Three Year Spinal Pain Milestone and Health Care Update

The last two months of my life have been both overwhelming and enlightening- and I mean that in a mostly positive way.

So much has happened and unfolded since I began receiving private health care at the beginning of July. I've learned more these past two months than in three years under the "care" of the NHS. It's been moving so fast that I'm still trying to get my head around it all.

It began with x-rays and MRI scans, which revealed the first of several previously undiscovered abnormalities. I'll call them abnormalities because I don't know how else to phrase them right now. 

I learned my spine has some slight curving, likely to just be a result of the pain and it's affect on my posture. (Although that isn't really a cause for concern right now). 

I also discovered that I have an abnormally shaped or extra piece of bone near the base of my spine, sitting against my sacroiliac joint, which is just above the pelvis. 

My Doctor wanted to get a more in depth look at what was going on, so he sent me off to London for a CT scan at the beginning of August. I was scanned from head to toe for two and a half hours, and had to push myself way beyond my physical limitations to get through an exhausting twelve hours out of bed.

A week later, I got the results of the CT scans. 

I got some more shocking news; the bottom of my spine is fused! And unsurprisingly, my spine is extremely inflamed. (My discs are all still torn, herniated, and degenerated, too).

As you can imagine, I was shocked to learn that there were / are more problems with my body than I was aware of. Shocked. Speechless. I guess I still am.

Two months ago, I thought I had seven disc injuries caused by years of heavy lifting at work, and that was it.

Today, I have (at least) seven disc injuries; a curved, fused and inflamed spine; and a bone at the bottom of my spine that shouldn't even be there. 

I know now that these issues are probably not a result of heavy lifting, but are likely to have developed naturally as my body developed. I've been told that heavy-lifting may have triggered the abnormalities to make themselves known, but I will have had them for a very long time.

Suddenly the past makes a lot of sense to me. As a teenager, I has awful pains in my limbs which the doctors dismissed as growing pains. I had back pain regularly from age thirteen, and if I sat on the sofa for ten minutes (up until I was twenty-six), I would be hunched over like a little old lady. I'd always just put any back complaints down to working so hard.  For some reason I hadn't made the connection until I went private, and everything began to unravel. I'm not the brightest crayon in the box.

I'm trying to get my head around the fact that I'm not injured like I've believed for three years, but I have natural irregularities or conditions I was probably born with. Injuries sound temporary, but natural conditions sound far more permanent, don't they?

I'm left wondering why the NHS never picked up on any of the underlying issues. If they did, they never told me. I had MRI scans of my spine, but I was never sent for x-rays or a CT scan- which would have revealed the true extent of my spinal problems. Not one Doctor was the slightest bit interested in helping me, and I'm sure financial costs paid a part it in. The system for back injuries (in my county, at least) is appalling, and it's just not good enough. I feel let down by them,

How many other people are there out there getting inadequate care for their back and spinal pain / injuries? I wish the answer was zero but I'll bet there are thousands.

At the moment, I'm not sure what the future holds. I don't know if anything will fix the problems. I don't know if anything will get rid of the pain, or at least ease it to a more manageable level. I don't know if I'll ever be pain free again, or if I'll have to deal with pain every day for the rest of my life. I just don't know.

My new Doctor, however is dedicated to helping me find out. There are options that we can try. 

One option has already been activated; a few of weeks ago I had facet injections, right in to my spine. They were done under local anaesthetic and x-ray, so the Doctor could administer the steroids in to the exact areas. I felt like a human pin cushion! I lost count of how many injections I had after eight. Thankfully only one of them hurt like hell, and it confirmed exactly where the pain is coming from- the sacroiliac joint and that extra piece of bone! I've spent three years thinking the discs were the source of my pain, so it's completely bizarre!

It's been almost a month since those injections, and I've yet to see any improvement in my pain. For the first couple of weeks, my pain was actually far worse than usual. I couldn't lie on my back, or sit up against anything because my back hurt so much. It was difficult to get through. The doctor said it can take six weeks for the steroids to take affect (after originally telling me two), so there's still a possibility that the drugs will work, but whether they will I don't know.

In the mean time, he wants me to begin physiotherapy with a specialist physiotherapist to help get my body moving.

My first appointment was late this afternoon. It was an hour long appointment, and it was mostly just a chat today, so that she could gather as much information as possible about my current physical state, and medical history. I also had to do some basic stretches so that she could see how my body is functioning, and as my body is so tense and shaky, I even got a ten minute back massage! Score!

She was shocked by how I've been left this way for three years, and how little physiotherapy I've had with the NHS. She's not sure that physiotherapy is going to sort me out, but she's going to at least try to help me. Her aim is to help me make my body stronger again, and to relax all my tense, spasming muscles. (My limbs shake constantly).

I've got another appointment with her next Monday, and in the mean time I have to try to go for a short walk every day, and do some basic stretches. It's going to be interesting since today's session has left me in agony, but I love going for Autumn walks, so I'm just going to embrace it! I want my life back one day.

My parents have been thinking about getting me a dog for a while, so that I can have someone to keep me company, and I think I've found another reason for the 'pro' list. I think it would give me the motivation to take these walks every day, even when the pain is through the roof. We've never had a dog of our own- though I spent a lot of time helping out with my sister's old German Shepherds- so nothing's set in stone yet, but hopefully I'll have a four-legged fur baby to encourage me to take those steps in the right direction before too long.

Today also marks three years exactly since the pain started in my back. It's hard to believe I've been in pain for three years straight! I don't know how I've made it through these three years, but I know that this blog has had a lot to do with it; I think I would have gone crazy without this little space to throw myself in to and give myself a purpose every day!

I have you all to thank for reading this little blog, and for giving me a reason to keep blogging, so thank you! And thank you to everybody who comments on my posts and has left lovely messages of support on personal posts like this one over the years. You guys are awesome, and your support has helped me get through some truly crap days, so thanks for you your kind words and for continuing to read Polka Spots and Freckle Dots! It means more to me than you'll ever know!

A Little Update

Hi guys,

I just wanted to check in to apologize for the lack of posts here at the moment; quality and otherwise. It's been an over-whelming few weeks for me, and the stress and pain combined with a stifling heatwave and writer's block have all made blogging difficult.

I've tried to write so many times, only to find a lack of inspiration or motivation stopping me from typing. I actually have twenty-three posts in my drafts right now, and I'm not inspired to write any of them. I think I'll probably delete most of them and start again; there's no point forcing something that I'm clearly not motivated to write. Normal service should hopefully resume soon.

I have found the motivation to give my blog a little face lift, though. I've been trying to work out what to do with it for months, designing images with a lot of trial and error, but never liking the result when I put it all together. Now I'm doing it as I go along, I finally seem to be getting somewhere; although it's still a work in progress. I've added more pages and subjects to the right hand side bar, as you might have noticed, but I still have pages to edit / finish, and about 600 posts still to go back through and relabel correctly. It might take a few weeks, but hopefully when I'm done Polka Spots and Freckle Dots will be better organised and easier to navigate. 

Aside from the blog, as some of you will know, two and a half weeks ago, I began my journey in to private health care. I had three appointments in the space of one week- efficiency I'm just not used to after so little support from the NHS.

Last Wednesday, I got the results of my X-Rays and MRI scans. I didn't expect to learn anything I didn't already know- I'd had an MRI on the NHS in 2011 which (eventually) diagnosed my multiple disc injuries, so I wasn't expecting any new developments. 

Let's just say I was in for a surprise!

My Doctor began by showing me the X-Rays, and I could instantly see my spine was not exactly that of a healthy person. My discs were still all in various states of degeneration; the herniations were still herniated; they had not miraculously healed in the last three years... but I'd expected that.

What I didn't expect to see was that my spine was slightly- but visibly- curved in places, and that there was a little shadow near the base of my spine. Even to my untrained eye, I knew that was not how a spine should look.

The Doctor explained that near the bottom of my spine, there was a little bone on the side of one of my vertebrae that shouldn't be where it was, and there was a good chance it was causing a lot of my pain. It looked like a little butterfly beside another piece of bone. 

I was too overwhelmed by the new developments to remember to ask questions, so right now I'm not sure if the bone is out of place, or just not meant to be there at all, but I suspect the latter by what I could see on the scan.

He told me the curves to my spine could be a result of all the pain I'm in. Three years of relentless pain has obviously had some affect on my posture, but I never thought that it could physically affect my spine! 

I'm left wondering for now, and I'm curious as to what caused both of these 'new' issues. Whether they were caused by injury, I was born with them, or whether they're the result of a condition.. or something else entirely. I have a lot of questions to ask next time.

All I could do was listen to what he was telling me, respond with "okay..." and stare at the images on his computer as I tried to process it all. I wasn't frightened or upset by the news; I just couldn't believe there were more problems I didn't know about. The NHS hadn't picked up on them, or if they had, they didn't tell me.

The good news is, he told me he didn't see anything that told him to wheel me off to surgery there and then. That was a relief; the last thing I want is to go down that road, if I can help it. 

Instead, he discussed a few options with me and instead of telling me what to do, he asked for my opinions and asked what I'd like to do. We talked about physiotherapy and hydrotherapy, which I've already had; spinal injections, which cost a shocking £1500- each!; and CT scans- deep joy, another scan!

I asked him what he recommended, but also told him physiotherapy isn't working one little bit.

We came up with a plan...

The next step will take me to London for a CT scan. Early next week. I'm not quite sure why I'm going all the way to London for the scan, since it's a couple of hours drive from where I live, but he wants to get a more in-depth look at my insides to see what's going on. He also needs to find out where he should stab me with spinal injections for best results, as I'll be having three of them after the scan. I hope they don't hurt as much as being injected in the toe (with anaesthetic, not drugs!) did. After that, I think I'll be having intense hydrotherapy, since physiotherapy has never made the slightest bit of difference. I've had a few hydrotherapy sessions before, but not enough or often enough to find out if it could've made a difference. 

So, yeah, there's a lot going on, and things are moving in the right direction. There's no guarantees anything will work, but I have nothing to lose at this point. Hopefully the CT scan will tell me more about what's going on, so I can find out what the future holds, and what might help to get me back on my feet.

I'm looking forward to visiting London again next week, even if it is for a hospital visit. It's been three years since my last visit and I've missed those days out- I used to go several times a year to shop, sight-see, catch a musical, go to a gig, or visit an attraction. My Dad's driving me up, so hopefully I'll be able to persuade him to take a scenic route or visit something during the three hours between the dye injection and the actual scans. I can't even remember the last time I spent a whole day out with my Dad, just the two of us. 

The day is going to be a long one, and will involve more hours out of bed than I've managed in three years, so I'm preparing myself for a lot of pain and exhaustion, but I'm actually a little excited for the trip. Crazy, I know! I guess that's what happens when the most exciting part of your life is managing a trip to the supermarket. Haha!

Anyway, I'm sorry for so many personal posts recently, and I'm sorry for the lack of quality content. I'll do my best to get back in to the swing of things this week, starting with my Sunday favourites post tomorrow. 

I'm also sorry for leaving your comments and emails unanswered for so long, and I'll be setting some time aside to reply to all of them over the next few days. I have read them and I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who left me messages of support for my MRI scan; they meant a lot to me! You guys are all so lovely and your words have not gone unnoticed!

I'm a useless blogger, and I need to give myself a kick up the backside!

If you've made it through all of this, thanks for reading! And thanks for listening.

Have a great day!

My First Venture In To Private Health Care For Disc Injuries

On Wednesday, I met with a private doctor for a consultation about my disc injuries and sciatica. It was my first tentative step in to health care away from the NHS, and the most positive experience I've had with a Doctor in my three-years with disc injuries.

My parents arranged the appointment without my knowledge; I guess I should start with that. They've been threatening to get me private care for over a year... more like two, and for over a year and more like two I've repeatedly declined and refused, mostly because I don't want to inflict such a financial burden on them. And also because I'm as stubborn as week-old glitter nail polish. (Which is probably why they didn't tell me they'd pursued private care anyway, until the appointment was secured last week).

I can't say I was thrilled to hear the news. I'd told them 'no' hundreds of times, and they'd done it without my consent. It just made me want to bang my head against a brick wall.

I'm not ungrateful to them for wanting to get me private health care; I'm not; they just want to see me better, and if I had a child in the same situation I'd be doing the exact same thing. I just don't want to see them waste their money, which could be spent on far more important and greater things. My Dad should be using it to enjoy his new found retirement, for one thing. Private health care costs good money, and I don't want them to drain their bank accounts to get it for me. I'm especially worried that they'll spend their money only to discover nothing can be done, and it will all be for nothing... but that's me; I worry and over think everything. They've told me countless times that they've got this, and that they want to do this for me, but it doesn't mean I'm comfortable with it. I burden them with enough already as an injured person.

Regardless of my feelings, yesterday morning I headed off to my first appointment at the private hospital, with both of my parents in tow, trying to keep an open mind and low expectations.

My appointment was at a private hospital near Swindon, a small hospital that really didn't look all that different to an NHS hospital or large Doctor's surgery. There were waiting rooms with coffee machines; long carpeted corridors with doors leading off to a variety of rooms for consultations and specialist treatments; and Doctors and nurses promenading down the halls, going about their business.

Just off the first waiting room, was a small office where I had to go and register my contact details, and provide information like my emergency contacts, and if the health care would be paid by insurance of ourselves. We also had to leave credit / debit card details, which will be held for three months as a deposit. I guess that's in case we disappear off the face of the Earth, and don't pay the bills. The woman was friendly and it was quite informal. The only part I didn't like nor think was necessary was being asked for my marital status. I always feel judged and pitied when I have to say I'm single. She told me to stay single as long as possible, and then proceeded to chat about her son who is moping because his girlfriend has gone travelling. 

The registration took less than five minutes, and I was then sent down a corridor to another waiting room, where a couple of other patients were waiting. It was basically a narrow area about twenty feet long with a row of chairs against a wall, at the corner of two corridors that led to off to many rooms. We were a little early, and my pain was so high I started burning up, shaking, and feeling nauseated. (It wasn't nerves, I still feel like it a day later). The appointment was about fifteen minutes late, which isn't bad compared to how late some of my NHS appointments have been, but I was dying to get out of there for some fresh air.

I was called in by my new doctor, a friendly man, who I'd say was in his early forties. He was immediately very welcoming to my Mum and I, which helped to put me at ease. I took a seat, and was asked to tell him my story from the beginning. What happened, when it began, where my pain is, what treatment I've had, who I'd seen and that sort of thing. I was poked and prodded, and had to stretch forwards and backwards so he could see where it hurts most and what stretches cause the most pain, and I then had to parade around on my tiptoes and on my heels, so he could see how my legs were functioning.

He is the first medical person to acknowledge just how much pain I'm in, and commented on how much my body was shaking from it. I can't tell you just how much of a relief it was to hear that, after three years of not being taken seriously by the NHS. It's a relief to be told somebody believes you, when so many others wouldn't listen to the facts.

He was shocked by how little support I've been given, although he said it wasn't uncommon because the NHS don't like to spend money where they can help it. Which is fair enough; they only have so much funding, and a never-ending stream of patients, but it isn't right. He did say he was amazed I hadn't been referred to see a spinal surgeon or spinal specialist, and had just been left like this for so long.

He told me that there should be things we can try, but was honest about the potential expenses. For instance, a spinal injection would cost £1500- each!, and some spinal surgeries could cost £6000- although I'm sure that's just the price of the surgery, and doesn't include everything else like aftercare and room and board. (Everything is still cheaper than I'd imagined). I don't want to have surgery if I can help it, and he agreed that surgery should be the very last resort. I won't know for sure what my options are until I've had a new MRI scan, but unlike what the NHS have led to me to believe, surgery might be a possibility one day.

He wants to see an up-to-date scan of my spine, and automatically suggested a different hospital to visit for the scan, where MRI scans should be a third of the price than they are at this hospital. We didn't even ask about pricing, so I'm impressed he didn't want to make it as expensive as possible for us. He was very efficient; he immediately wrote down the hospital to call for an appointment (not that I could read his handwriting to remember where I'd be going, haha!), and then sent me off to have some x-rays done.

I headed over to the x-ray wing feeling hope for the first time in three years, and was waiting for no more than five minutes before I was called by the radiologist. I was taken to a changing room, where I was told to remove my dress and bra and put on a hospital gown, although I was allowed to keep my leggings, shoes, and glasses on. I learnt it's not dangerous to be wearing an under-wired bra or other metals during an x-ray, but they can get in the way of the area being scanned, potentially obstructing areas on the x-ray images.

I had three different x-rays taken standing up, and had to stand still while various technical-looking x-ray machinery was placed in the right places, and the x-rays taken. Again, the radiologist was very friendly, kind and patient, so it was a relaxed experience. It all took about five minutes, and I was then left to take a seat for another five whilst she left to check the x-rays had come out fine, after which I was able to go redress and I was free to leave.

I left with an open mind, and for the first time in three years, I left a medical appointment with hope. For the first time in three years, a medical person hasn't tried to patronise me, tell me to "just get on with it", or used my "young" age as an excuse not to help. He hasn't made me feel lazy or like it's my own fault that I'm house-bound, he hasn't made me feel like a hypochondriac, or dismissed my pain as nothing. For the first time in three years, I was listened to, taken seriously, and not ignored. I guess money really does make a difference to how you're treated in this world.

I can't believe how one ten-minute consultation could be so different to all the appointments I've had with the NHS in three whole years.

I've lost count of how many times I've begged GPs and specialists for help, only to be ignored, and told "to just get on with it" at every appointment.

I've lost count of how many times a doctor or physiotherapist used the phrase "you're young" as a reason why I shouldn't be in this mess, and as a reason why I should get on with it, or a reason not to help me. (News flash people, just because a person is young it doesn't mean they're invincible; bad things happen at any age, and everybody deserves to be given proper care no matter their age).

I've been told the pain is in my head, and that it's not as bad as I say.

I've even been told by my physiotherapist if I don't get myself better I'll never get married or have kids!

I had no idea I was living in 1952. Apparently my life would be over if I never became a house-wife.

I've had doctors say I shouldn't be on any medication; one took me off everything cold turkey, resulting in three days of severe withdrawal symptoms and an emergency call to the doctor at night. I've never been so ill in my life. My body was evidently addicted to Tramadol. And still is. Needless to say, I never went back to that incompetent doctor again.

I've come home from many appointments in tears, overwhelmed by their words, their attitudes, the lack of help, and the pain.

You could say, I've not had the best experience with the NHS over these last three years. And I know I'm not the only one.

Two day later, and I already have an appointment for that MRI scan- early this Saturday morning! It took me two and a half months to get an MRI scan on the NHS, but this time it was arranged in less than 24 hours with the appointment less than three days after I spoke with the Doctor! Now if that's not efficient, I don't know what is!

I'm already freaking out a bit at the thought of the scan. I'm claustrophobic and last time I had a panic attack in the machine, which pissed off one of the technicians. This time, however, I'll be having an open MRI scan, (which I made sure to ask about), which isn't as enclosed as the closed MRI scanner, so hopefully I won't have any reason to freak out when I'm in it. If I can see I can easily escape, I should be alright. I think I'll blog about the experience, too, for anybody out there who might want a patient's account of what MRI scans are like.

I don't know what the future holds for me, but I'm starting along this new road with hope; and that's something I didn't have three days ago. What ever happens, it won't be easy, but after three years of living in pain with my life on hold, I know I can get through anything that this new journey throws at me. I can't let my parents down, and I'm not planning on ever giving up! Who knows, maybe I'll be able to get my life back one day, after all!

Fall Out Boy Live In Birmingham March 2014

*Before I say anything else, I just wanted to warn you that this post is extremely long because I have a tendency to ramble on. I wanted to write this post down for me, so I can remember it, but I don't expect anybody to sit through and read it to the end, so please don't feel obliged to!

Last Sunday, I stuck a middle finger up to my disc injuries and took a little trip away from home to cross something off my bucket list that's been high on the list for nine years. I finally managed to see Fall Out Boy perform live!

I've been a big fan of Fall Out Boy since about 2005 but I never managed to see them play live the first time around. So when they reunited last year and announced a European tour, I was like a kid on fizzy pop in a sweet shop at Disneyland and nothing could've stopped me from getting tickets. Not even the concerns my family voiced repeatedly over the six months leading up to it. I knew I had to go.

I spent the weeks leading up to it making a plan to try to make the trip as easy as possible on myself and my physical limitations. I was supposed to be going with my younger sister, Sarah, but a week or so before the gig she slipped and suffered a bad concussion from hitting her head on a lamp post, and wasn't well enough to go. Nobody else could make it on short notice, so my older sister came with me instead. My parents were kind enough to go out of their way to drive us the eighty miles up to Birmingham so we'd make it in time, as the sister had prior commitments in the middle of nowhere and a broken down car.

The drive up on Sunday afternoon was gorgeous. It was an unseasonably warm 18 degrees Celsius; all blue skies and sunshine, and felt like an early summer's day. The fields were a really vibrant green from all that rain we've had recently. Most of the trees were blossoming and there were cheerful yellow daffodils everywhere. It was hard not to smile at the early signs of Spring.

I took these photos of the sun going down from the car and love the way I caught the rays in the photos.

I traveled up in a very rare all-black outfit, but didn't get time to take a decent photo of it. I still bloody love this Alice & You dress and can't stop wearing it! It also happens to be really comfortable for travelling in. 

I wore the shrug with a black bird print dress, leggings, and studded ankle boots to the gig, but time was so tight I didn't get a photo.

We arrived at the train station at the International Airport / LG Arena around 6pm, jumped on a train to the New Street station, and grabbed a taxi to the hotel. We had just enough time to check in, drop our bags off, and change before taking another cab to the NIA arena.

I've only been to the Birmingham NIA once before- to see Kings of Leon in 2010- and it definitely isn't my favourite place to see a show. It's a bit of a dive and I think it looks like it could've been a race track for greyhounds in a previous life... but needs must. We had seats in block 12, the tier nearest the stage, which gives a pretty decent view. We were practically in the same seats as for KOL, and I'd forgotten just how little space there was to move. Sitting down, my knees were pressed against the row in front, and I'm only 5'6''! My sister is much taller and had to sit side-ways on until the show started. When everyone was seated during the support act, I got a pretty bad cramp in my thigh and couldn't stretch to get rid of it. Ouch!

We arrived in time to catch a few songs from The Pretty Reckless, the support act. I'd never heard their music before, but they were pretty good. I was impressed with the drummer. I'm going to have to check out some of their music.

I was bursting with excitement by the time Fall Out Boy finally came on stage around 9 o' clock. They opened with a killer performance of The Phoenix, wearing balaclavas (as a reference to the music video) and waving a white FOB flag. 

They were incredible! They performed a good mix of new and old songs from all of their albums, including most of the songs from Save Rock and Roll. I couldn't tell you which part was my favourite because the entire set was amazing. I was blown away by how beautiful Patrick's voice is; he sure can sing live! I think he's so underrated as a musician. I was impressed with Howard Wolowitz's Joe's guitar solo and spent most of the show entranced by topless Andy's impressive drumming. (Sorry, not sorry). I would never have really classed Fall Out Boy as a rock band, but they sure have that sound live! I was really surprised because I think the instruments are very subtle on their albums. It sounded amazing. I'd put this gig up there with the Linkin Park one I saw a few years ago!

I didn't really take any photos as I wasn't close enough for clear shots, but I did video most of it! My camera has a 14 x optical zoom and records in HD, so my videos are always so much clearer than my photos. I've added a few of the clearest ones below.

There are also a couple of short videos on my Instagram: Thnks Fr Th Mrs and I Don't Care.

I spent the show wobbling like a newborn giraffe; my legs and arms were shaking due to the pain. The sciatica in my leg was hurting me even more than my back, so I spent most of the show sitting down, which was okay as I had a clear view for most of the gig. It was without a doubt one of the best shows I've ever seen, and I don't regret putting myself through the extra pain for a second. I can finally cross the goal of seeing Fall Out Boy live off of my bucket list and I can't wait to see them again one day.

We stayed in Birmingham over night in a Premier Inn on Waterloo Street, which I'd pre-booked for the bargain price of £43. I almost always use Premier Inn's for my concert travels, and this one was in a lovely location. The buildings were beautiful, and there were some glamorous looking bars and boutiques along the street.

From our room, we had a gorgeous view. Just in front of the window and to the left was this beautiful building. Can you believe this is a Caffe Nero?!

And to the right we could see this stunning little cathedral. (I think it was the Cathedral of St. Phillip). I awakened to the sound of pretty church bells at ten to eight after two and a half hours sleep, and I didn't even mind. It was in a square just across from the hotel, and I really wanted to take a look around, but we didn't have time. It was surrounded with trees, and a small cemetery, and it would've been gorgeous to photograph. I'll have to go back one day, and I'd definitely stay in that hotel again. The staff were very friendly, and the room was comfortable; it even had a walk in shower instead of a tub- always helpful when you struggle to get in and out of the bath like I do!

The morning after, I was in agony and hurting all over, but as I had nothing to eat the day before at all, we took a taxi to the Bull Ring to get some breakfast and pay a very quick visit to Selfridges. We walked through Debenhams who had the craziest animal lamps and had a quick browse of the make up and food hall at Selfridges. The food hall floor also has a Paperchase on it... When my sister realized this, she banned me from looking as I would never have left... but I still came out with a beautiful little seahorse print notebook! Mwahahaha!

There were lots of foreign treats to browse through and I found some of my favourite Irish Dairy Milk bars, so I came away happy! Irish Dairy Milk is so much richer than English Cadbury's, but this is the first time I've found it outside of Ireland. 

I also brought home some Hello Panda biscuits which are from Singapore. They remind me of those Cartoony biscuits that were around in the nineties; does anyone remember those?

By the time we went for our train at midday, I was struggling with the pain. I was glad to get on it, and thankfully, it was a comfortable journey because we booked first class seats home. I've never travelled first class before, but the tickets were only £2 more than the standard fair for the same train, so we couldn't resist. (We saved something ridiculous like £120 on our tickets!) The seats were the perfect shape to support my spine, so I was relatively comfortable and just sat back and enjoyed the view from the windows. 

My Dad kindly came to pick us up from the train station in Oxford by which time I was in agony. I crawled straight in to bed when I got home, and have barely been able to move since. I slept for fourteen hours on and off on Monday night, and awoke on Tuesday evening to find everything from the neck down (the neck included) hurt like hell. 

A couple of days on and the pain is still horrendous, but it's easing back from the uninjured body parts and is mostly confined to my back, torso, and left leg. I still can't so much as sit up in bed, but I don't regret going ; not for a second. It's a small price to pay for twenty-two hours of normalcy, I really do believe that. I've lost so much in my life that made me who I am... or was... and sometimes I just need to grab a piece of it back, if even just for a night. I don't know if that makes any sense, but to me it does. I love music and I love live music even more. It's one of my favourite vices in life, and I honestly can't think of many things I love more than seeing my favourite bands perform live on stage. If it turns out I have to live with back pain for the rest of my life, then I would happily put myself through this pain again and again to enjoy a new show here and there. 

I crossed something of my bucket list on Sunday night, and I'm so glad I was there to do it! Fall Out Boy were incredible live, and my only problem now is that I I'm dying to see them again! Gigs are like tattoos or Pringles; when you get a taste for them, one is never enough! I can't wait for the next tour!

Have you been to a Fall Out Boy gig? What's the best band or singer you've ever seen in concert? Let me know in the comments!

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Fall Out Boy Live At The O2 March 2018
Fall Out Boy Live At Wembley October 2015

Just a Dash of Hound

Hey guys,

I've got an outfit post for you today.

As I mentioned earlier in the week, last Sunday marked the anniversary of the day I first woke up in pain and was aware something wasn't quite right with my back. (I still don't know when I actually did the damage to it, but I think it started a few weeks earlier). Anyway, I didn't actually manage to take a photo of myself on the day, but this outfit was worn the afternoon before, which I'm counting as a record of the two year milestone.

I bought this lovely Peter Pan dress from Rachel's blog sale a month or two ago. When I saw it up for grabs, I just had to have it because of the amazing print. It has little daschund dogs all over it! I love daschunds, but didn't have a single dog-print anything in my wardrobe, so it had to be mine. It was originally from Primark, and it's only a polyester number, but I love it! I've not actually stepped foot in Primark in two or three years, so buying this dress was a real novelty. Thanks, Rachel!

I kept this look very simple with black leggings, black studded slippers, and a bold coral coloured cardigan from Matalan. I have this cardigan in four colours, and they're the softest things ever!

Isn't the print adorable?

I really love the beautiful Mother-of-Pearl buttons these cardigans have.

These are the mismatched accessories I was wearing. I wore my new strawberry brooch and my cute fox pin, both from Cath Kidston (where else!?), and a jewel coloured ring from Evans.

Outfit Details

Dress-Primark // Leggings-New Look // Slippers-New Look // Cardigan-Matalan // Fox Pin-Cath Kidston // Strawberry Brooch-Cath Kidston // Ring-Evans //

My Life With Disc Injuries: A Two Year Milestone

I can't quite believe it myself, but yesterday, (8th September), marked two years of living in constant pain with disc injuries. I'm finding it difficult to comprehend how I've made it through 104 weeks or 731 days of life in pain, and living this unconventional life on hiatus that confines me to bed. How did that happen? Where has the time gone? And how did I get here?

If somebody had told me two years ago that I had injured several of my discs, and would still be in pain two years later, I would never have believed them.  I couldn't have even imagined living such a life. Bad things like that happened to other people, not me. It happened to people in magazines and on TV, and to people much older than I. I was even convinced, when the pain first began, that I'd be back to normal in a week or two if I just kept going. How wrong I was.

What would follow would prove to be two of the most difficult and life-altering years of my life to date. Two years filled with disc injuries, constant pain, medical appointments, a cocktail of painkillers (none of which have worked), little help from the NHS, and learning how to cope with all this whilst being house-bound with my life on hold.

My life has changed dramatically over the last two years-

- I've lost my freedom and independence.

- I've lost my physical strength and full mobility.

- I'm in pain twenty-four hours a day and rely on medication that doesn't even skim the surface of it.

- I spend up to twenty-four hours a day in bed with just my thoughts and a laptop for company.

- Most of my friends have stopped calling, but I've learnt who my true friends are.

- I can't get out and about much. I can't go and do all the things I enjoy most in life. I can't socialise.

- I can't fully take care of myself; I have to rely on family members for help with some tasks.

- I can't work (in the physical sense out of bed), though I am still employed.

- I don't sleep well, and have turned nocturnal.

- And waiting rooms have become a common sight.

... but I also feel like I've learnt so much and grown so much as a person during this time.

Finding myself in this serious and fragile state so suddenly really opened my eyes to what is really important in life, and it actually snapped me out of a bad bout of depression that I'd been struggling with for a decade. It literally lifted over night, easing away like a blanket of fog. I think I just realised how trivial and unimportant some of the things that were getting me down and plaguing me were compared to what I was suddenly going through with my back, and I suddenly had a whole new outlook on life. I can't really explain it; I can't quite get my head around how a difficult situation like this could improve my depression, but I'm thankful that it has. The depression is still with me, of course, but it's mostly lying dormant now, and I've not been this content with life since my early teens.

I don't allow myself to be bothered by every little thing in life like I used to. I prefer it this way. Life's too short.

I know if I hadn't have become injured and bed ridden from pain, that I probably wouldn't be a plus size blogger today, nor would I be so comfortable with who I am. I wouldn't have needed to find something to occupy myself with, and I wouldn't have stumbled upon the wonderful world of body positivity and fat acceptance on Tumblr by chance. I never knew such a world existed, and I was honestly amazed when I saw women like me being comfortable in their own skin and enjoying fashion. I loved fashion and beauty, but I still hadn't learnt to love myself at that point. (I had spent my entire life hating myself). I started following some of these fatshion and body positivity blogs, and I began to accept myself a little more each day. I was hooked.

Less than six months later I found the courage to begin my own blog to share my outfits as a plus size girl... me; the girl who hid from cameras for over a decade, and untagged herself from Facebook photos. This would never have happened if I hadn't have injured myself. I know this as a fact.

Starting my blog is one of the best things I've ever done, and I truly mean that. I have it and all my lovely readers to thank for so much. I started it in an attempt to work towards self-acceptance, to share my love of fashion, and to keep myself occupied while I was alone in bed all day. I decided that I wanted to have something positive to look back on one day from a difficult time in my life. I think I've achieved that.

I could never have imagined the impact this blog would have on my life. It's kept me distracted and occupied like I'd hoped, giving me something to focus on and throw myself in to every day. It's given me a purpose in life. My mind is always busy, which stops me from dwelling on my pain, and it keeps me from boredom. I have somewhere to express myself; to share what I'm feeling along with writing about things I'm passionate about; a place to share the real me. I find blogging here so therapeutic; I feel my troubles ease away with every word I write and a sense of accomplishment when I publish a post. Writing has done more for me than any doctor ever could. It's been there for me when I've had nothing else, when the pain had been raging, and I've felt a little lost and alone. It's taught me so much about myself, and helped me to evolve as a person. It's helped me to go further along the road to self-acceptance than I've ever been before;  a million miles further than I ever thought I'd reach. I've gone from detesting myself and my body, to being content with who I am. And I know I wouldn't possibly have reached this place if it wasn't for the struggle I've faced over these last two years. I would never have had the inspiration, confidence, or time to get to where I am today.

But... I have made it here. I have become a blogger. I have become part of a wonderful community, and I have come along leaps and bounds on the yellow brick road to self acceptance... I have made it through two years of pain and living on hiatus. I gave myself the tools to get myself through two years of pain and uncertainty, and if I hadn't have started this blog, I know the last two years would have been a much harder struggle.

My blog may be small, but I love what I've created and I'm so thankful to everyone who has read and commented on my posts, offered me support, and kept me going. It's thanks to you that I made it through to this two year milestone unscathed, strong, and still fighting. So, thank you from the bottom of my heart!

I may not have made any improvement with my pain levels or recovery during a full two years, and I may see the future with uncertainty, but I've proven to myself that good really can come out of difficult times. And that to me is a sign that I can make it through another two years if I have to, and I can make it through anything.

Here's to the future!