When I was booked for my lumbar puncture the neurologist’s nurse said “Drink a lot of coca-cola during the day before your lumbar puncture, as well as on the day you have your lumbar puncture, and in the morning before you actually have it”.  She continued, “The more coke you drink the better it will be afterwards.”  She also told me not sit up for several days afterward and to have someone drive me home after the lumbar puncture was performed, so I could lay in the back seat of the car.  I was to stay as flat as possible, for as long as necessary. 

I kept thinking that ‘Lumbar Puncture’ sounded so ominous.  I knew that lumbar meant the spinal cord and that puncture meant hole.  I wondered who would knowingly want to have someone create a hole in any area of their spinal cord.  Then I suddenly realized that I was one of those crazy people, I wanted that hole, I wanted that diagnosis.

My husband stayed home from work to be on hand to drive me to and from the hospital for the spinal tap.  We placed blankets and pillows in the back seat of the car the evening before, so that I could lay down all the way home, which was about an hour away.  We also stocked up on plenty of coke to see me through this very scary procedure. 

I had heard horror stories from people who had had spinal taps and from people who knew people who had had spinal taps.  Not one of these accounts was pleasant.  I was quite frankly very shaky going into this situation.

Drinking coke at 7:00 AM in the morning, on the day of my Lumbar Puncture, was difficult.  I arrived at the hospital at 8:00 A.M. and went to the day surgery department.  I was directed to a private room.  I was given the usual hospital gown with the gaping opening in the back, and told to change into it ‘with the opening toward the back’.  Further instructions stated that I was to wait on the bed and the doctor would be with me shortly. 

Soon a nurse proceeded to get out a sterile pack wrapped in green material.  She donned vinyl gloves and carefully and methodically opened the pack and spread the contents on a metal tray that had also been in a sterile green cloth.  She cautiously arranged two long needles, two small metal bowls, one large metal bowl, a pair of tongs, some gauze, and various other items on the tray.  I kept looking at those syringes.  I couldn’t take my eyes off those syringes.

The neurologist breezed in and donned his rubber gloves.  He directed me to sit on the side of the hospital bed.  The nurse then rolled a hospital food-table in front of me, and put a pillow on it.  The doctor told me to lean across the table and hug the far side.  It was all very bewildering.  All accounts that I had heard involved the patient laying on their side, curled up in the fetal position.  I also heard horror stories about experiencing a great deal of pain when they felt the needle being inserted.  This was very different.

In my odd position I felt the doctor’s cool fingers on my back, followed by a cold sensation of while he spread a disinfecting agent on my back.   While I waited for the needle insertion the nurse gave me sips of my coke.  The doctor and I carried on a conversation of small talk.  I kept wondering when he was going to put that long needle into my back.  After a short time the doctor said, “Okay, all done.  Please lay down on your side for a few minutes.” 

I hadn’t felt the needle.  So I said, “Are you really finished?” 

Whereas he chuckled lightly and said, “I do it differently than most do.”  He took of his gloves and said, “Phone and make an appointment when you get home.  See you then.”  And he walked out the door.

When I arrived home my children had brought the small TV upstairs and had arranged the living room as a temporary hospital room.  They had also rented a few movies to be viewed during my recovery.

For the next few days I lay around watching TV, reading, sleeping, and sipping coke.  I seldom had to get off the couch.  When I did I received a piercing headache for my efforts.  One of my children held a glass of coke and a straw for me to drink until the headache waned.  I was served all my meals on the couch.  I slept a great deal. I am sure that the bad experiences that I could have experienced were diminished because of the coke and not having to get up too often.  Due to my husband’s and children’s excellent care.

Bonnie

What a Spinal Tap or Lumbar Puncture is:

A long, thin, hollow needle is inserted between two vertebrae in the lower spine and into the space where the Cerebrospinal Fluid (CSF) circulates.  CSF is obtained by doing a lumbar puncture or “spinal tap.”  One to two tablespoonfuls of the fluid are then withdrawn.

Cerebrospinal Fluid (CSF) is a clear, colorless liquid which bathes the central nervous system.  Primarily, CSF cushions the brain within the skull and serves as a shock absorber for the central nervous system.  CSF also circulates nutrients and chemicals filtered from the blood and removes waste products from the brain.  Examining CSF can be useful in diagnosing MS and many other diseases of the nervous system.

A lumbar puncture is performed to check for special proteins in the CSF called immunoglobulins.  These proteins are produced by something called ‘B lymphocytes’.  B lymphocytes are overactive in the central nervous system of a person with Multiple Sclerosis; therefore a high level of immunoglobulins in the spinal fluid is an indicator of MS. 

Some people are understandably reluctant to undergo this test because it involves discomfort.  In addition, people sometimes experience headaches for a few days afterward.  However, the information obtained from a spinal tap can be extremely helpful in sorting out cases where the MRI results are inconclusive.  I was one of those people who was reluctant to undergo this test.  In truth, I was very reluctant. 

This information was compiled and paraphrased from various sources and the following book:       

Multiple Sclerosis:

The Facts You Need

By:  Dr. Paul O’Connor

Compliments of:

Shared Solutions

1-800-263-0034

www.sharedsolutions.ca