Tag: chronic condition

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pain and suffering

As someone who has their hands on a keyboard approximately 12 to 14 hours per day, it is unsurprising that I have chronic pain issues in my arms/hands.  Some days it is barely noticeable among the cacophony of other pain issues in my body. Other days, like today, it becomes a screaming symphony that demands to be heard.

It started as neck pain yesterday, all around that pinched nerve.  Moved into the shoulder through the night.  By this morning, my shoulder, elbow and wrist were crying…and of course, I can’t find a single wrist brace anywhere!  I only own about five of them, but none of them are where I can put my hands on them.

It also seriously cuts into my ability to write or edit.  A lot.  Typing isn’t as bad on this Kinesis keyboard, but using the mouse is tear inducing.

Needless to say, this drives me to want to spend my day away from the keyboard and mouse.  Well, not really.  What I want is to be pain free enough to get my work done, but barring that, the next best thing is to take my hands off the things that hurt them.

Maybe if I listen to my body today, it will let me work tomorrow.

 

Photo by Mat Reding on Unsplash

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taken a-back

There is this moment, just as I am waking up, but before I’ve moved or opened my eyes.  In that moment, nothing hurts, at least not above my baseline.  I try to hold on to that moment, because I know that soon, I’ll have to move, have to sit up and put my feet on the floor, and then the pain will come.

I sometimes joke that if I ever woke up not in pain, I’d assume I died through the night.  I’ve had chronic pain conditions most of my adult life, and I’ve developed new ones as I’ve gotten older.

Most days I can be functional with a few coping mechanisms, some gentle stretching and my meds for nerve pain.  I’m fortunate to not need anything in the opioid category for pain relief.

This morning, as I slowly became conscious and I hung there in that glorious moment when nothing hurt, I wondered what it would be like to be there all the time, to have my body back.  I’ll probably never know.  I just adjust to the new normal each time something new comes to claim my body for its home.

This week has been rough for pain levels.  My lower back, and in turn my legs, have been extra loud in the symphony and have required I do some babying and icing.  They seem to be somewhat better today, though my whole back is a hair above what I call “normal.”

That’s okay though.  Today is a writing day, and aside from getting some laundry done, I have no other plans.  Just me, some Death Wish Coffee and one of the two stories I’m currently working on.

What about you, Reader?  What’s on your plate today?

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skewed and chronic

Hello, my name is Natalie, and I live with chronic pain.  To be fair, I live with several chronic conditions, and pain is only one of them.  Recently, I’ve come to realized how skewed my pool of friends, loved ones and associates is toward those who share this living situation.

I’ve only been in the job I currently have for just shy of two years.  It’s the first job in a while where a fair number of my coworkers are as much as twenty years younger than I am, which doesn’t necessarily protect them from chronic pain, it just makes it less likely to have encountered it.

Several times in the last week or so, a coworker has asked me if I was “all better now” and I wasn’t sure how to answer them.  I am definitely better than I was in October when I got sidelined by the flare up of a pinched nerve, or better than I was in January when I had a cold, a sinus infection, a chest infection, etc, which knocked my sugar out of whack.

One coworker said, “You haven’t complained about X in a while, so you must not be in pain anymore.”

I laughed (you know, that laugh of the “have you met me?” variety) and joked that if I were ever not in some pain, I would assume I was dead.  He was baffled and horrified.  I tried to explain that my lower back, my knee, my wrists, elbows and shoulders, and my neck where all victims of various chronic conditions, which meant they would be calm for a while, but then something would cause them to flare up…that they were never gone, and that at any given moment, I am in pain somewhere.  That my normal status is this certain level of pain, which I can tolerate and function with.

He made this face, the kind people make when you tell them you’re ill.  I see it a lot.  But the thing is, they don’t comprehend that I’m not complaining, I’m not upset…I’m not asking for sympathy and I don’t need them to do anything.

I get it from others too.  This weird look, like a scared sympathetic, please god not me sort of thing that irritates me.  And even when I explain what these chronic conditions mean, that they will never be gone, the next time I come in limping because my lower back has decided to send an invading nerve impulse through my hip and into my leg, or I’m favoring my right arm, or what have you, they will act all surprised again and want to know what I’ve done to injure myself now.

But, you know what?  For all my aches and pains, I am a pretty happy person and I have a pretty amazing life.  I certainly wouldn’t trade any of my experiences for anything.  And now, it’s time for a second cup of coffee and to get this work day on it’s feet.

Happy Wednesday, Readers!

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let’s talk agoraphobia

Happy Friday, Readers!  It’s a wet, wet day here in San Francisco, but I’m safely in the office and the coffee is hot!

I thought I’d take a minute today and talk about one of the “issues” I battle everyday.  See, I’m an agoraphobic.  Taken literally, the translation from the greek means “fear of the marketplace” but since the world has evolved, so has this monster.

Agoraphobia can be seen as a spectrum of sorts, and people with agoraphobia can have intense fear, anxiety and even panic that keeps them from living their life the way they want to.

At its worst, agoraphobia can make a person housebound, unable to leave the safety of their home because of the fear.  Some are unable to move outside a specified “safety zone” without someone there to help them.

Psychology Today has a good article here.

Thankfully, mine is not that bad, though having people with me who know how to spot my panic attacks starting and how to help me through them is a blessing. I still manage to get my own groceries, I go to work (most days), and I travel.

But, every one of these things can induce anything from minor anxiety to heart stopping panic.  There are days I won’t even open my front door.  Days where just going to get the mail is a major achievement.  There are days when I think nothing of getting in the car and heading out into the unknown though too.

Like any other chronic condition, it is a constant part of who I am, but its severity and my ability to fight it change all the time, and because I also live with chronic pain, it can also affect and be affected by the levels of pain I am in.

On bad pain days, I spend all my energy battling pain, and I have nothing left to fight the phobia, so I generally stay within my safety space.  On days when the phobia is running high and I know I have to go out into the world anyway, there’s seldom anything left to manage my pain.

It can be a vicious circle.

I’ve come to terms with this being a part of who I am, and I have mental coping mechanisms that help me handle crowds, unknown spaces, etc.  Crowds are hard. Crowds require days of mental prep and days of hibernating after.  Sometimes they require pharmaceutical help.  I take a very low dose of Xanax when needed.

Yet, I go to concerts and conventions and conferences.  I get on trains that I know are going to be standing room only long before I get home.  It’s terrifying and it’s exhausting and if you asked most people around me they’d tell you that they had no idea I was terrified because I’ve learned to hide it.

Why?  Because I’m a stubborn bitch that refuses to let my misfiring brain keep me from things and people I love.  At least, not all the time.  Maybe someday, when I’m a doddering eighty year old writer with a library of books in my quiver, I can become a recluse, and eccentric cat lady who never goes out and never lets anyone in, other than my young, gorgeous assistant/nurse who makes sure I eat and take my meds.

So today, I won the battle, despite the rain and the messy commute and the people.  I’m at my desk and now my cup of coffee is empty, so it’s time to go search for more.

May your weekend be amazing!