Pain is my Savior

I guess you can say I’m the girl with the love – hate relationship with the big P.  It’s always been my guardian angel . . . a fucking messed up one, in my opinion. Oh, it’s saved me from being quadriplegic and actually, it saved me from a few potential deaths throughout my 26 years of life. Yes to no pain no gain! Yes to pain!  *fist bump in the air* “Can I get a high-five!”  *sigh, rolls eyes* I mean what else can I do without letting my emotions engulf me in anger, right?  What’s that saying, If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. . . see, that’s what I’m trying to do . . . mom *side glare*

I make jokes to make light of the situation.  That’s just me.  I do that to compensate.  It helps me to accept the inevitable. If it’s going to happen, I might as well make myself smile.

Pain is my trusted sidekick. It’s my wingman. The transparently gray toy sized figure with red horns on the top, a crooked golden halo, and a pair of white beautiful, blinding wings attached to the back, just perched up on one of my shoulders in charge of the pain I experience for the day.

It happened before my first surgery.  I dealt with this new pain for a year before discovering I was in a life threatening situation unless they fused C1 & C2 together. First surgery, I underwent.

It happened again before my second surgery. Constant pain, nothing seemed to help it, what’s wrong with me. . . still? The instrumentation they put in me during the first surgery began to show signs of erosion on the back of my skull, especially the right side.  I mean, you can literally see the indentation on the X-ray.  Second surgery, somewhat of a success . . . they couldn’t exactly fulfill my wishes to cut the nerves considering I could’ve had a stroke at age 22 due to too much scar tissue from surgery #1. If we kept the screws in my neck any longer, I’m pretty sure it definitely would’ve caused some major damage to the brain. No death and paralysis for me, nope, not this time ‘round.

And again, for a third time . . . This was no surgery. This had absolutely nothing to do with the pain in my neck for once.  It involved a pair of lungs and a blood clot.   Tiny blood clot stuck on the inner lining of my lung = PAIN.  And thanks to the pain, I didn’t have a sudden death if the blood clot was any larger blocking the blood stream from lung to heart. Huge blood clot = instant, you don’t see it comin’ DEATH.

So, there you have it.  Proof that pain is my best friend . . . my savior.

Pain outsmarted death single-handedly.  This isn’t how I was meant to leave Earth.  This isn’t exactly my path or end of the road.  I’m a fighter and I ain’t gonna give up that easily, I guess. I’m just living, but I don’t know what I am doing.  I don’t know what I’m good at, still. I can’t see the future.  But I know it’s not through some medical problem.  I believe I will die in old age, in sleep, at least that’s what I hope.  But seriously, I don’t want to die in pain, which is a little strange, now that I think about it, because I am literally living with pain and it’s a torturous feeling. Really, it is. So, I pray that God’s sense of humor doesn’t take it too far and lets me die in peace.

Think about it.  If it wasn’t for the pain, I could be paralyzed.  I could be dead.  But this residual damage?  It’s of the nerves, not motor functions. I can walk and move.  And I’m thankful. Because I don’t want to live life immobile.  Yes, my spinal cord will deteriorate rapidly compared to the best average candidate if I were healthy.  Living like a potato and stuck in a wheelchair frightens me as much as my mind failing me and I can see it in both grandmas, both with dementia and one whose bones already deteriorated to the point she is confined to wheelchair and bed.  I’m able to move, right now, that’s all that matters to me at the moment.  Because I’m aware.  I know what’s coming next if I don’t act as soon as I am able to.  We only have one life.  Am I going to sit back and watch it happen?  Or am I going to live life the best way I know how?  Although, it may not seem like it most of the time.  I am grateful for the life I have.  I’m grateful for the people in it.  I really wanna see what I do in the future.  For me. For my future husband. For my family. & for everyone in between. How can I, a single person, help others live up to their fullest potential?  How can I, a single person, take this pain, learn from it, and teach others?  How can I, a single person living in chronic pain, overcome inner battles and live my own life to my fullest potential?

For now, acceptance of chronic pain is key for me to start living a beautiful life.  Now, if only I knew how.  Let the journey begin.

rebeccanne