Very long weekend
My wife's long weekend was this one, and on her long weekends, we always get her two youngest kids. There's been a lot of stress with them and her ex, and I really wasn't looking forward to this weekend. Since I really didn't want to be trapped in the house with them (I just don't have the spoons), I suggested that we pack up the clan and go visit her parents. So that's what we did.
We picked them up from school on Friday. That night I couldn't get any sleep. I was stressed to the max, and that combined with the ever constant pain, kept me awake until about 3 in the morning. Then at 10 we left for the three hour drive down. I had decided to cook dinner that night because I wanted to "put on a good show" for the in-laws. I ended up making my chimichangas. It's a relatively easy dish to prepare, but takes about two hours to make due to all the prep work and such. The dinner went over well, but that left me with a pain scale of ten. I couldn't even finish sitting at the dinner table with everyone. I apologised and got up. The guest bedroom was down stairs and I was in so much pain that I could not go down them. I ended up getting my wife and I had to lean on her all the way down. Once there, I couldn't even lay straight on the bed, and I was in so much pain that tears were being forced from my eyes. I wasn't sad or anything, just hurting a lot. I can't describe the difference between tears from emotions and tears that are simply forced out by pain. They are simply there.
Her mom ended up letting my wife use their hand massager, which is awesome, and after about 40 minutes, the pain started to ease. I was able to hobble about with my cane for the rest of the evening.
The night was very long, however, as their bed is as hard as a rock. No matter what way I was lying, I was just in a lot of pain. And thanks to the earlier day's events, my nerves were already "wide awake." It's not fun when you can feel every inch of your spine. Well, after an eternity I finally got up.We ended up staying until 2:30 and then headed out. I spent the rest of the weekend using my cane. I use it not because I have trouble walking, but because it's a lot easier on my back if I put my weight on in instead of trying to hold myself up normally. It's hard to describe, but it gives my back a rest.The way all the pain happened was that once I started hurting, my muscles automatically contracted, which pushed my vertebrae closer which caused more pain, which caused my muscles to contract even more... it's a vicious cycle. My back was as hard as a rock.The drive home was rather long. Instead of the three hours or so, it took closer to five thanks to the stops we made along the way. We finally made it home around 7:30 and I just couldn't take much more of anything. The kids were getting on my nerves but I just grunted and made it through with one of those fake "Oh I'm fine" smiles on my face.Everything is so much harder when you are dealing with chronic pain all the time. A simple drive down and back just kill you. Cooking a dinner ruins your whole day. I feel like I've run a marathon, and am patting myself on the back for what seems like the "heroic" effort I put into everything. I did good keeping a generally positive attitude, and I did my best to not let people really know what's going on.
That's the other thing when dealing with this illness - the isolation. You will be surrounded with people, even loved ones, and feel utterly alone. No one really appreciates the pain and misery I endure for them. I don't mean that in a bad way. They aren't rude and unloving towards me. And they really do try to understand. But the appreciation I mean is the type where they really understand what you're enduring. And you can't let them in because you have to constantly keep a positive and upbeat attitude for them. I was with my wife's kids, and around her parents, and the last thing I was going to do was be a grumpy fella. This was literally one of the most painful and exhausting weekends in recent memory.
But I survived. I got through it. I kept going until my body literally shut down. I kept a smile on my face even though on the inside I was screaming in agony and just wanting to give up. I made it.
It's going to take a while for me to recover, but I will. I have to. I have no other choice. It appears that I am going to be like this the rest of my life and very slowly over time (at a snail's pace), I'm coming to acceptance. I'm fighting and screaming about it all the time, but it's starting to sink in. That doesn't mean that I'm going to give up trying to get healthier, but it does mean that I'm acknowledging that this is probably going to be the way it is until death claims me.
Every day I am eagerly anticipating the blessed home of my perfect and eternal body just waiting for me. It's been so long that I don't even remember what it feels like to be pain free. So I look forward to that with great anticipation. For me as a Christian, that is what keeps me going - my redemption. My heart breaks for those who don't have that hope. I can't imagine going through this without it.
We picked them up from school on Friday. That night I couldn't get any sleep. I was stressed to the max, and that combined with the ever constant pain, kept me awake until about 3 in the morning. Then at 10 we left for the three hour drive down. I had decided to cook dinner that night because I wanted to "put on a good show" for the in-laws. I ended up making my chimichangas. It's a relatively easy dish to prepare, but takes about two hours to make due to all the prep work and such. The dinner went over well, but that left me with a pain scale of ten. I couldn't even finish sitting at the dinner table with everyone. I apologised and got up. The guest bedroom was down stairs and I was in so much pain that I could not go down them. I ended up getting my wife and I had to lean on her all the way down. Once there, I couldn't even lay straight on the bed, and I was in so much pain that tears were being forced from my eyes. I wasn't sad or anything, just hurting a lot. I can't describe the difference between tears from emotions and tears that are simply forced out by pain. They are simply there.
Her mom ended up letting my wife use their hand massager, which is awesome, and after about 40 minutes, the pain started to ease. I was able to hobble about with my cane for the rest of the evening.
The night was very long, however, as their bed is as hard as a rock. No matter what way I was lying, I was just in a lot of pain. And thanks to the earlier day's events, my nerves were already "wide awake." It's not fun when you can feel every inch of your spine. Well, after an eternity I finally got up.We ended up staying until 2:30 and then headed out. I spent the rest of the weekend using my cane. I use it not because I have trouble walking, but because it's a lot easier on my back if I put my weight on in instead of trying to hold myself up normally. It's hard to describe, but it gives my back a rest.The way all the pain happened was that once I started hurting, my muscles automatically contracted, which pushed my vertebrae closer which caused more pain, which caused my muscles to contract even more... it's a vicious cycle. My back was as hard as a rock.The drive home was rather long. Instead of the three hours or so, it took closer to five thanks to the stops we made along the way. We finally made it home around 7:30 and I just couldn't take much more of anything. The kids were getting on my nerves but I just grunted and made it through with one of those fake "Oh I'm fine" smiles on my face.Everything is so much harder when you are dealing with chronic pain all the time. A simple drive down and back just kill you. Cooking a dinner ruins your whole day. I feel like I've run a marathon, and am patting myself on the back for what seems like the "heroic" effort I put into everything. I did good keeping a generally positive attitude, and I did my best to not let people really know what's going on.
That's the other thing when dealing with this illness - the isolation. You will be surrounded with people, even loved ones, and feel utterly alone. No one really appreciates the pain and misery I endure for them. I don't mean that in a bad way. They aren't rude and unloving towards me. And they really do try to understand. But the appreciation I mean is the type where they really understand what you're enduring. And you can't let them in because you have to constantly keep a positive and upbeat attitude for them. I was with my wife's kids, and around her parents, and the last thing I was going to do was be a grumpy fella. This was literally one of the most painful and exhausting weekends in recent memory.
But I survived. I got through it. I kept going until my body literally shut down. I kept a smile on my face even though on the inside I was screaming in agony and just wanting to give up. I made it.
It's going to take a while for me to recover, but I will. I have to. I have no other choice. It appears that I am going to be like this the rest of my life and very slowly over time (at a snail's pace), I'm coming to acceptance. I'm fighting and screaming about it all the time, but it's starting to sink in. That doesn't mean that I'm going to give up trying to get healthier, but it does mean that I'm acknowledging that this is probably going to be the way it is until death claims me.
Every day I am eagerly anticipating the blessed home of my perfect and eternal body just waiting for me. It's been so long that I don't even remember what it feels like to be pain free. So I look forward to that with great anticipation. For me as a Christian, that is what keeps me going - my redemption. My heart breaks for those who don't have that hope. I can't imagine going through this without it.
Replies
Wow. What a powerful journal E. I\'m sitting here crying FOR you.. and for me as I sit here typing in horrible pain that just won\'t ease but get worse as the day goes on. You said it\'s not about me comparing my pain to yours, but it\'s hard for me not to when I read what all you went through over the weekend and the horrific pain you endured while keeping that \' smile\' on your face. We wear a mask don\'t we? My husband and kids and family and friends are sympathetic and supportive and saddened that I\'m in pain. I once was reading something about people having \' empathy\' for others. I always claimed that I was the type of person who has empathy for others. There was a discussion about the difference between \' Sympathy \' and \'Empathy\'. What I learned is that true EMPATHY comes only from being in another\'s shoes and LIVING what they have. Whether it be grief of losing a loved one, a pet, a serious illness such as cancer, and in our case chronic pain. We can have sympathy and compassion for the things we haven\'t experienced and I feel like I do and I know that you do. Empathy is different. What I would give if neither of us had to feel empathy towards each other for the chronic pain we have. I too am learning to accept that this is my life and it\'s going to get worse. Discs don\'t regenerate as we age. Arthritis advances, it doesn\'t regress. Add the fact that we can\'t get the pain medication we both NEED and deserve to have so that we can have SOME RELIEF is outrageous and infuriating.. not to mention depressing. You are an inspiration to me with your attitude to persevere and to not give up on trying to get healthier. My prayer for you is that you WILL find the doctor or doctors who will find a concrete diagnosis and will find a treatment for you and you won\'t be destined to a life of pain. I pray that so hard. God Bless you.
Hugs hugs~
Gaye
You are quite good at describing the horror that chronic pain is. I am so sorry for your suffering. I almost felt as if you were describing my weekend at the science fair. At one point Sat. evening someone went to hand me my Daughter\'s display board { very light, made of foam } and when I raised my arms to grab it those tears of pain forced themselves out of my eyes as the spasms in my neck and back dug their nails in in protest. I spent much of the weekend in the hotel in bed with my ice pack. The isolation and loneliness is hard, too. I like what LMT says about empathy above. These are the times when a pain pill would be appropriate for you. It gives you a little freedom and let\'s you do some things you might not normaly be able to do. I think it would be a good idea for you to start a pain journal, a daily record of your pain scale. When you finally do get an appointment with the right Dr. he/she will want to see this. If they see a patient who consistantly has pain over a 5, they should hopefully consider you as \" needs intervention.\" The right Dr. should want to manage your pain even before a diagnosis is made. It is truly awful that this is so hard to find! Please keep looking and have faith!
Hugs
Anna
Hi LMT and Anna, I\'m so sorry for the late responses. I don\'t have many opportunities to write, and I stay \"logged in\" here just because my web browser just siter here, but I\'m not always at my computer. I don\'t want you two thinking that I\'m ignoring you!
LMT - I\'m so sorry I made you cry. Please, I\'m not worth crying over :) Pain is pain, regardless of what it is. It simply hurts. And yes, I agree with you, I wish none of us were able to empathize with each other, and I wish we couldn\'t with anyone else. I wish no one would be in pain. But on the other hand, it can also be a gift, in a way. We are able to support each other and be there for each other because we really do understand what its like - we all live it every single moment. thank you for being there for me, and I hope I can be there for you as well! *hug*
Anna, I\'m so sorry you had to go through a rough weekend. Your description about the pain where it was nails being dug in.. that\'s a wonderful analogy. That\'s how it feels, and I guess the best way we could ever get it across to someone else who hasn\'t a clue. I love the idea of doing a pain journal. I\'ll start one up. At least I\'ll have something to show to a doctor. As for them being empathetic enough to actually care, well to be honest, I\'ve given up hope that there actually are doctors like that anymore. I\'m just going to give this doctor one more try, and well, if he\'s a flake... I know I shouldn\'t give up, but I\'m really getting tired of having my hopes dashed. Oh well.