Retrospective

It was this time last year that I started to get horrible pain in my sacrum and coccyx, along with numbness and pain in both legs. I started freaking out, realizing that my microdiskectomy had failed. The pain got worse and worse, and I realized during my P-town trip that this would be the last August vacation I ever took with tolerable pain levels. From there things got worse - me missing work, not being able to sleep, the surgeon thinking I just needed a little acupuncture, the PCP thinking I needed an anti-depressant, me crying in front of my boss in pain one day, the boyfriend at the time not understanding why the sudden change in my behavior, and lastly the ER doctor who realized that something was seriously wrong and yelled at my PCP and surgeon and gave me vicodin. I realized never again would my life be "normal." The things I took for granted - being able to bend at the waist, sleeping through the night, scrubbing floors, moving furniture, yardwork, etc. - it was done. No more running, weightlifting, or rowing lessons. Biking - well, ok, as long as I didn't mind the pain in my coccyx flaring up for several hours. Sex became a form of torture. I lost 25 pounds in about 4 weeks due to the pain. Having to listen to everyone talk about my depression - rather than my new chronic pain condition and my failed laminectomy. Laying in bed and not being able to motivate myself to get up and do anything. Just thinking about everything I'd lost. Wondering whether I'd be able to keep my job and whether I'd be able to sit long enough to get through a movie. Not knowing how to deal with the pain. Going from active and strong to lethargic and weak. Having my skin start flaking everywhere due to my body being shaken up. Muscle tension galore and nerve pain in an array of spots. Crying in the bathroom at work from the pain. Fortunately, I was referred to a sympathetic pain doc who knew which treatment algorithms to run me through. Sadly enough, I have a neurostimulator today - but it's better than nothing. The meds helped a little, but never enough. I quickly realized which friends were helpful and which ones couldn't deal with suffering. I realized how far I was geographically from my family, not being able to make roadtrips anymore (too much time seated). Air travel became torture. Hot baths became my savior. Learning how to medicate for the occasion. Wondering if I was on the right meds and dosages.

I look back two summers ago and think about life then - going out to bars, dating, superficial interest in work, vacations, exploring things, etc. So frivolous and fun. Now those things are so in the past. Now I focus on getting enough sleep, pain management, balancing a job, and maintaining a little contact with friends. I'm bothered constantly by the unchangeability of my condition and everything I've lost. No one I know can relate to this, especially people my age. I wonder why this happened to me, why everyone else seems to have conditions from which they recover or that don't impact them to the degree this impacts me. My daily routine was totally disrupted. No more gym time, no more vacations that involve a lot of air travel unless I'm feeling sadistic. I can't imagine dating - my personal stuff takes up so much time. Maybe I'd have time for a cat, though. I bought a condo before everything went down the tubes. Sometimes I think about how I expected life to be here versus what it turned out to be. I spend so much time at home. It's a nice place to be, but I'd hoped to have been out more.

On the bright side, I rarely think about suicide anymore due to the pain.