I have stolen this blog title from Newscoma, who is the one with whom it originated. And I don’t mind if everyone skips over these words but this is one of those times when “writing makes it feel better” and so I am. And so.
The pain is so crippling right now. Crippling is a word that I use a lot but don’t often use literally. Today I’m using it literally. Anything, anywhere I go, anything I do is shadowed by the looming figure of pain. Even sitting still the pain is so bad that I am having to fight nausea. Those who have been in chronic pain know that is not a figurative statement. Your body hurts so bad that its normal functions–like digestion–just stop.
And this is on pain meds. Without the tramadol I think I would have simply passed out quite awhile ago. The tramadol has me mobile enough to take care of the daily functions of the house like feeding and yarding dogs, running a load of laundry, using the bathroom like a grownup and not wetting the bed.
I’m so used to pain that I often don’t notice it. It’s only days like these where it impedes my movement that I even see it there. I feel it always, but I don’t often SEE it. I’m due for a surgery and may be having it as soon as next week. We’ll know on Friday, once I have my consultation with the gynecologist. This is one of those surgeries that you think maybe you shouldn’t have. I need it to reduce the adhesions from the endo and to laser off the adhesions from the last surgery. Yep. You read that right. The surgery that helps also harms, and that harm is harming me too much to ignore right now.
I’ve been accused more than once of being a hypochondriac, and how I WISH that were true! How I would love to have all of this be some sort of mental blip that I could overcome. The evidence is starting to be external as well. I don’t know if I’ll welcome the day I no longer hear the dreaded “But You Don’t Look Sick!” I used to think so. But now as my fingers are starting to twist I’m rethinking that plan.
At least the fingers don’t hurt so bad right now. It’s just the abdomen and the hips and the sac joint. Just. Like having a black hole of pain starting at my belly button and stopping just above my knees. I’d ask “why me” but I know better. If I ask “why me” for the pain I’d be obliged to ask “why me” for the grace and the love and they all have the same answer. Why NOT me?