He is scheduled for June 17th. Of course again, it all depends on what workman's comp says. If they pick it up, he'll have to go to another neurosurgeon and we go back to square one. That would suck, but in the long run, financially, it wouldn't be that bad. According to our benefits person at work, the workman's comp adjustor received the records from our family physician (although we never signed a release for that, so go figure there!) but the results of the MRI weren't included. After all the trouble we've had with them, I'm not suprised. The adjustor said she hopes to make a decision by Monday.

In the meantime, we are sceduled for surgery. I'm a little irritated at my dear sweet husband. For some reason he didn't want me going to this appointment. Don't know why, I've always gone with him. But whatever. Anyway, he didn't ask hardly any questions. He didn't even ask which hosptial to go to. Seriously! He didn't ask how the surgery would be done as far as an incision or laprascopically. He didn't find anything out about money/payment. I swear. Men!

He did find out that he'd be in the hospital for three days and then at home for six to twelve weeks. Then he'll go to PT. They are going to fuse together his L5 and his tailbone. The disc (I think, again, I wasn't there to ask freaking questions...I'm not bitter though) is completely gone so there is nothing to do but fuse it together. The Dr says the rest of Steve's vertabae look good and he was shocked that this one is as bad as it is, considering his one is so bad.

I'm sure Steve is worried. I wouldn't know, we've not really talked much about it. I've been running Tanner all over town in the evenings this week so we've not really had time. He is supposed to go out of town on Tuesday for work and is still planning on going, which I think is stupid. But what do I know?

I'm very worried about all of this. That's my job as his wife-to worry-right? I snapped at Tanner tonight on the way to rehersal and told her I was at the end of my rope dealing with sick, grouchy people and I didn't need her to keep asking the same freaking questions over and over. I told her that although she may not understand it, I'm stressed to the max and I need for her to be on her best behavior. I know it's not fair to take things out on her and honestly, I try not to. I feel like if I discuss my fears with Steve, that that's not realy fiar either. So besides the occasional good hard cry in the bathtub, I bottle everything inside and then I tend to blow at someone. I've got to get better at that!

I'm exhausted. I think my bed is calling my name. Toodles.