A New Direction

I am three months in to taking control of my health. I have been thinking about writing about this for a month. The more overwhelmed I get with information, the more I think, "I really need to write about this."

Today is the day I begin. I could write multiple posts leading up to how I got to where I am today, sitting here in my zero gravity recliner, unable to function in the manner I want, but I will try to keep this somewhat brief (as brief as I am capable of being!).

When I was 25 years old, my troubles began. Well, technically, at age 25, I began to FEEL that my troubles were beginning. I woke up one morning to an awful pain in my neck. It was similar to the way your neck feels when you sleep on it funny. You know that pain that just hurts, makes it difficult to move your head, and doesn't go away for at least a week? That kind of pain. It wasn't the first time I had experienced this pain. It was, however, the last time I can remember that I DIDN'T have that kind of pain in my neck to some degree.

Here I sit, 15 years later, with a spine that is in much worse shape than it was when it first began. It took a few years of physical therapy, multiple doctor visits, XRAYs and MRIs and non-stop pain to get a diagnosis: Degenerative Disc Disease. I'm not even getting into the secondary Fibromyalgia diagnosis that causes additional daily pain right now, though there are symptoms there for another day.

Everyone has arthritis and issues with their spine as they age. Degenerative Disc Disease is diagnosed when that normal aging and disc changes in the spine cause pain. A lot of older people begin to experience arthritis, which worsens as they age. So, essentially, I have the body of an 80 year old woman, which would be acceptable, if I wasn't just 40 years old. I am sure that isn't the classical definition, but it's how I think of it.

So at age 25, when my body began to break down at a rapid rate, it changed everything about my life. It really changed who I was as a person. My whole life was turned upside down by the pain that has come with this diagnosis. After a 5 year fight just to convince someone my symptoms were as bad as they were (numbness in my legs, pain in my neck, back, shoulders, inability to turn my neck), I finally was told I needed surgery. This was in 2013. In 2012, I first met with a surgeon. He said that while the disc at C5-6 was in fact herniated and likely causing all of the excruciating pain in my neck, because I didn't have any "neurological symptoms" he didn't think it was time for surgery.

After fighting for a year to get a second opinion (and coincidentally developing horrible neurological symptoms), I found a surgeon and he said that it was indeed time for surgery, and now not only was the disc at C5-6 herniated - so was the disc at C6-7. So in 2013, I had my first neck surgery. The next summer, I had to go back in to re-fuse the disc at level C6-7 because it didn't "take." That time, they took bone from my hip (which was THE WORST!!!) and used it to fuse my neck. It took that time, and I was relieved to finally have some relief. Instead of pain that ranged from 8 to "I-can't-do-this-anymore" every day, my daily pain dropped to about a 4-5 most days. Some days were worse, but never above a 7.


I was able to get relief from my 2014 surgery for about 3 years. Early in 2017, I began having worsening pain, which didn't go away with time, treatment, stretching, etc. It didn't take long for me to realize that I was having the same problems that led to my previous surgery. Here we go again, I thought...

And here we go again we did. These last 2.5 years have been awful. The older I get, the harder it is to deal with the pain. In some ways, you get used to the pain. You adapt. But really, you learn to do less, or do things in a way that will not exacerbate the pain. This does not come without a cost. There are so many things I have lost (without even getting into the emotional side of it), things that I am no longer able to just do, and while it seems ideal to some, it weighs so heavily on me that I can't do basic things (or have to really consider and limit when and how often I do them):

• Dishes
• Laundry
• Cleaning
• Helping with worship at church
• Carrying anything or anyone around (I bring this up because I'm closer to having grand kids than I ever was before and I worry about this fact the more realistic grandchildren become)
• Sitting at work for 40 hours a week
• Doing active things with my kids or husband
• Driving (which makes leaving my house difficult)
• Going to the store
• Personal hobbies (reading, writing, watching TV/movies, crafting...)
• Literally any activity that could jostle my neck or back even a little (think, roller coasters)
• Physical intimacy in my marriage

There is never a moment where I am NOT in pain. Everything I do is done with this overshadowing presence of pain. It is always with me. It is constant. Things like standing for more than a few minutes, sitting or laying in one position for more than 10 minutes, doing anything exercise-related that may exceed 10 minutes, bending, twisting, driving, working, etc...
I am not bedridden. I can walk. I can drive, sometimes. I can cook, sometimes, though it pains me to have almost completely lost the joy of cooking. I can still work, albeit with considerable accommodations for my spine. So, all is not lost. I have 4 amazing kids, most almost fully adults, and I am married to the most patient, supportive, and forgiving man. I serve a God who loves me, and I am aware every day of how much I don't deserve his love, but how grateful I am for it. But some days are worse than others and some days seem pretty bleak. But because I have faith in a God who has proven over and over again how important my little insignificant life is to him, I have hope. Honestly, some days God is the ONLY reason I have any faith at all!

But I have had to come to terms with my life and what it looks like now, which is NOTHING at all like I envisioned when I entered my 20s. Two decades have passed me by, and many of those years I have felt like I was living/functioning at about 20%, on a good day. I have felt distressed about how my children may perceive me, how others may view my work ethic, since I can't be in the office every day, and many other unrealistic fears and things that I realize don't really matter. That doesn't mean I have mastered the art of not caring. It may be something I struggle with until I leave this
earth.

And with all of that, I have come to a decision about my next steps in this long, exhausting, journey, and I am excited to start writing about it and learning a new hobby (and hopefully valuable skill), and hopefully I can dial in a way to finally get my pain under control and keep it that way.


Stay tuned...if you dare...