I got the nerve test results from the neurologist. Not good. Basically, a vertebrae in my neck is fucked up (not currently sure how or why) and has been destroying the two main nerves that lead to my hands. The pain is the result of the damaged nerves misfiring. I’m currently at the “mild to moderate” level of damage/pain. I’m going to have to go in for another MRI so they can try to figure out what, exactly, the injury in my neck is and if it can be helped. The nerve damage and pain are only going to get worse. Which is…mind blowing.
See, I’ve been in pain every moment of every day for the last, god, seven-ish years. Morphine, Vicodin, Oxycodone,…none of them even touch the pain I have. I’m currently on a patch that pumps Fentanyl into my bloodstream on a constant basis. Fentanyl is 100x stronger than Morphine and I’m still in pain. (I seriously don't know how that's medically possible!) I’m also on the max dosage of nerve blockers. And the pain in my hands is like nothing I have ever experienced. Ever. Even while on all that shit, the pain - when flared up - is so bad that I have to bite down on a pillow and scream into it because I don’t know what else to do. I can’t even wrap my mind around what “moderate to severe” is going to feel like. Or how to survive that. So, yeah. Not the BEST day ever.
Then today in the middle of an IM conversation something just hit me in a vulnerable spot and I’m currently crying over how imprisoned I feel by my body. How I've chosen to be imprisoned by it. How many times I’ve said “no” to things I desperately wanted to say “yes” to because I didn’t want to burden others with my pain and weakness. I don’t want to hold people up because I walk so slowly. I don’t want them to hear how hard I’m breathing or see how much I’m sweating when I push my body a little bit further than it’s used to. I don’t want to make people stop because I need to sit down again and again. I just…fucking HATE how inconvenient my body is to others.
So fucking afraid of other people seeing how truly broken I am. Saying “no” again and again. Telling myself that ONE DAY it’ll be different. ONE DAY I’ll be strong and healthy and have no pain. But I need to truly, truly, TRULY accept the fact that that bullshit magical thinking will never come to pass. NEVER. And, I guess, that’s what hit hardest with the neurological results. “It will only get worse.” It will only get worse. So may years feeling so fucking ASHAMED. Ashamed of this pain and this weakness. Ashamed of how much help and effort it requires. So, instead, I curl in a ball and hide. Too afraid to trust that I’m capable of so much more. Too afraid to trust that people can adore me enough to see my weaknesses and my pain and my shaky legs and gasping breath and sweaty face and love me anyway.
I need to learn to live with my limitations instead of allowing them to keep me motionless. Instead of waiting for them to magically disappear. Because, let’s be honest, they won’t. They’re here for good. And I can either figure out how to survive with them or just allow way too much of life to continue passing me by.