Tag Archives: chronic pain management

Off My Mind: Things I am Not Going to Worry About

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Lately I’ve been worrying so much that I barely have time for anything else, in my head at least. The other day I realized that I just need to stop worrying… so I did. This is unprecedented in Liz history. The worries are still there, of course, but they no longer threaten to suck me dry. I no longer feel like I’m going to break into little pieces. I still need to purge my system, though, and get these worries off my mind.

I am not going to worry about money anymore. My paycheck every Friday isn’t that great — I work fifteen hours a week and earn minimum wage — and it may be tight every week, but I’m okay. It’ll be even less tight after next Friday, when I pay off the last bill in the stack of bills that I need to catch up on. Hell, I’m even managing to save a little bit of money every week. I’ve gotten damn good at budgeting. Clearly I am wife material.

I am not going to worry that every family member’s health problem is a death sentence anymore. Well okay, that’s probably impossible to stop doing, but I’m going to try. My aunt had her biopsy on the 21st, and the other lady in my life who needs a mammogram has yet to make an appointment, so either way it’s all out of my hands. Worrying is not going to help anything. It’s just going to make me feel sick.

I am not going to worry about my own health problems. Currently I’m in remission, meaning I have little to no symptoms. This could all change tomorrow, but I’m not going to worry about that. I’m actually feeling quite positive about this year’s New York Comic Con; last year, I hurt for days after, but this year I’m less soft because I work in retail again and I’m used to being on my feet for hours. By October 15th, I’ll be a pro. I’m not going to let my pain ruin that day for me.

I’m also not going to worry about my lack of a diagnosis. It’s got to be a good thing that they haven’t found anything, because maybe that means this will go away. Maybe it’s just some weird aftereffect of the mono I had, maybe it’s just the mono working its way out of my system all these years later. I don’t know. I caught a segment of some Mystery Diagnosis-ish show last night and the woman’s symptoms were almost to the T mine; I could have written that part of the episode. She ended up being diagnosed with Scleroderma, an autoimmune disease where the body doesn’t produce enough of the collagen protein and the body attacks its own skin cells and other tissues. It’s a rare disease marked by joint pain, fatigue, Raynaud’s Syndrome, and GI issues. It sounds pretty close to mine, and maybe it’s not mine, but once I get back on my feet and can afford another doctor’s appointment, I’m going to have Pam check my collagen levels in my next blood workup. It gives me something else to go on and something else to cross of the long list of Things That are Not Wrong with Me if the test comes back negative… but I’m not going to let it get to me.

And while we’re still on the health subject, I am so going to stop worrying about my Mirena IUD. When they first told me it could potentially poke through my uterus and cause DOOM, I didn’t worry about it. But ever since I missed my followup because I couldn’t afford the copay, I’ve been freaking out at the slightest bit of pressure in my lower abdomen. Logic tells me I would definitely know if the thing poked through my wall because I’d be in screaming pain and bleeding like a stuck pig or something, but my imagination (as we know) runs rampant and tells me that I am bleeding internally and am going to die. If you’ve ever thought I might be crazy, you now may be convinced that I am completely insane. I’m not apologizing for my imagination. It helps me write stories. :P

I am not going to worry about what I want to do for the rest of my life. I had this problem. I wanted to do everything and couldn’t pick one thing to do forever. A week ago, I realized that I don’t have to pick one thing. A career should be something you enjoy, that you want to get paid for. It shouldn’t be a life sentence. At least, not for me. I am not a “pick one thing and do it forever” kind of person. The only thing I do forever is love someone. I have many interests, all of which wax and wane. It keeps my life interesting and keeps me learning. I can already tell that I’m going to be one of those seventy-year-olds embarking on a new career, because I am always embarking on a new interest, and have already had a successful career.

Part of me wanted to be an editorial assistant, part of me wanted to be a teacher, and part of me wanted to be a surgeon. I can’t do it all at once, and I accept that. I tried to pick one thing to do forever and I couldn’t convince myself that it was okay, so when I realized that I didn’t have to choose, I felt a huge weight come off me. All I had to do was choose which one I wanted to do next. As much as I’d love to be an editorial assistant, it’s not realistic for what I want in my life right now. I’d have to go to school for another two to three years, work the retail job I have now, and then when I finished I’d have to find a job in the field… which would not be easy. I want to work as an editor for a publishing company and read people’s novels and short stories. Those jobs are very, very hard to come by, partly because of the economy, and partly because of the changing landscape of publishing. It doesn’t mean that it would be impossible. It just wouldn’t be easy.

So instead, I’ve decided to chase my other dream for now and come back to that one later: being a teacher. I’ve decided that I’d rather work as a preschool teacher because, as much as I love all kids, that age group is my favorite. And, in Connecticut, you can become a preschool teacher with either an A.S. in Early Childhood Education or your CDA certification. I’ve also heard that many preschool and Head Start programs will hire a teacher as long as they are currently working on their certification. I’ve emailed the head of the ECE department at my community college to see what my best option would be, as the certification on its own would take less time than the A.S., and I’m assuming that since I already have an A.S., I’d be just fine with the certificate.

I’d be able to start working in that field in a relatively short period of time, and then I would have a good paying job with health insurance benefits and enough income to live off of. After that, I could start pursuing my B.A. in English part-time and eventually be in that field, as well as have time to focus on my writing; most preschool teachers are part-time employed, and depending on where they teach, they also have summers off. I would also have something to fall back on if I can’t find employment as an editorial assistant. No matter how I look at it, this works for the best.

I am not going to worry about our wedding plans. Mike and I both have very different ideas of what our wedding should look like. He wants a Halloween wedding and I want a beach wedding — two very different seasons. I worried about us compromising, but I’ve decided that if we don’t, I don’t care. It doesn’t really matter to me how we get married, so long as we do get married. We’re going to talk about our wedding plans, budget, and a possible date later.

I am not going to beat myself up about my savings and worry about how soon we can get our own place. It really bothers me that I had to use the money I saved for an apartment to get through the months I was unemployed… but I’m not going to beat myself up about it anymore. I’m saving money again and moving forward. I’m considering setting up a second savings account that is only for the apartment, that way it’s out of sight and out of mind, and I won’t be tempted to tap into it next time I have a monetary emergency.

And, on a lighter note… I am not going to worry about catching up on Grey’s Anatomy anymore. I finished Episode 16 of Season 7 earlier today, DVRed the first episode of Season 8 last night, and I’ll catch up eventually. I’m not really looking forward to having to wait a whole week to see the next episode, anyway.

Also, on a completely different subject but also equally light note, I am back in my writers’ group at NVCC. I’m also sort of a team leader, the person who is there every Thursday so that we meet once a week no matter what. This also means that, every week, I have to write something. It also means that I’m taking it upon myself to ensure that, every week, we have some kind of snack. Snacks are important. I’m making the writers’ group and the Fresh Ink publication one of my priorities right now, because it helps me make writing one of my priorities. Writing and snacks are important.

What are you not worrying about, and what are you looking forward to? Leave a comment and get the bad things off your mind, and make something good your mind’s priority.

How I manage my (pain in the ass) chronic pain

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Pain managementThroughout the last three years and nine months, I’ve met a lot of people through the internet who live with chronic pain and illness. Some of these people I keep in touch with regularly, while others I merely cross paths with for a short time. Many of the people I’ve met are bedridden, or have had their lives impacted in a large way by their pain. Hell, all of us have been impacted, but I’m talking about the people who can hardly get out of bed, who no longer go to work or do the things they used to love and do.

My heart goes out to these people. I truly feel for them, and I hope that they get better. I hope that they can return to the things they love. But me? I’m not going to allow that to happen to me. Call it stubbornness, or naivety, or whatever you want, but I refuse to let this fuck up my life. And don’t get me wrong — I don’t believe that most people allowed themselves to become bedridden. Some diseases are very vicious and degenerating. Do I think that some people gave up and allowed their illness to take over their lives? Yes, and that’s heartbreaking, because it’s one more thing that their illness has taken away from them: hope. I want to keep on hoping, to keep on living the way I’ve been living.

But fuck me, some days all I want to do is lay in bed and get on the Tramadol train. One day, I did just that. I hadn’t gotten up to take anything yet, but I did lay in bed. When Mike called to see if I still wanted to go out to breakfast, I told him no, that I was in too much pain. He came over anyway, and laid down with me for a while, soothing me and coaxing me to come out with him. I was still in pain while we ate, but I felt a lot better than I did when I just lay there. (Don’t get me wrong — there are many times when your body needs rest. But there is a difference between giving in to the depression and giving your body a break.)

Then there was the day I completely overexerted myself, resulting in spending the next three or four days limping and wincing with each “step.” Unfortunately — or maybe it was fortunate, depending on how you look at it — I was out of state, at a comic convention, and my bed was miles and miles away. I was having a really good time aside from the pain, and made the best of it. (The walk back to Grand Central, though? Fucking sucked.)

Since my pain can be my most debilitating symptom on a bad day, I’ve had to learn some coping methods. Prior to the onset of my mystery illness, my coping methods for stress, anxiety, and depression were cutting (during high school) and smoking (since high school). I’ve also had to learn to be gentle to myself. (Lately, I am relearning this; I tend to be hard on myself when I’m in pain at times, telling myself I’m being a baby.) If you’re like me and react oddly to prescription medication, the trial and error of finding “the one” can be a bitch (or your own private version of Woodstock, depending). Here is what I’ve been doing to get through my bad pain days:

  • Take Extra Strength Tylenol for mild pain. I’ve mentioned before that I have a ginormous bottle of Costco’s version of Extra Strength Tylenol. It’s cheap — two 500-count bottles cost $5 at Costco — and I honestly feel like it works better than the actual Tylenol brand.
  • Take Tramadol for severe pain. Because of how high it gets me, I reserve the Tramadol for when the pain gets so bad that it’s all I can think about. Usually I wait until bedtime, because as I’ve said many, many times, once it kicks in, I’m about as useful as your favorite pothead in high school. (I giggle. A lot. I’m good only for watching movies or TV, although I am capable of walking around and taking care of myself; I’d just rather sit on my ass and be high. [I would never drive while on it, though.])
  • Try to ignore it. Seriously. Sometimes, the best thing I can do is figuratively block my ears and sing, “La la la la la, I can’t hear you.” Sometimes, I even say, “Fuck off,” or “Stop,” out loud. This works well for twinges. It doesn’t work so well for severe pain.
  • Distract myself. Reading a book, or playing a game on the DS works perfectly for this. My DS especially comes in handy when it’s 3am, everyone else is asleep, and I’m in bed wide awake because Tramadol hasn’t kicked in yet and my joints are angry little demons. Anyone with chronic illness should invest in a DS, though, because they are a lifesaver for doctors’ waiting rooms.
  • Be good to myself. As crazy as it sounds, I will sometimes soothe myself, as if I were a child with a fever and that child’s parent. I’ll rub the spot where it hurts, tell myself I’m okay, and wrap myself in love. I’ve even told myself I was sorry a few times. That kind of TLC feels really good when I’m alone and there’s no one else to soothe me.
  • Verbalize it. There is a huge difference between complaining for attention and verbalizing that something is wrong. Healthy complaining is a good thing. Sometimes I’ll tweet it, but usually I’ll just say it out loud to myself or to someone else, if I’m with someone. For example: Yesterday, while doing dishes, the muscles in my left arm kept getting achy. I haven’t had muscle aching in a really long time, so it was pretty weird. I tried to ignore it, but while I was picking out clothes, it continued, so I said something to my mom about it. Verbalizing it helped take it off of my shoulders. When you live with any kind of chronic illness, it’s very important to get some of that proverbial weight off of your shoulders. Many people blog, see therapists, keep a journal, and/or talk to loved ones.
  • Breathe. Sometimes, it can all feel unbearable. I often forget to stop, breathe, and soothe myself, but when I do remember, it makes a world of difference.
  • Create. I’m a born writer, meaning that I best express myself in the written word. (I’m no Stephen King.) If I’m not quite in the mood for verbalization, losing myself in a story that I’m writing can help to get everything off of my mind. Other people with chronic pain do things like craft, knit, paint, scrapbook, sew, and other things to cope. Aside from writing, I enjoy embroidering, even though I haven’t done it in a while; it’s physically easy and a lot of fun.
  • Take care of myself. Chronic pain and illness can take a huge toll on your self-esteem. I already have depression, so sometimes I’m twice as susceptible to a downward spiral. I often find myself thinking, What’s wrong with me? Why me? What did I do to deserve this? Where did I go wrong that I ended up here? Will I ever find out what’s going on? Being inquisitive and refusing to give up on an answer is one thing, but when I’m being negative, it’s a completely different story. Recently I’ve discovered that “prettying up” every day helps boost my self-esteem. Is that vain? Maybe. Do I care? Not at all. When I feel good about myself, even if it’s just about the way I did my hair and makeup and put together my outfit, I feel a lot better on every level.
  • Rest. If I don’t get enough sleep, I am very vulnerable to a bad pain day. I don’t know why, but I’ve heard other people with chronic pain and illness say the same thing. I’m lucky enough to work from home, so I don’t have to be up super early to go to work. I can literally sleep in until I’m rested, roll out of bed, do my work, and take it easy if I need to. I can also take as many breaks as I need. When I used to have a part-time job, it was a little more difficult to get the rest I needed, especially since I’m biologically wired to be up half the night; getting up early was no picnic. I eventually changed my schedule so that I went in for noon instead of 9am, and this helped a lot. Knowing my body and working with my body definitely helps. However, I cyclically have week-long periods of time when I don’t sleep well at all. I have a feeling this is another symptom of my beloved Mystery Autoimmune Disease. During these periods of time, I can be dead tired but my body just won’t allow me to rest. It sounds crazy, right? It is. I actually just went through one of these periods. Poor Mike just told me last night that I’ve been really cranky lately. I didn’t realize it at all! I confessed that I’d been having trouble sleeping, and apologized. Last night I finally got a good night’s rest (fortunately for me, and fortunately for my poor family).
  • Drink plenty of fluids. I honestly don’t know if this helps with pain, but you’re supposed to, anyway, and it can’t hurt. I drink a lot of fluids anyway, since I have the perpetual thirst, thanks to whatever-the-fuck-is-wrong-with-me.

What are your coping methods for your chronic pain? Leave a comment and share, please!

How religion is helping me, even though I'm not religious

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I’m not religious. I was baptized and raised Protestant, but never really “got” it, no matter how much I tried. After years of not fitting in at church — and trying to figure out new ways to get out of going to church — I finally realized that I didn’t have to be religious to be a good person.

That said, I have friends and family from all different faiths and beliefs. It’s always interesting for me to learn about others’ religions. When I worked at the fruit basket place, most of my co-workers were Muslim. Those who weren’t Muslim were Christian. They all passed the work time talking about their beliefs, and I would pass the work time listening to them and soaking it all up. I don’t knock any religion — unless you’re a scientologist; as mean as it sounds, I just don’t get it and I don’t think I’ll ever even try to.

I am a little wary when it comes to discussing religion though. I tend to stick out like a sore thumb because I am not religious, and it actually makes me a little uncomfortable sometimes. My coworkers at the fruit basket place didn’t try to hide the fact that they were baffled by my religion-less lifestyle, and I’m pretty sure that when my boss fired me it was because I don’t believe in a higher power. As interested as I was in what they had to say, I felt a little alienated by their remarks. “How can you not believe in anything?” The way they said it, you’d think I’d just told them I ate babies. “That’s so weird,” they would say.

So I was a little on the defense when I first commented on Fruitful Words, a blog mostly about chronic pain and chronic pain management, focused entirely on women — and Christianity. I didn’t want to admit that I don’t practice Catholicism or even Buddhism, because I was terrified that the blog’s author, Susan, wouldn’t talk to me. I was terrified that the blog’s community would reject me.

I was wrong.

From the very first post I read about what to do and not to do for a woman with chronic pain, I was hooked. From my very first comment, I was accepted with open arms. No one seems to mind that I’m not religious, even though Susan specializes in women’s pastoral chronic pain management. Her advice is sound, and her words are uplifting and encouraging. I have been reading Fruitful Words almost daily since I found it a couple of days ago, because it is really helping to carry me through.

It is with gratitude and pleasure that I pass on some Bloggy Love to Susan.