On Second Thought

When I write something, I obsessively re-read, edit, and re-write. I am trying to let go of that a bit so that I can get something written and posted more often. However.... I do want to clarify some things about the last two posts I have written.

• I just posted some thoughts about having to clear your throat of physical complaints before you can have a conversation about anything else, and -  Duh! - I've done it again. I have just launched my return to writing my Blog with two posts about that very thing! Oh, well, at least I am true to form. I'll finish these few after-thoughts, then move on to other conversations. 
• I would like to say clearly that "old age" and "aches and pains" are not synonymous. It is kind of a tired joke about aging, and I regret implying that such problems are inevitable. Body parts do tend to show wear and tear as we age, but that is not always true or disabling for many of us.
•  I don't like to perpetuate those old jokes about aging, and I don't like to hear them. I don't know about you, but I look old, and I don't need to advertise it with self-deprecating jokes that we have all heard ad nauseum. We are now, as always, individuals. And we don't have to paint ourselves with the same brush. Which brings me to the next bullet...
• Why Me? I didn't address the "Why Me?" of my medical issues, though I think there was an undertone of this in my blog posts. Generally, I think the answer is we are vulnerable, time-limited human beings and things happen to us. That's all I can say. Specifically, I can say that my problems are the result of a genetic predisposition to back issues and the abundance of bad lifestyle decisions I have made over the years, which were unkind to the well-being of my body. In other words, I own it. I don't blame anyone, nor do I waste time thinking my challenges are unfair. (Alright, I have probably spent some time feeling this, but I've moved on.) There is nothing unfair about it because I did not come with a written guarantee on any of my parts.
• So, let's have some new conversations about aging or any topic. Life is so full. There are many things to think about and discuss. I'll write about them as soon as my Ibuprofen kicks in.

Pain? Oh, no thank you, I thought you said 'Spain'

I was sitting in my surgeon's office waiting for a post-rotator Cuff repair check-up. The waiting room was filled with women of a certain age. Talk was lively and impassioned  It seems that my surgeon was hosting the Medical Drama Queen competition, and I had arrived to witness the finals. Each contestant recounted the numbers and seriousness of her multiple surgeries and her Richter scale of pain. They finally turned to me, clearly a rank amateur with my one surgery - "What did you have?" inquired the woman next to me. "Rotator cuff repair, and I..."

     "OH MY GOD! I had that. Oh, the pain, the pain. The whole hospital could hear me screaming with pain ...."

    I used to tell this story to be funny. Now I think I should have looked at these women with more compassion.

Pain, what can you say about it? A: I never expected to have it for more than a day or so. B: Now, I do. 

    To make a long pain story short, it began with my double knee replacements and an accompanying tendonitis that wouldn't go away. While working through this, my occasional neck and back arthritic pains decided, "Hey, we like it here. Let's just stay like forever and eat up her spine." And so it began.

Most recently, a nice surgeon told me, "Hey, your back is a mess. It's just worn out." I'm headed for surgery, and I'm told I will feel better, but one thing is clear, pain, at some level is here to stay. 

I think that is the hardest part. Learning that I have to accept a reality of no longer expecting problems like this to be short lived. Some things are chronic and will remain so.

Aches and pains seems to be the most common complaint I hear from my friends. We pledge not to talk about it, but then we do. It's like we have to clear our throats with our litany of complaints before we can have a conversation about anything else.

(It's at this point that. I realize this post is not leading to any golden answers. Sorry!)

Pain is subjective. It's why I have so much trouble with the dreaded Pain Scale. If I answer honestly, based on how the levels are actually described, I wouldn't be able to claim a level that sounds high enough to justify the effort and expense of a  visit, much less the attention of a doctor.  "It's a 10, damn it," I long to scream. 'It's a 10, and I'm sticking with it."

I do like to know what other people with pain issues have tried, especially things that seem to work, but, as in all life's challenges, I have to discover what works for me. And, I have to advocate for myself The usual path of solutions, might not be the right path for me. 

For example: I was referred to a pain clinic. This was not for me. It felt like a factory, and I, a lifelong non-abuser, got tired of having to fill out drug screening forms and pee all the time. I get it, I do, they have to do it, but it was not for me.

I don't want to be a different person because of pain, but I am learning that I have to act differently in some ways.

I have to pace myself; do things when I am feeling better; and I have to rest. Fortunately, I am very skilled at the third one. I just have trouble giving myself permission to do it.

I have to ask for help, especially from my kind, forbearing husband. I cannot carry 50 lb. bags of potting soil or move large furniture by myself. (Probably I should have figured this out long ago!)

Water therapy and massage are a gift I give myself, when I can afford it. Yoga and my yoga group are life savers. I'm trying to stop striving and to rest more in the asanas now.

I do talk with my friends, but I try to ask how they are doing first. I couldn't make it without them and their support.

I sometimes say, "I'm sorry, I can't today."

I have promised myself, that I will not become dependent upon pain killers (not that anyone is offering to give me any), but I can understand how that could easily happen - even to me. There are times when I would take anything.

CBD salve works wonders on my neck and knees, though some people say it doesn't do anything for them. That's ok. I BELIEVE it does, and that's what really counts. 

I am working to stay active and engaged. Since I moved recently, I have to put some new things in place, but I have to do it. I don't want to become isolated by my medical issues.

That's enough. I hope this gets me into the next round of the Medical Drama Queen competition! I would like to know about your experience with pain. How do you cope? Please leave me a comment, and I wish you a pain(less) day!

Old Sneaks Up On You

 I thought I was doing fine. No kidding. One minute I was climbing tall mountains around Asheville (well, at least part of the way) and hauling 50 lb. bags of potting soil, and then WHAM! All of a sudden, I'm spending my days juggling doctors' appointments and wondering when my back is going to feel good enough so that I can clean up the piles of lint and unidentifiable objects underneath my bed. 

My current list of conditions runs to two pages and my medications and supplements would, and do, fill a drugstore. And to add insult to injury, my ears are ringing all the %&&$$ time! Yes, I'm a Southerner, and I say Ten-Eye-Tus!

Well, I knew that my count of years was dangerously high, but I thought I was staying active and engaged, and managing quite well. I never expected that things could change so dramatically and so quickly. Apparently getting old is a wall that slams you when you are thinking of something else. And, here's the kicker, I can't get one "condition" under satisfactory management before the doctor is adding another one that I am suffering instead of a experiencing a natural high up on Black Balsam. Who do I speak to about slowing things down a bit until I can get a grip?

I actually had one health care provider say, "You are getting old. Your body is breaking down, and you can't accept it." I was so shocked, I forgot to say, "Would you please introduce me to the person who said, 'I'm so happy: my body is breaking down."

I wonder if this has happened to other people in this way? How do you handle it?So far I've tried angry; depressed; hiding out; complaining day and night; and just plain resentfulness. Score: Old Age - 5, Sandi - 0.

In the middle of this we moved ourselves to a new town, and that was so difficult, but it did give me permission (in my opinion) to hang around the house doing nothing and not combing my hair. I'm pretty sure this is not going to work for me either. I've still got some time left (some being an indefinite amount), and I don't want to spend it feeling, well, OLD!

It has recently occurred to me that the solution to this old problem, is not in a 30-day supply of anything. I'm going to have to do something about it myself. Writing this is a task I have set myself to start using my brain again, and think these things through. Not sure what comes next. Any ideas? Is it time for my next dose? Honey could you please find my phone for me, again?

Dusting off the Old Blog

Hello again! I've not been writing this blog for quite sometime. I was feeling disgusted and certain that what the world does not need is another angry person venting on the Internet about He Who Shall Not Be Named. I couldn't think of anything else to write about, so I just gave it up. A couple of friends, whom I admire, told me I could take it up again, and I think that they are right. It will do me good to share some of what's happening in my life. It's a way to process things, and since COVID, my husband has gone above and beyond in the listening department. He deserves a break.

I hope have some readers, and I hope they will find some common themes and join the conversation by leaving comments. 

I'm going to risk being virtually slapped by being yet another person who says to you, "You know we are all in this together." While that doesn't feel very true right now, I know that we do share common interests and experiences as we run, walk, crawl, and fumble our way through our lives . So pour another cup, and let's talk.

WARNING! If you choose to read beyond this point, please know that I have been tempted to rename this blog: The Pain Journals! Enter at your own risk!