Pain is boring, part duex

Yes, I am aware I've written about this before, but in three years or so of blogging, I'm bound to repeat myself.  Or in my case, become a broken record.

Today for some reason, pain for me came to a climax.  I didn't really sleep, I've been taking lots of pills all night and day, and finally, during the day I've been sleeping a few hours after each pill.

But I have to stay in a specific position with pillows to stay in the least amount of pain possible and it limits what I can do.  And it means what I do gets boring.  I want to be sitting up writing!  I am so excited to be at it again.  Instead, I work a little, as much as I can do, and then stop and get back into my comfortable position.

Bright side: doctor appointment on Friday, I have a doctor at all, I have access to medical care via Medicare, and I am back on pain killers.  But bright side or not, pain is so very boring.

Writing

I have been writing creatively (short stories, poems, novellas, novels, etc) since I was in the seventh grade.  During that time I have had ups and downs, times of prolificness and times of wasteland.  I've experienced every mood a writer can go through as she attempts genius.  My mom once commented on hearing Beethoven and knowing I was writing.  Very moody, heavy stuff.

For the past few months I haven't been able to even open my book, The Keepers.  I've had such a hard time even thinking about it.  I have some theories, but I'll try not to ramble more than usual this afternoon.

But today I cracked it open and started editing.  I was afraid it wouldn't be as good as I thought it was months ago.  But it is.  I thought I wouldn't like it because of my association with it to a friendship gone awry.  But I was fine and in fact, reading and editing and writing made me stronger for it.  I thanks the Muses.

I was just thinking about this...

I've been trying to figure out how to get over my horrible writer's block, or what I've come to know as my writer's constipation.  I was thinking the answer lay somewhere in the past and I considered confronting it (cryptic, I know, but go with me) but then I read my Freewill Horoscope.  Check this out:

Taurus Horoscope for week of March 24, 2011

If you're thinking of calling on a ghost to provide you with information, make sure you know how to banish it when you're finished milking it. If you're considering a trek into the past to seek some consolation or inspiration, drop breadcrumbs as you go so you can find your way back to the present when it's time to return. Catch my drift, Taurus? It's fine to draw on the old days and the old ways, but don't get lost or stuck there.

My road trip

This past weekend I went on a little road trip to see my bestie in eastern Idaho, go to my grandpa's birthday party in Brigham, UT, and then visit my brother's family outside Salt Lake City.  It was a marathon of driving, but worth the pain I am in now.  The great thing about my doctor is that when I called him to tell him the meds weren't doing it because of the road trip/time spent in the car, he didn't lecture; he just said to take a different  dosage.

Here are some fun moments:

I played "Just Dance" with some of my favorite favorites! 

My Grandpa at his birthday party. 

My niece showing me her silly face.

My niece and her grandpa having a balloon war.

My two nieces: Big Sister and Baby Sister - and Big Sister loves her Baby Sister.

The unbelievable breakfast my brother made for us - yes, that is a caramel sauce he made.

My brother holds Mary as she uses an exercise ball as a trampoline.

Me holding my new niece.

Dating habits of a singleton

This particular singleton, me, is blogging about dating because (a) I'm in a lot of pain physically and the ongoing traumas of the dating world are easier to think about and (b) I've decided radical celibacy will not be workable for the rest of my life.

These days, the fact that I haven't even so much as kissed a man in a year and a half weighs on me.  And I figured out that my strategy of avoiding everyone in my life who is not a family member is not helping that.


Also, I need to make a concerted effort to get over my ex.

Therefore, I've joined some dating sites.  One is good, called OK Cupid.  I heard about it on Dan Savage's podcast.  I like it.  It asks all kinds of questions, you fill out tests, it ranks matches, and it is free!  And so far I've had some contacts.  The other site I'm on, called Plenty of Fish, seems to be all about booty.  Not for me.

In the past I don't feel like I ever dated exactly.  I mean, yes, if one were to count them up, I've dated a few men (more than I ever brought home, mom).  And no wisecracks from a specific friend who knew me in high school. :)  The thing is I'm more of a become friends, merge into something else, see if it works out, and then you're together.  I haven't gone on a "dinner and movie" type official date with someone I just met since I was 18.

For instance, my ex husband.  I met him through mutual friends.  There was some hanging out.  Our "first date" as I'll call it because he kissed me at the end, was not meant to be one because our friends were supposed to meet up with us and never did.  The second date was me cooking dinner and inviting him over.  And then we got together.  And then we got engaged.  And then we got married.

So now I have new friends to text and chat with and it's fun, I have to admit.  But this dating thing, so far over my head.  But I can't wait for everything in my life to line up perfectly - me get all better, get a job that pays more than I make now, etc.

It can't be like the Colin Hay song.  I can't just be "waiting for my real life to begin".  This is my real life.  And I want to be living it, not waiting around in it.  Going to Hawaii helped me learn that.

"Waiting for my real life to begin"*

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hlSkfk_zOuE

*That chick in the background is an odd one...

Roller-dealy

This little contraption has been a lifesaver of late. It is a hard foam roller that you use to roll out the hurt in your muscles and joints.  It feels like getting a deep tissue massage (and is a bit painful like one) but it helps so much!  My hamstrings have just ached and this has been so helpful.  Thank you mom for letting me borrow it!

But next week, on the three week mark (or is it four?) of spraining my ankle, I am getting back in the freaking water and going swimming.  This stiffness is killing me!

And then in the spirit of my quest to ASK, I'm getting some muscle relaxers from my doc at my next visit.  The spasms are miserable and you know, they don't need to be.  I have learned the lesson over and over again - stop being "tough girl" and take care of yourself.  So I'm trying.  Really!

Thanks coach

As many of you know, I was a debater in high school and then in college.  I debated for national champs, Boise State - the "Talking Broncos".  At nationals this year in Portland, one of my old coaches in retiring from college coaching to go to high school coaching (why, I don't know…)  I was asked to write about a memory of him for a scrapbook my old teammate/friend is putting together in his honor. Because he has meant so much to me, for so many years even after college, I thought in honor of his service, I'd post here what I wrote about him:

Jeff Stoppenhagen was a life preserver for this once scared, intimidated, and generally self-conscious “Talking Bronco” freshman.  I knew I could just be near him or talk to him and feel like I wasn’t this little fish swimming against a current of the vastly more experienced and worldly ones around me.  I came from a farm.  In the middle of nowhere.  I was terrified most of the time.

One day we were loading into vans for a tournament and before we started our trek to the northwest, he pulled us all aside in a huddle.  Among the gifts he bestowed on us, was this prescription bottle filled with “pills” (actually miniature M&Ms) to help us when we needed them.  Placebo that they were, I took them regularly that tournament.  I felt mighty, not small, knowing someone believed in me as he did.

Jeff always took time for me, no matter how late into the night or how tedious my speech.  He helped shape me as a person.  I still try to emulate his kindness. 

Thank you, Jeff, for all you’ve done for me, for the years of emulation since my time on the squad you didn’t know about, and the ways I couldn’t begin to count.

Always, forever

It's been an hour since I've been up. The pain, so pervasive and vile, will not let up.  And in these moments I cannot think beyond the thought that I will never, ever feel anything but this, this pain of this moment.  It is in these moments I take a Klonopin and wait for the firm grasp of my psyche to return.  I know on an intellectual level that in a few hours I'll feel better, go to my aunt's birthday party, eat cake.  But tears and restless limbs, angry for the peripheral pain they feel justifiably like they don't deserve, all there is: the pain of this moment, always, forever.

Oh, crap.  I'm going to puke, but I can't puke up the pills I just took.  Ending now.

Gratitude for medical care done right

This is not just an ordinary bag.  It's extraordinary not because it's cute, although it is, but because it is from the Women's Imaging Center affiliated with St. Luke's in Twin Falls and it is full of supportive and useful information and neat little things about breast cancer.  It is just one of many wonderful services my gram, who has Stage 1 breast cancer, has received.




Her care has been magnificent - what health care should be, what it was meant to be - and we are grateful.

How is it so special?  Not only does she have great doctors/specialists, but she receives services from a wide array of professionals.  They treat her like a person, like they live the Golden Rule, and the facility is very nice.  Last week she met with a financial advisor who told her that because she is still working, they will bill Blue Cross first, then Medicare, and she will have absolutely NO out of pocket expense.  She met with a social worker who told her that since gas prices were so high and she'd be driving from Paul to Twin Falls every week day, 33 days in a row, she could get a gas card if she needed.

I am so grateful and give thanks for the care she is receiving and will continue to receive because this is medical care done the right way, not just any way.

Spare room

When one's chronic depression and S.A.D. is being treated adequately, it is amazing what one can accomplish!  With the help of her mom, of course.

Before

After

Pain, everlasting, never-ending, pain

I usually wake at 4:30 or 5:30 in the morning (and dammit Sully knows it and jumps up on the bed even if I wasn't going to wake up).  For a non-morning person it is solely for taking pain killers.  And sometimes something for the anxiety a higher degree of pain is causing me.

When one is having a lot of pain and then one gets all riled up about it, it triggers the adrenal response of fight or flight, pumping more pain and your brain gets locked in the pain cycle.  The miserable g.d. pain cycle.

Watching my SIL in so much pain this past weekend has made me acutely aware of how much I've come to know about pain and managing pain, despite all I still can learn (another reason I want to be a patient at the U of U clinic so much).

This morning I couldn't stay lying here listening to my favorite podcasts or music or the things that usually calm me down and lull me back to sleep.  Instead I chewed up a "chill out" pill and am hoping for peace soon.  It's been about 10 hours since my last pain killer so I am also in withdrawals.

The other night I fell asleep chanting my prayer for my SIL.  Maybe I'll go try that again.

Or I'll try counting my blessing instead of sheep.  Like how I have a dog who jumps up on the bed at five AM and who will sit there when I pet her and belch loudly without opening her mouth.  It's actually one of the "Rules of Zombieland": enjoy the little things.

Those little things might get me through the pain hurdle this morning.  I'll worry about tomorrow when it comes.  And now, for fun:

"Rules of Zombieland: Enjoy the Little Things"

(There are no zombies and this segment is rated G)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-zYDcRb_GzQ&feature=related

Baby Anna

Today my parents and I tended Mary while my brother stayed with his wife (also her parents) at the hospital.  For awhile it looked and felt grey.  We got an update on the baby's low oxygen issue and found out it was a syndrome some cesarean babies can have that they basically get over.  And Anna so far has gotten over it!  But her mommy was doing worse and worse.  She went into surgery this afternoon.  And they fixed her!  But she is in horrible pain and only been able to see her baby twice, which to me would be so hard among all of it.

Now that I'm home I want to just go to bed and say a prayer of gratitude and try to shake the sadness of thinking of my sweet SIL in so much pain.  But I've decided that I should also celebrate the miracle of Anna!  When I held her I cried.  So here are some pics:

Grandma introduces Mary to her new baby sister.  Mary said, "Oh, she's so cute."

Grandma and Anna

Me holding Anna - before I started crying, I think

My brother with his new daughter

Little Anna

There is just one more picture I want to put on here and it is not of baby Anna.  When Mary is around she liked to take pictures so I let her use my camera and I end up with camera full of thirty random shots of parts of people and objects.  But she gets my mom sometimes and I think she takes the best pictures of my mom.  It's as if my mom is so delighted to see her that all this love and radiance just opens up when she sees the little shutterbug.  Here's an example:

My mom aka Mary and Anna's grandma

Our newest Smith

Welcome to the world, little Anna!  She weighed six pounds, six ounces upon delivery and my brother can't remember her length.  She is not as long as her sister was when she was born, we do know that.   Little Anna needs more oxygen so in this picture she is in the special oxygen basket.  Her mommy (my SIL) is having a struggle - just like the rest of her pregnancy… only all at once and worse.  Bringing this baby into the world has been so hard for her and now it continues to be complicates.  Prayers and manifestations, please.

Music always and forever soothes this savage breast

"If you're worried and you cant sleep,
just count your blessings instead of sheep
and you'll fall asleep counting your blessings."
"Count Your Blessings" (White Christmas)


Around this time of day I wake up, take care of my dogs and my basic needs, give them their breakfast, and I eat enough to stomach my early morning medication ritual: Percocet for pain, Klonopin for the anxiety about the pain until the Percocet kicks in.

PS The picture is of me in my bed - my favorite place to be!

But better than that, always better than that, while I wait for the medication and/or sleep, I listen to my sleep playlist.  I play it at night, when I need to sleep through bad pain, whenever.  And it never fails me.

Oliver Sacks (my hero neurological thinker) wrote:

"Music can lift us out of depression or move us to tears - it is a remedy, a tonic, orange juice for the ear. But for many of my neurological patients, music is even more - it can provide access, even when no medication can, to movement, to speech, to life. For them, music is not a luxury, but a necessity." 



And now, my current playlist:


1. Count Your Blessings - Bing Crosby                         

2. If I Only Had A Brain - Jeremy Little 

3. Most Of The Time - Bob Dylan     

4. Lilac Wine - Jeff Buckley

5. Somewhere Over the Rainbow / What a Wonderful World - Israel Kamakawiwo'ole       

6. The Rainbow Connection - Willie Nelson

7. Suite Bergamasque: 3. Clair de Lune - Alexis Weissenberg  (performing)

8. Bird Gerhl  - Antony & The Johnsons       

9. If You Want Me - Glen Hansard & Marketa Irglova    

10. My Heart Will Go On  - I Salonisti      

11. Canon in D Major, T. 337 - Societas Music Chamber Orchestra (performing)           

12. Carnival of the Animals: VII. Aquarium - Philharmania Orchestra (performing)       

13. Landslide - Fleetwood Mac

14. A Girl, a Boy, and a Graveyard - Jeremy Messersmith  

Ahem

Ever since attempting to penetrate the medical establishment of specialists and super-dooper  specialist I've come upon a recurring behavior that I think separates the wheat from the chafe, so to speak.

When I explained how I lost my health insurance and couldn't afford a pain care specialist anymore, the nurse practitioner at Lane CC was sympathetic and helpful and did everything she could to get me on all the pharmaceutical companies free drug programs.  When I explained it to my current fiery, kick-ass nurse and GP doc, they were instantly on my side, supporting me and helping me anyway I needed.

But when other clinics I've been working with to get care and to get my pump removed asked for current records and I explain it to them, this is how the screenplay would read:

Nurse: Long pause on the phone, answers slowly with hint of disdain, emphasizing every syllable as she says, "Okay."


And scene.

Is it that in conceivable that someone in my position (malady) could go without healthcare?  Millions of Americans do!  Do they live in a bubble?  What do they do with patients who call for help but have no health insurance and can't pay out of pocket?

I am grateful for Medicare, even when it falls short.  When I hear right wing members of Congress B&M about it, I want to reenact that scene from A Clockwork Orange, but they'd watch all the people who'd suffer without it.

Maybe some insulated, bubble living health care providers, too.