Esoteric (adj.) - designed for or understood by the specially initiated alone
Chronic pain is transformative, of that there is no doubt (Brain Activity Shifts as Pain Becomes Chronic Archive link: http://archive.today/mwlhV). What it turns us into, is not wholly under our control, but what <i>is</i> under our control, we have a responsibility to master. Chronic pain initiates us to a world that others cannot understand. We few, we lucky few...
I've lost a lot over the years, and that took me to a dark place. Things are so desperate now, that all bets are off. The cannabis, I was using for pain control, is now causing me to break out in hives. I'm already on an elevated dose of prednisone for the weight gain, and I can only take one Benadryl at a time because two makes me feel NOT good. I have nothing else for the pain: I'm already going through 300 ibuprofen a month and that is what my endocrinologist thinks is suppressing my appetite along with the chronic nausea.
And now the next 4 days are going to be humid af, so I'm in an outrageous neuropathy flare, the likes I haven't had since 8 years ago.
I am so scared. And with good reason. My weight is below the bottom of the BMI scale. I need to be on higher thyroid medication but my doctor doesn't want to suppress my appetite further. I am caught between Scylla and Charybdis.
But I was able to catch something good amidst all that pain: one of the pinnacle scenes of my comic, where the heroine is rescued by her handmaiden, in a triumphant scene of metaphorical weight. It brings a balance to the story that it was missing before. And for that, I am grateful. For that I'll take the pain.
I've got purpose now. There is meaning to this suffering. It's what I needed all along. Here is the baby the "birth pains" were missing. Here is the light at the end of the tunnel. Here is the Why that can make me withstand any How (thank you, Viktor Frankl).
So I'm not upset by the pain, awful though it is. I am worried about being allergic to a pain medication I have to keep taking for now. That's certainly not good. I'm gonna be laid up for the next 3 days with the rain forecast (and probably and extra day to dry everything out), and that is really effing things up.
I was supposed to see the dentist today (canceled), I'm supposed to get blood-work done this week (that's not happening by any stretch of the imagination), I have a pain appointment tomorrow with an MD who doesn't prescribe (more like pain psych) that I cannot miss at any cost (I might even need to go fancy on the Uber ride for comfort's sake YIKES), and if it wasn't for the excessive pain and hypersensitivity.... ugh.
But it's not so bad that I need the ER. There is at least THAT. I can surf this wave, no problem. This is only an 8, all told. I get brief moments of somewhat respite where it drops to a 7, and that's manageable. Not ignorable, but manageable. I'm not yelping out in pain at least.
I'm on that razor's edge.
But just watch how I can dance.
Chronic pain is transformative, of that there is no doubt (Brain Activity Shifts as Pain Becomes Chronic Archive link: http://archive.today/mwlhV). What it turns us into, is not wholly under our control, but what <i>is</i> under our control, we have a responsibility to master. Chronic pain initiates us to a world that others cannot understand. We few, we lucky few...
I've lost a lot over the years, and that took me to a dark place. Things are so desperate now, that all bets are off. The cannabis, I was using for pain control, is now causing me to break out in hives. I'm already on an elevated dose of prednisone for the weight gain, and I can only take one Benadryl at a time because two makes me feel NOT good. I have nothing else for the pain: I'm already going through 300 ibuprofen a month and that is what my endocrinologist thinks is suppressing my appetite along with the chronic nausea.
And now the next 4 days are going to be humid af, so I'm in an outrageous neuropathy flare, the likes I haven't had since 8 years ago.
I am so scared. And with good reason. My weight is below the bottom of the BMI scale. I need to be on higher thyroid medication but my doctor doesn't want to suppress my appetite further. I am caught between Scylla and Charybdis.
But I was able to catch something good amidst all that pain: one of the pinnacle scenes of my comic, where the heroine is rescued by her handmaiden, in a triumphant scene of metaphorical weight. It brings a balance to the story that it was missing before. And for that, I am grateful. For that I'll take the pain.
I've got purpose now. There is meaning to this suffering. It's what I needed all along. Here is the baby the "birth pains" were missing. Here is the light at the end of the tunnel. Here is the Why that can make me withstand any How (thank you, Viktor Frankl).
So I'm not upset by the pain, awful though it is. I am worried about being allergic to a pain medication I have to keep taking for now. That's certainly not good. I'm gonna be laid up for the next 3 days with the rain forecast (and probably and extra day to dry everything out), and that is really effing things up.
I was supposed to see the dentist today (canceled), I'm supposed to get blood-work done this week (that's not happening by any stretch of the imagination), I have a pain appointment tomorrow with an MD who doesn't prescribe (more like pain psych) that I cannot miss at any cost (I might even need to go fancy on the Uber ride for comfort's sake YIKES), and if it wasn't for the excessive pain and hypersensitivity.... ugh.
But it's not so bad that I need the ER. There is at least THAT. I can surf this wave, no problem. This is only an 8, all told. I get brief moments of somewhat respite where it drops to a 7, and that's manageable. Not ignorable, but manageable. I'm not yelping out in pain at least.
I'm on that razor's edge.
But just watch how I can dance.
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