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?
I’ll pray for you.
Thinking about you and hoping the surgery will relieve as much of the pain as it can.
I get the nausea thing. I’ve had it with back pain.
I’m sorry you are feeling this way. I’ll join Jill in praying for you.
I’m sorry to hear of your suffering. I hope you’re restored to feeling better soon.
I’m checking in from vacation and very, very sorry to see this. I am sending you some virtual hugs, which unlike physical ones can’t make the pain worse, I hope.
Katherine, I read this the other day and have been thinking about you ever since – I am so sorry you’re dealing with this pain. I have been dealing with “female issues” for years. I had a hysterectomy a few months ago (at the age of 36) and I am still having pain. The doctors aren’t sure why, so back I go for more tests. So, so frustrating. I refuse to take any more pain killers as I can see myself getting too addicted to them. It was hard enough to go off of them after my surgery.
I know something of what you’re going through, and I know what a toll it can take on your emotional health. I pray the surgery works for you.