Pain goggles
When it comes, it sneaks up from behind and clobbers me without warning. The pain swoops up and descends, bringing down a blanket over my view. Everything, everything, is seen through the haze of pain. It's impossible to look around it, or over it. It mocks my attempts to ignore it by prickling my eyes with tears since apparently a metaphorical vision change simply isn't enough.
Routine daily activities like eating a granola bar for breakfast, either on the run or while waiting for the computer to boot up, become something for which I have to steel my nerves. I eye the bar warily, stomach growling, knowing that while I need to eat something for the medicine, the pain it will inflict makes me wonder if it's worth it. Oprah survived on a liquid diet for awhile, yes?
I don't know how people with chronic pain do this. I can't understand how someone just lives with it.
I consider myself to have a pretty high pain tolerance. I don't take pain medication for minor aches. I walked on a broken foot for five days before going to the doctor, for Pete's sake, and I only went out of a sense that perhaps something might be really wrong. The wrist cyst grew to enormous size before I even went to an ortho, and then it was close to a year before I caved and had surgery.
This pain, though, is a whole new world of pain. It's all-consuming. It dictates how I'm living my life. It's affecting my roles as mother, wife, employee, sister, aunt, etc.
I wanted to work on my niece's birthday invitation last night. I'm so excited to do this for her, and I have it all mapped out in my head. But I couldn't move from the couch, rigid in agony and praying for medicine to please please start working now. I couldn't think about anything else but the pain. I gave up Zoe for the evening (thank you to MIL and FIL for taking her with such short notice) because I couldn't give her the attention she deserves and I felt right on the edge of just losing my shit entirely in front of her.
When the pain subsides, and it does every now and then, I feel relief but not wholly. Because I'm too worried about when it will come again. Pain saunters away and leaves a lingering, "Yes, but..."
I feel ridiculous for even writing this. Like a huge, whiny baby. Like one of those people you avoid at work because a simple, "Hey, how are you?" turns into a litany of every minor corporeal disturbance. I don't want to be one of those people.
But ohmyGod, it's really, truly taking over my life.
Dentist today at 4:15. Hopefully that's the start of becoming normal again.
Routine daily activities like eating a granola bar for breakfast, either on the run or while waiting for the computer to boot up, become something for which I have to steel my nerves. I eye the bar warily, stomach growling, knowing that while I need to eat something for the medicine, the pain it will inflict makes me wonder if it's worth it. Oprah survived on a liquid diet for awhile, yes?
I don't know how people with chronic pain do this. I can't understand how someone just lives with it.
I consider myself to have a pretty high pain tolerance. I don't take pain medication for minor aches. I walked on a broken foot for five days before going to the doctor, for Pete's sake, and I only went out of a sense that perhaps something might be really wrong. The wrist cyst grew to enormous size before I even went to an ortho, and then it was close to a year before I caved and had surgery.
This pain, though, is a whole new world of pain. It's all-consuming. It dictates how I'm living my life. It's affecting my roles as mother, wife, employee, sister, aunt, etc.
I wanted to work on my niece's birthday invitation last night. I'm so excited to do this for her, and I have it all mapped out in my head. But I couldn't move from the couch, rigid in agony and praying for medicine to please please start working now. I couldn't think about anything else but the pain. I gave up Zoe for the evening (thank you to MIL and FIL for taking her with such short notice) because I couldn't give her the attention she deserves and I felt right on the edge of just losing my shit entirely in front of her.
When the pain subsides, and it does every now and then, I feel relief but not wholly. Because I'm too worried about when it will come again. Pain saunters away and leaves a lingering, "Yes, but..."
I feel ridiculous for even writing this. Like a huge, whiny baby. Like one of those people you avoid at work because a simple, "Hey, how are you?" turns into a litany of every minor corporeal disturbance. I don't want to be one of those people.
But ohmyGod, it's really, truly taking over my life.
Dentist today at 4:15. Hopefully that's the start of becoming normal again.
posted by Amy at 8:57 AM
1 Comments:
Feels like I'm doing nothing but posting comments to you today, but I really feel for you with your agonizing pain! I'm one of those that you write about, with chronic pains, and some days it surely takes my life to new (not very glorious) levels.. What I'm trying to say is that you learn to ignore it, you have to, not to go insane I guess. It's all about you controlling the pain, not the other way around... but it is truly exhausting. In a way, it has helped me not to muck about quite as much, but get on with it, get on with life, keeping mind busy with things to blur out the constant reminders of pain. Hopefully, in your case, the dentist will be your savior! :-)
Post a Comment
<< Home