S.O.S. I need help from my Spark friends...
Monday, July 21, 2014
I'm struggling with such high pain since this second trip to the Mayo Clinic. I feel like I'm just enveloped in pain pain pain.
I'm used to sucking it up in my own way and trudging through it. But this pain is like a pool of molasses though, too thick.
One of my dearest Spark friends reminded me that I was not in this alone. That there are many who care about me, and would probably like to know that I'm in a painful place currently. She told me that it is in fact a strength to be willing to ask for help. And that's precisely what I needed to hear.
Because the encouraging words from others; the prayers, the hugs, even those good vibes, are all things that are so valuable right now. My reserves are low, and I am quite weepy lately.
I try to always look for the silver lining. More times than not, I regularly psych myself up to arm wrestle with any negativity that heads my way, threatening me. I try not to wallow or mope.
Have to find something, no matter how small, to be proud of every single day. I'm not doing that currently.
Going through diagnostic tests at the Mayo Clinic is not an easy thing to do. But it is necessary. It is important. It is what I am relying on to formulate my treatment, or even better, a cure. But it is pain-filled, and requires an extra helping of resillience and bravery. I feel tapped out!
I also had surgery this past Wednesday, and that is what is causing me the most pain currently. I was told that this biopsy [called a Sural nerve biopsy], was a fairly simple procedure, and one that the Mayo Clinic does literally every day. I would have a few stitches, some soreness, and heal well.
The surgery ended up being much more involved, and I am still unable to stand or put weight on that foot (5 days later). Being forced to use crutches when your disease already affects your limbs + nursing a biopsy on one hand makes movement more tricky.
I had to take the dressing off of my lower leg 48 hours after surgery, and that visual confirmed why I felt so much pain radiating from my left calf area.
I started counting the stitches. 1, 2, 3, 4... I stopped at 20 or so since my eyes just welled up with more tears.
I was informed this morning by my rheumatologist that special precautions were taken because my disease causes intense swelling in my limbs daily, and they did not want me to rip my stitches (as I had done recently).
My goodness, I'm so sorry to just go on whining about this! I'm really not myself I guess. I meant to just post a brief blog asking for your kind thoughts, good vibes. Perhaps a whispered prayer and well wishes if you wouldn't mind.
I am thankful to be home. I was supposed to still be at the Mayo Clinic this week, but the doctors agreed that I could go home early. I am trying to smile about that. Who wants to spend their 40th birthday at the hospital out-of-state? Oh yeah, tomorrow is my birthday. The big 40. I'm certainly not at the level of health that I had hoped to be at when I turned 40. But here I am nonetheless. I'm sure that's what is adding depth to some of this endless well of tears. Good grief!
It's just that I seem to be forgetting some of the critical positive behavior that had become daily habit to me (with MUCH practice, but still, a habit I tried to nurture). Perhaps because many areas of my mind seem to be overflowing with the pain in my body? Stealing my sleep, stifling my giggles, and rendering me sofa-bound for days now.
Thank you to my Spark friend for nudging me to remember the huge obstacles I have already overcome with this second trip from CA to Minnesota.
I kept my sanity on flights both to and from the Mayo Clinic. These were long and torturous flights for me, but I did it. Air pressure really does a number on a body that already deals with major swelling daily. So yes, there's that.
I made it through another week filled with multiple needle sticks, stitches, surgery (barfy general anesthesia, ugh), sutures, and the naseau side effects of medications.
Unfortunately my trip was also filled with frowns from so many of the doctors I saw, who told me that they wished they could do more. But shoot, they're trying. There are so many sick people who don't ever get a chance to go to the Mayo Clinic for their illnesses, and here I was on my second trip. Yes, I'm thankful for that.
Why does my spirit feel so squashed? I feel like my life is like those last few seconds of Warner Brothers cartoons from so many years ago, closing in until Bugs Bunny is just a tiny little dot. But for me the borders are pain on all sides, closing in.
I'm supposed to say that "I will get through this pain today" out loud, even if I don't completely believe it.
I will get through this pain today!
Am still in dire need of finding my smile. I'm trying, but I need your help!
Thank you for granting me the freedom to share my burden.