I feel more depressed right now than I have in ages. Things
were going so well with the exercising and eating right. Of course, we started
eating better months ago, and that won’t change. By the end of the week of
exercise my nerves were in high-gear, and my pain was in places I never knew
you could feel pain in. The other morning I woke up to a bucket of pain I was
not prepared for. I should have been prepared, though.
A few years ago I decided to start exercising and ended up with
enormous back pain, and calves that felt like they were being clawed through. I
found out that on top of my scoliosis I have arthritis in my spine, two spots
of stenosis, and four discs that are protruding and bulging.
The pain my legs is mostly due to the nerves being cut off
and pinched from the discs, but the surgeon I was seeing before losing my
insurance thought there was more to it than that. I have chronic muscle tension
in my calves, and he was going to run some test to see why I felt like I had no
circulation from the knees down.
Shortly after I lost my insurance I found out I have high blood
pressure, and have been forced for months to just deal with it without
medication. I was finally able to get through to someone regarding the
insurance, and was told I should be able to get it back, but need to come up
there with my ID. Well, my ID has two different last names on it, and to change
it I needed my marriage license. I searched for weeks and could not find it.
A few months ago, when I got out of a shower I hit the floor
hysterical and had to be taken to the hospital. They determined after multiple
tests I must have pulled a muscle or pinched a nerve. Well that makes sense
seems how all my pain is nerve and muscle pain, I guess. The being stabbed
repeatedly in my back feeling has not gone away. It feels like someone is
jabbing a knife over and again into my left lung. Some days are worse than
others like with all the other pain.
Right after that my ankles began giving me a lot of trouble.
The most frustrating part about it all is that I could work through the legs
and back. I could climb ladders and paint an entire room in a night just a few
months ago. I can’t do that now. I can barely grip a cup in my hand without
feeling I am going to drop it, and my ankles won’t allow the climbing even
momentarily.
The other morning I woke up to my arms just giving me hell.
My left one is definitely worse. In fact, all the pain I have is worse on the
left side. My biceps feel bruised, as if someone repeatedly punched me in them.
The pain travels down my outer elbow, through both sides of my forearms, and
into my wrists and fingers. I can type so fast but I have to peck and pause now
because it hurts so much.
I ended up in the hospital again. The doctor looked over all
my past records and asked me if I’d ever been worked up for auto immune
disease. I was taken aback and told her no. She asked me if anyone in my family
has auto immune disease, and I told her about my sister, who has like five of
them on top of each other. I already felt so much empathy for my sister, and
have been inspired by her fight often, but this inability to do things I once
could has given me a whole new appreciation. It’s terrifying and debilitating.
I want a bright future. We’ve come so far to fail now. Dan
and I both are in constant pain; similar in nature. It drastically takes away
from the quality of life. We’re both depressed because there is so much we want
to do that we simply cannot do. I am scared because I am supposed to start
using my degrees and begin a career, but I can’t even do my fucking dishes or
sweep my floors.
Thanks to my amazing cousin I was able to go down today and
get a copy of our marriage license, take it to secretary of state and have my
ID fixed. When it comes in the mail I will be able to get insurance again, and
so will my husband. Here’s to hoping that if they can’t heal the nerve damage
we’re dealing with they can at least make it more tolerable for us. We’re only
in our thirties. I can’t imagine our sixties at this rate.
I want to be there for my kids. To be able to run with them,
play with them, and make memories that other parents do with their children,
but I can’t. Instead, my daughters held plates while I piled food on them tonight
because my arms would not allow the weight. My husband had to fit the sheet to
the bed because my arms would not allow the downward motion, and he fixed the
pillows because I couldn’t even lift those.
I keep trying and crying. I tried to move Jasmyne’s keyboard
off her bed, and instant pain and tears sprung forth. Adriana had to remove it.
I tried to carry a gallon of milk home from the corner store and shifted it
hand to hand because the pain was horrid, and I swore I was going to drop it. I
tried to wash dishes and my grip is so bad that I didn’t dare pick up the glass
dishes. I wake up with fingers that cannot fist, and just to touch me I want to
scream out in obscenities. It never used to hurt when people touched me. It
does now.
Every night my Jayde comes and hugs me from behind before going
to bed. It’s never been an issue. The last two nights I’ve had to tell her not
to lean on my shoulders. I don’t want to live like this. I don’t want to tell
my kids they can’t touch me god dammit. I am so fucking pissed off.
