Pain, Pain, Go Away

– Posted in: Blogging, Chronic Pain, Life is Dangerous, Personal Insanity

So two weeks ago, I was rear ended by a drunk driver (sorry — timeliness has never been one of my strong suits).

My poor little hybrid

Actually, she wasn’t a “drunk” driver. Turns out she was on a bunch of prescription drugs. Which makes more sense, seeing as it was 9:30 in the morning. As my husband says, you have to try really hard to be wasted and driving at 9:30 in the morning. But still, what the hell she was doing/thinking/not thinking is a mystery. And she’s pretty frickin’ lucky she didn’t kill anybody. At least in the literal sense. . .

Because now, I’m a disaster. I feel like people have been hitting me with baseball bats. I can’t seem to get my pain under control. I don’t sleep unless I take something to make me sleep. And yesterday when I got home from the chiropractor (which is basically where I spend half my life), I was actually lying on my bed considering the idea that death probably wasn’t going to come fast enough for me. That’s not so good.

The thing is, I’ve been dealing with chronic pain for seventeen years. And it’s had its ups and downs. Major downs, to be sure. I remember after my daughter was born and my atypical facial pain was completely out of control. I had to stop breast feeding her so we could try some anti-seizure meds to calm it down. But the meds made me feel like I was in a waking coma. I was so tired that I couldn’t do anything — even lie there and watch TV. But I was awake enough that I couldn’t sleep. It was mini-torture (I say “mini” because it still wasn’t Egyptian police station torture — let’s be fair). Watching the world go on around you and not being able to participate — holding the kids, having extended conversations, even doing dishes — is maddening. Oh, and still being in pain. Awesome.

But I finally figured out the right meds and the right amounts and got to the point of life being “doable.” The last few years, I’ve been relatively good. Good enough that I’ve even considered trying to make my other blog, World’s Worst Moms, an actual business. Which is amazing because I haven’t had a job of any kind since the ’90s.

And then I had my epiphany a couple of months ago that I’ve told everyone a shocking small amount about, given my excitement level — I want to start a doll company. I am so into this. I don’t think I’ve ever been able to see anything with so much clarity. It’s actually creepy.

And now. . . I’m feeling completely derailed. For almost twenty years, I’ve had to wake up and push through my day. Now I feel like I’m crawling on my hands and knees, clawing at it with bloody fingernails. Last night, I almost starting crying because it hurt so bad to stand at the sink and do dishes. I mean, come on. . .

I’m just scared shitless that this is going to be “it.” That we’ve used up all the magic tricks and there’s no where else to go. And I can. not. handle. that.

The thing is, I think I’ve been a pretty good little trooper. I think I’ve done pretty well with what life’s dealt me. I’ve really tried to not complain all the time and to make my kids’ lives as good as possible and to do as much stuff as I could whenever I could. So I just don’t know how much more I can buck up. I’m trying. But I just don’t know how much more I can buck up.

A friend of mine sent me an article about choosing a word at the beginning of the year to sort of carry you through whatever you’d like to achieve. I keep coming back to “believe.” Maybe because I have to believe that everything’s going to be okay. And that I’m somehow going to be able to find that thing inside me again that balanced out all the pain the last time. And that my dream isn’t even slightly close to dead because this too shall pass.

Because in the words of that creepy guy in Flash Dance (you know, the dancer’s boyfriend who was way too old for her and also her boss so really it was wrong on so many levels), “When you give up your dream, you die.”

As dismal as things are, checking out like that sounds like a truly terrible way to go.

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22 Comments… add one

Clara January 5, 2012, 10:07 pm

Oh, I cannot imagine, I am so sorry. I hope very much you can find something that will work this time, and give yourself room to grieve the loss of your relatively good health and functionality.

Kelly DeBIe January 6, 2012, 1:53 am

I hope you are feeling better soon!!!
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Andrea January 6, 2012, 2:00 am

You are a fighter AND a believer…that has to count for something! What a neat new vision to have for the doll company…best to you!
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Polly January 6, 2012, 2:20 am

I feel you, cuz. Not fair to have pain piled on top of pain. And sometimes the worst is, you LOOK fine, so people think you're just a whiner. Thank God the woman wasn't even more impaired. I DO know, though, that "it could have been worse" really doesn't make it better.
I am BELIEVING for you, and I can see you on QVC hawking those dolls! Hang in there. We love you.

not blessed mama January 6, 2012, 2:21 am

oh my dear. i'm heartbroken for you. i sincerely hope you get better soon. i've had to deal with bouts of chronic pain (none lasting more than 6 months), and it truly makes life unbearable. and the guilt when you have kids= devastating. i'm so sorry.
i thought of a new joke, and i've been saving it for you. how do you know 2 zombies like each other? they kiss each other on their zombie apocaLIPS.

Sweaty January 6, 2012, 3:59 am

I'm so, sorry that you're in such pain, dear friend. Here's hoping for a speedy recovery for you. I know how debilitating living with chronic pain can be, and how depressing. But I have every faith that you'll get to where you've set your goals to. You're one tough cookie. Sending you lots of prayers and warm hugs!
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Susanne January 6, 2012, 4:52 am

Oh, man. I am so very sorry. I know we don't see you often, but if there is something we can do, please, please let us know. *hugs*
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The Lucky Mom January 6, 2012, 3:51 pm

I'm so sorry. I'm hoping there's a solution for you. 🙂

mamaspeak January 7, 2012, 12:19 am

I wrote this post, last year, or maybe the year before, I'm not sure. Anyway, instead of car accident, mine was ruptured disc from carrying tantrum-y child to car in high heels. (I know, I need to come up w/something more spectacular like paragliding in the Swiss Alps…which, BTW, I've done & was FINE.) Anywho, once I hurt my back like that, I was a mess. I THOUGHT I knew what being a mess was, bc of my my Fibro. Karma came & kicked my arce to show me I didn't know what I was talking about. I was just telling a friend yesterday, (she broke her foot & recovery has been unbelievably slow,) that while my surgery was 3 years ago, I can say that I'm still recovering. That sounds weird, bc "HE-LOOOO! after 3 years?" But I can say on a week by week basis I am still getting better. I'm no where near where I'd like to be. I'm still terrified to do things that I think will make me hurt worse. But I'm still doing more and more every week. If you had asked me 6 months after my surgery, I'm pretty sure I would've referred them to what is written here. So, I guess the good news is, that while it's unbelievably slow, I am getting better. AND, the big news is that I haven't stopped improving. I found that I need to really listen to my body; if it hurts too much to wash the dishes, then don't do it. For a long time I would hit my wall at 2/3 (right when the kids get home.) I finally started laying down while they were at school, instead of trying to get things done. My crash time pushed out after that. I've noticed, that lately, my crash time is after dinner. (There was a long period where it was during dinner.) When you have chronic pain, you CAN'T push through. Pick the parts that are most important & focus on those. No one ever wished they'd done more dishes while on their deathbed.
This was a very long way of saying: listen to your body. Take your pain pills if they help you. (Take them b4 you get too bad, so you won't have to take as much.) There is a light at the end of this tunnel. You just have to celebrate the small victories (and they can be really microscopic sometimes.) And pick the things that really matter. (((hugs)))
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Verity January 7, 2012, 4:14 am

I will come over and wash dishes. Or whatever. Just call me….
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PartlySunny January 7, 2012, 6:10 am

Thanks Clara. It's funny (not funny, but you know) that you use the word "grieve" because I think that's part of my problem. I really need to let go of expectations. Life is so much harder with expectations.

PartlySunny January 7, 2012, 6:16 am

Thanks my friend.:)

PartlySunny January 7, 2012, 6:24 am

Thanks Andrea. I really, really hope you get to see what it all looks like someday!

PartlySunny January 7, 2012, 6:26 am

Thanks cuz. I know you know exactly what I mean.

PartlySunny January 7, 2012, 6:31 am

You're the best. That actually made me laugh out loud (which is really saying something right now).

PartlySunny January 7, 2012, 6:36 am

Thanks Sweaty. It helps a lot to have you guys out there telling me I'm tough.:)

PartlySunny January 7, 2012, 6:43 am

Thanks Susanne. Careful. I might call you, demanding that you bring over a casserole.

PartlySunny January 7, 2012, 6:43 am

Thanks Lucky Mom. You and me both!

PartlySunny January 7, 2012, 6:52 am

Okay, you clearly understand this so well that it's making me cry. I'm sorry and (sorry about this) happy we're in the same boat. Thank you, thank you for taking the time to write so much to me. You have no idea what this meant.

PartlySunny January 7, 2012, 6:54 am

I know.:) xo

J. Sacramento January 8, 2012, 6:49 am

Crap… I'm so sorry Sunny. :(. I love you so much and I hate that this is the road in front of you.

Wombat Central January 10, 2012, 3:27 pm

I'm so sorry to hear about your pain! I hope you DO accept help from those around you who can do things to lighten your load. Thinking good thoughts for you….
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