You know how I've said: pain makes you selfish? You know how I've alluded to time and time and time again that pain is the ultimate revealer? That you know yourself, your horizons and your limits because of pain?
And that I had not yet found my limit? That I was near breaking one night, everything gone wrong, but managed to pull loose and fight to near normal?
Sunday at 10:00am, I realized something was deeply, badly wrong. That what I was feeling, pain-wise, was not what I was used to dealing with. That the waves of increased pain in my legs...both of them now in harmony...were coming in with a breathtaking intensity, something I'd never felt. Because in the past, pain so bad I blacked out made me hurt, made me suffer, but this pain made me weak. I couldn't move my legs.
I tried walking, and small steps were the best I could manage. I did not make it out of bed for any longer than it took to go to the bathroom or to take another handfull of pills.
Sunday morning at 10:00am, I looked over at my wife. I saw a future of this. I saw what my life was going to be like if I didn't get this fixed somehow. And I found my limit.
Sunday night, 9:00p
All day in bed, I know a lot of people in the universe have it worse, had it worse, have suffered, are suffering in ways I can't picture. But the constant waves of pain had me in desperate selfish pain management mode, and I'd tried everything. My TENS unit was maxed out, I was using stimulus that was more intense than I'd ever been able to stand, and it wasn't working. I did my exercises by the dozens, stretches and press ups and minor yoga moves. My back muscles so tight and spasming that I couldn't, can't bend over more than 10 degrees. I'd taken maximum safe doses of celebrex and I'd tripled by dose of hydrocodone. Nothing, nothing, if anything I was worse off.
I'd been in bed all day. Grunting with every breath, lamaze breathing (something one of my PTs had taught all of her patients), my abdominal muscles all fucked up from the hours and hours of tension. Add to this: my sinuses weren't functioning properly, so I couldn't breathe when I lay down, but I couldn't sit or stand for any length of time. Pitiful.
You have those moments.
You just open your arms up, and it's like relaxing. Like letting go. It's just....you just give up. You give up. You give in to every emotion that runs up, you punch walls and wail about "why me" and you scream and cry and no, it doesn't help and no, it's certainly not deserved in the Big Picture but at that moment it's like a dam bursting, it's like a typhoon and nothing will stop it. It's just giving in. You just give up.
No, it doesn't help. I don't feel any better afterwards. If anything my sinuses are more fucked up and some thrashing about caused a muscle, already tight and atrophied, to pull and sharpen the pain in my mid-back.
Monday morning, 3:00a
Neurontin and cymbalta help me sleep for a few hours. I wake up with burning crawling pins and needles, with no sensation in my right foot. Cold and numb. I get up, try to walk, drag my foot useless.
I finally hear back from two neurosurgeons at 10:00am. Both are new to me, and want to re-evaluate me and do imaging and anything else that could line their pockets. I tell them, look, I've done all of that, I can get my whole history forwarded to you and they say, fine. But we'll still need new films, maybe diskogram, maybe more EMGs and I'm hanging up on them. My current specialist is out, but is hopefully going to find me a surgeon tomorrow.
At this point I want someone to cut me open and pry out the bits that are doing this. At this point I can't recall the stupid foolish reaspons I'd decided to avoid surgery for this long. Should have done this months ago, should have broken months ago. Stupid pride, or fear or love of this edge? I don't know. It defines me right now. Maybe I need that definition?
And I don't care for consequences. If I am in more pain after surgery, I can take care of it myself, the whole thing, with an ice pick and some whiskey.
(Yeah, I talk all tough. Y'all know I'm not that stupid).
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