SHATTERED
PAIN, a
four letter word like so many others but when linked with the words chronic and
severe, it changes ones life forever. When people ask you “How are you,” you
try not to alarm them by saying “Well, actually I want to scream my head off
and rip my body apart,” but instead you say “Well, I’m in a lot of pain today,” and it's difficult for them not to look uncomfortable. It's understandable really, either they don't relate or just don't know what to say.
IT
happens to most everyone that we accidentally knock an expensive glass off the counter and
despite a frantic attempt to catch it, it still crashes into pieces on the
floor. A momentary chaos ensues while after moving children and pets out of the
way, we gingerly pick up the sharp pieces knowing that even the
tiniest shard could cut us. We are filled with disappointment to recognize that the glass- part of a special set- has shattered beyond repair and is irreplaceable. It is frustrating, sad, and inconvenient just like the disability that came and blatantly stole my life leaving behind fragmented pieces to navigate my future. I lay in a terrible state of shock, broken tiny pieces of glass that. despite endless doctor's visits, will never be repaired.
My neatly wrapped family of four has been irrevocably altered, they still have the illusion of being complete but if you look closely, you will see that they too are no longer whole. Severe chronic pain has come and roused havoc
in every fibre of our lives and although the damage may not be not be the same, we all feel the impact of its force.
A
pain-filled body breaks apart into several pieces: first the body itself
as it mourns the activities that it used to do so effortlessly. The mind splinters slowly over years trying to find ways to cope with this unnatural state. The body and mind beg for sleep - so incredibly elusive- that can provide a much needed rest from the pain.
The heart and spirit are the last to break, the spirit in denial as it fights to remain hopeful that there are better days ahead. The heart weeps a river of tears feeling the true depth of sadness both for the person in the crippled body but also for the loved ones who cannot find the words to console or make the situation better. Loneliness, depression, and moments of utter despair are your new unwelcome companions that take the place of your former friends.
For years, I carried on in a state of semi- existence and waited to get better. I never entertained the thought that I wouldn't so when I started to hear doctors predict a life of pain, both my mind and heart refused to accept it.
I had been a twelve year old child when I had my first major back surgery after being diagnosed with scoliosis, my spine was shaped like a S with two prominent curvatures measuring 65% and 60%. A gifted surgeon fused my entire spine (except L4, L5) as it was the only treatment option. After enduring the stryker frame for 14 days, and four months lying flat in a body cast, followed by two more months in a walking cast. I was in excruciating pain for the first two weeks after my surgery but actually handled the rest of my recovery with humour and a c'est la vie attitude.
Once I was given the go-ahead - one year recovery from my orginal surgery date - I jumped back full throttle into an active lifestyle. I thought my back issues were firmly entrenched in the past.
They never discussed things with children all those years ago so it was almost a shock to educate myself about what it meant to actually have a fused spine, a spine that no longer functioned correctly. Because my two curves could only be straightened to a certain degree, several of my muscles were pulled out of alignment and my two disks had taken on the job of living my life for twenty years before they finally quit the job.
I had been on borrowed time without realizing it as I was uneducated about my operation and the lingering results. It took many years before I truly comprehended that the life of of intolerable pain that I had inherited.
So began my life on a revolving medical carousel seeing specialists, having Cat-scans, MRI's , special x-rays, physio, acupuncture etc. looking endlessly for that magic bullet that would give me back my life. Every bit of energy was used looking for a solution to the pain. Eventually, I was referred to a chronic pain specialist who I would see every 4-6 months and he tried botox injections and when that made things worse, he gave me more medications to manage my pain. He was a caring doctor who sent me for an array of other facet injections, nerve oblations, but nothing gave me much, if any, relief. I felt like I was no longer living but simply, in a state of existence.
In my dreams, I was haunted by the memories of enjoying activities I once loved and upon waking, would sometimes have a panic attack because I was so distraught by the pain that awaited me.
I felt a depth of sadness that is difficult to describe and I suffocated in everyone's pity. To be truthful, there were days that I lay motionless, drowning in my own pit of depression, gasping for air.
And yet, I was still a mother who would try to summon any bravery possible to spare my son and daughter the true depth of my anguish. But, often, in their loving, compassionate arms, I would sob uncontrollably. I remember quite vividly my then six year old daughter crying bitterly while shaking her fist at God because he hadn't made her mommy better despite her prayers every night. For many years, my young children shouldered their mother's despair and I wish I could have spared them this burden. It was undoubtedly the lowest moment in my life.
I truly think that angels dressed as dogs -but their wings most apparent- lifted me from the bottom of the sea. My amazing dogs, I had two at the time, a beautiful black and white sheltie named Kiesa and a collie named Maestro -who looked like Lassie were so loving and provided great companionship. In the past sixteen months, we have added two miniature dachshunds to our pack and they are the epitome of joy and life.
Oliver and Solomon specialize in cuddling, and unconditionally loving their family.
These dogs are out of their minds crazy-joyful to see me every day despite my broken down appearance and don't care one iota about my lost abilities or career. In fact, they are quite delighted to have more time with their Mom and their unconditional love has slowly worked their magic. When I am left at home because the activity for my family is beyond my abilities, I am no longer alone. I have companionship, humour and love 24/7 thanks to my angels. I think it is of absolute necessity that a person living with chronic pain have a pet who bolsters their spirits. I read an article recently that most homeless people would rather give up a place to sleep for a night rather than giving up their dog. I fully understand their sentiment as I couldn't imagine going through this struggle without the love and companionship of my dogs.
This journey living with chronic pain is different for everyone but I believe that there has to be a mind shift in how you live with pain.
For me, all the years I spent expending my energy trying to be a semblance of my former self actually prevented me from living.
But much like layers of grief, I believe that it is a process that takes time learning to live better with chronic pain. It isn't always easy as there are moments that remind you of what you were like before but I try my best to channel my precious bit of energy towards things that give me a sense of self-worth.
I mean, how can a person fully live if you are full of anger and despair, your thoughts are of what used to be and not what could be possible. I think that much of the energy I expended in the first ten years living in pain was spent hoping to get better. I have now come to realize that that precious little bit of energy must be used for things that give me a sense of worth.
I wish I could wave magic fairy dust and say that the pain goes away and the struggle of this journey is over. But for me, the pain continues to push my limits. My lower disks are completely obliterated, bone on bone. My fused spine has been sitting atop this precarious foundation and over time, has been negated to a forty degree angle. I feel grateful that I finally found a surgeon who was able to explain to me why my pain had worsened. I have major surgeries ahead of me that carry a possibility of paralysis, but even the best case scenario will still not fix my entire spine. However, any improvement would be accepted with open, grateful arms.
My children made an art project four years ago where they glued tiny, coloured pieces of glass onto a plain white form. I was struck by its unique beauty and for a moment, I could see myself in that creation.
My former self - the glass- is now broken but yet, my shattered pieces have come together to make a new self that is still strong and beautiful. These tiny fragments have forged together to carry me forward to a life worth living and although it is not the same, perhaps I will cherish moments of joy even that much more.
It is human nature to never appreciate life quite the same way until you have lost something. So, for me, my shattered pieces have reminded me that it is my mind that will determine if I am too broken to be part of my family, not by body. It was definitely a period of grief and depression but out of the storm, a piercing light has penetrated the clouds and I can barely stand its brightness!
Such is the beauty of life when you are open to living it despite your circumstances. So, with a spirit of gratitude, I intend to do just that and feel giddy at all the adventures that lie in front of me.
The heart and spirit are the last to break, the spirit in denial as it fights to remain hopeful that there are better days ahead. The heart weeps a river of tears feeling the true depth of sadness both for the person in the crippled body but also for the loved ones who cannot find the words to console or make the situation better. Loneliness, depression, and moments of utter despair are your new unwelcome companions that take the place of your former friends.
For years, I carried on in a state of semi- existence and waited to get better. I never entertained the thought that I wouldn't so when I started to hear doctors predict a life of pain, both my mind and heart refused to accept it.
I had been a twelve year old child when I had my first major back surgery after being diagnosed with scoliosis, my spine was shaped like a S with two prominent curvatures measuring 65% and 60%. A gifted surgeon fused my entire spine (except L4, L5) as it was the only treatment option. After enduring the stryker frame for 14 days, and four months lying flat in a body cast, followed by two more months in a walking cast. I was in excruciating pain for the first two weeks after my surgery but actually handled the rest of my recovery with humour and a c'est la vie attitude. Once I was given the go-ahead - one year recovery from my orginal surgery date - I jumped back full throttle into an active lifestyle. I thought my back issues were firmly entrenched in the past.
They never discussed things with children all those years ago so it was almost a shock to educate myself about what it meant to actually have a fused spine, a spine that no longer functioned correctly. Because my two curves could only be straightened to a certain degree, several of my muscles were pulled out of alignment and my two disks had taken on the job of living my life for twenty years before they finally quit the job.
I had been on borrowed time without realizing it as I was uneducated about my operation and the lingering results. It took many years before I truly comprehended that the life of of intolerable pain that I had inherited.
So began my life on a revolving medical carousel seeing specialists, having Cat-scans, MRI's , special x-rays, physio, acupuncture etc. looking endlessly for that magic bullet that would give me back my life. Every bit of energy was used looking for a solution to the pain. Eventually, I was referred to a chronic pain specialist who I would see every 4-6 months and he tried botox injections and when that made things worse, he gave me more medications to manage my pain. He was a caring doctor who sent me for an array of other facet injections, nerve oblations, but nothing gave me much, if any, relief. I felt like I was no longer living but simply, in a state of existence.
In my dreams, I was haunted by the memories of enjoying activities I once loved and upon waking, would sometimes have a panic attack because I was so distraught by the pain that awaited me.
I felt a depth of sadness that is difficult to describe and I suffocated in everyone's pity. To be truthful, there were days that I lay motionless, drowning in my own pit of depression, gasping for air.
And yet, I was still a mother who would try to summon any bravery possible to spare my son and daughter the true depth of my anguish. But, often, in their loving, compassionate arms, I would sob uncontrollably. I remember quite vividly my then six year old daughter crying bitterly while shaking her fist at God because he hadn't made her mommy better despite her prayers every night. For many years, my young children shouldered their mother's despair and I wish I could have spared them this burden. It was undoubtedly the lowest moment in my life.
I truly think that angels dressed as dogs -but their wings most apparent- lifted me from the bottom of the sea. My amazing dogs, I had two at the time, a beautiful black and white sheltie named Kiesa and a collie named Maestro -who looked like Lassie were so loving and provided great companionship. In the past sixteen months, we have added two miniature dachshunds to our pack and they are the epitome of joy and life. 
Oliver and Solomon specialize in cuddling, and unconditionally loving their family.
These dogs are out of their minds crazy-joyful to see me every day despite my broken down appearance and don't care one iota about my lost abilities or career. In fact, they are quite delighted to have more time with their Mom and their unconditional love has slowly worked their magic. When I am left at home because the activity for my family is beyond my abilities, I am no longer alone. I have companionship, humour and love 24/7 thanks to my angels. I think it is of absolute necessity that a person living with chronic pain have a pet who bolsters their spirits. I read an article recently that most homeless people would rather give up a place to sleep for a night rather than giving up their dog. I fully understand their sentiment as I couldn't imagine going through this struggle without the love and companionship of my dogs.
This journey living with chronic pain is different for everyone but I believe that there has to be a mind shift in how you live with pain.
For me, all the years I spent expending my energy trying to be a semblance of my former self actually prevented me from living.
But much like layers of grief, I believe that it is a process that takes time learning to live better with chronic pain. It isn't always easy as there are moments that remind you of what you were like before but I try my best to channel my precious bit of energy towards things that give me a sense of self-worth.
I mean, how can a person fully live if you are full of anger and despair, your thoughts are of what used to be and not what could be possible. I think that much of the energy I expended in the first ten years living in pain was spent hoping to get better. I have now come to realize that that precious little bit of energy must be used for things that give me a sense of worth.
I wish I could wave magic fairy dust and say that the pain goes away and the struggle of this journey is over. But for me, the pain continues to push my limits. My lower disks are completely obliterated, bone on bone. My fused spine has been sitting atop this precarious foundation and over time, has been negated to a forty degree angle. I feel grateful that I finally found a surgeon who was able to explain to me why my pain had worsened. I have major surgeries ahead of me that carry a possibility of paralysis, but even the best case scenario will still not fix my entire spine. However, any improvement would be accepted with open, grateful arms.My children made an art project four years ago where they glued tiny, coloured pieces of glass onto a plain white form. I was struck by its unique beauty and for a moment, I could see myself in that creation.My former self - the glass- is now broken but yet, my shattered pieces have come together to make a new self that is still strong and beautiful. These tiny fragments have forged together to carry me forward to a life worth living and although it is not the same, perhaps I will cherish moments of joy even that much more.
It is human nature to never appreciate life quite the same way until you have lost something. So, for me, my shattered pieces have reminded me that it is my mind that will determine if I am too broken to be part of my family, not by body. It was definitely a period of grief and depression but out of the storm, a piercing light has penetrated the clouds and I can barely stand its brightness!
Such is the beauty of life when you are open to living it despite your circumstances. So, with a spirit of gratitude, I intend to do just that and feel giddy at all the adventures that lie in front of me.
