Category Archives: RSD/CRPS

Life Reimagined: Four Years after RSD/ CRPS, by Rikki Lynn

Four Years After RSD/CRPS

Guest Post by Rikki Lynn

So, Life has become this thing that I now bargain with on a constant basis. Most people do that, I believe. We all say, “Well, if I go to the gym today I won’t have to feel guilty about the ice cream I had after dinner last night”, or “If I take the kids to pizza tonight, I can feel okay leaving them with the sitter tomorrow while I’m at the baby shower for the new co-worker I’m trying to befriend.” So it goes, one long life of never ending compromises. Only mine looks a little different.  


If I grocery shop today, then tomorrow I can rest and the following day I can go to lunch with a friend, stop and get those few things from the store, and maybe get a case of water from Costco if my feet don’t hurt. Then, if by the end of the week, I’m feeling okay, I can try to accomplish the other errands I might still need to get done.


 A full day out running a few errands can quickly end any future plans for the week if I don’t take a rest day between, or make time for healing foot soaks, and be very strict on making sure I’m taking my supplements.

Far gone are the long days of running around accomplishing an entire list of things and still preparing a hot meal and going strong until bed time and still getting up to do it all again the next day, and the next, and the next. That is no longer my life. I miss that life. So many friends think, “Oh, what I wouldn’t give to not have to work” …… I promise if you are one of my friends who thinks that, you would not give what I have given to not work. The cost is way too high a price to pay. I’d gladly work in exchange for a life I can enjoy and one I can dictate my daily routine and plans for. 


Alas, things are what they are, and life is what it is, and so the story goes…make the best of it. We hear that often, don’t we?  But what does that look like, in practice, in real life, played out? 


What can that look like in your life?


Suffering doesn’t always have to be ugly. You can make it sparkly, and it can have its days where it even feels pretty. 
You don’t believe me, I know. I didn’t believe me either when I told myself I didn’t have to suffer the way I was. I have a knack for proving people wrong though, including myself. I’m stubborn like that.

It’s definitely a forced different way to look at life now. Since nothing is the same, nothing’s the same…. so I’m trying to adapt so that not everything is stolen away. I’m trying to find ways to be flexible in the life I’m left with and rearranging things to fit my new life. 


I’m adjusting, and instead of saying ‘no’ to everything …I’m trying my darndest to find new ways to say “maybe” and get creative because “maybe”, just maybe, I can say yes to a few of those things. I’m so dang tired of saying no to everything I once said yes to.  Before you think I’m suggesting everyone or anyone can just ‘do’ all the things we once could, or that any given day we can accomplish these triumphs, I’m not… but once in a while finding creative solutions to things that are bothersome can become things that are fun!!  


So here are a few thoughts to share, just to give you an idea of what I’ve been talking to myself about recently.


 I do some things already on a regular basis like curling my hair or putting makeup on about once a week before my Mister comes home from work so he is greeted with a ‘done up’ woman who looks nice for him. I enjoy that feeling. I am so keenly aware that many of us can not always do this type of thing by ourselves however, and would need help to do our own hair or makeup because of the location of our injury/damage. Well, let’s think creatively…


How about a girl’s night with girlfriends- one of them could host a ‘make up party’ giving each other facials or doing nails and toes  (or whatever you prefer). Someone else can bring treats, ask one to do the arranging and invites, then all you have to do is be present. There are so many types of get-togethers for men and women alike. Party games or activities can be planned, it can be in a house as low-key or action packed as you would want. Everyone can be included to whatever degree fits for them. Often a great source of ideas is Pinterest or Google search baby shower, bridal shower, and party games for adults.  


I truly believe this is an important thing that we should try to do on a regular basis. And I’ve always had that one friend who absolutely loves to entertain, don’t you? It really goes way beyond that.

It’s good to let friends feel like there is something they can do to help, because they often feel like you suffer, but they can’t fix it, or offer any solutions. Involving them in something positive they can do for you actually allows them how to add a meaningful gesture, and that means more to everyone involved. You see, so many of us with chronic pain get stuck being left out of outside activities and eventually left out altogether because people don’t think we can or want to do things and often they are right. We’d say ‘no’ anyhow even if they asked. So, they quit asking us. Our friends feel like they can’t fix our pain, so they feel a sense of ‘helplessness’ that leaves them feeling bad when they are around us. That isn’t our fault obviously, but really it isn’t their fault either. It is human nature to want to solve problems or avoid them. Let’s face it, chronic pain is a problem. At least it feels like one to most people who have to live with it in their life in any capacity at all, even at a distance. People tend to avoid what they don’t know how to fix. We tend to feel neglected, and then rejected, and then hurt, and then angry.  The whole thing is more of a misunderstanding than it is an actual problem that can not be solved.  We can give our friends tools to be involved and active in our new lives, but WE have to be the ones to say what we need from them, exactly how it should look, and we should not expect it all to be ‘a pain in the butt’ as it were. WE, as chronic pain patients, need to (yes I know I hate it too) do one more thing to add to our never ending list of ways we have to change our lives, but we must make a mental note to give our friends and family the opportunity to create fun and memorable moments in our lives. We can do that. Even if we can not get out of bed, they can come and sing for us, read poetry, paint for us, show us pictures of things outside they saw during the week, tell us about their week…but not the boring stuff…ask about random things! Have them do a mental note to seek out certain things for you while they are out- like how many times did they see something with an elephant on it? (Or whatever your favorite animal might be.) Maybe ask them to try to notice if they see it and keep track of where they were and how many times and to snap pics if they have the chance to….  it becomes a way for them to connect to you from where they are and for them to remember that they have the chance to bring you into their day and to bring their day to you at the chance when you get together they can share those moments and hopefully share what they thought about at the moment.  Maybe you set out certain goals for certain friends that you know will help them do something fun for themselves that you know they might not do otherwise but you push them to do because you can’t do it…so you become their reason and you live vicariously through them…not as fun I know, but how great to be an inspiration to another human.  Maybe you just sit on a blanket in your back yard with your pet and you talk about the things you wish you had done with your life while you had your health, and you figure out if there is an alternative way to do something similar to any of those things from a different vantage point-or in a different capacity than you once had imagined. 


Life is all about the art of being flexible and adapting to whatever comes our way. We surely got dealt a hand that doesn’t look the way we wanted it to, some of us can’t even use our hands anymore at all….mine are much more painful than they once were but still useful to a degree at least for now.  My attitude, my will, my mind, my nerve, my grit, my relentless pursuit of life, those are all things that this pain can not take from me without my consent. I will not give it. I will continue to find ways to bring life to my door, to barter with my body for one more day and find a way to love this life despite the pain. For me, life is about living it with my arms wide open. Some days I can hardly lift my arms and every great once in a while I can dance …. I choose to celebrate the days I can dance and to plan for the next one that comes along, hoping I can wear heels 😉  I choose to be that kinda’ girl.  We can do this- together, we can find ways to cope, to manage, to lift each other up, to share a smile across the miles, to learn from one another, to gain new tools that help us manage better, to be there for each other in the hardest, darkest moments.

WE can do this because WE ARE WARRIORS and we will not go down without a fight!


Part of that fight might be a pajama party with a pillow fight and ‘The Notebook’ on the tv,  and it may even be in the middle of the day if it needs to be- only one other friend there if that’s what it takes. We have to find those moments. 


Make life come to you if you can’t go to it. 


Don’t feel like you have to lose your life because you have to say no to things. Find things to say YES to…and create things you can get your friends to say YES to as well ❤

 

               *********

This is the 3rd year Rikki has shared her experience with us. Read her thoughts in her first year after diagnosis here in “Broken things can be Fixed”. As her life changed due to CRPS/RSD, you can read how she changed with it in her second submission here in “Flow like Water”. Rikki has been so generous to share her heart with us, allowing us insight into her ever-evolving life as she learns and grows through CRPS/RSD. Each post is insightful on its own, but I encourage you to take the time to read all three as a trilogy. Thank you so much for sharing your beautiful soul with us, Rikki! It is always my privilege to feature your work!

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Flow Like Water: Reflections on CRPS / RSD year 2- Guestpost by Rikki Smith

“Flow Like Water” is Rikki’s year 2 reflection of life with CRPS/RSD. Please read her brand new guest piece, published today.

aBodyofHope

I Never thought You Could get a Disease From a Car wreck RSD CRPS

I never thought a car wreck that did damage to my elbow

would stop me from walking an entire year later.  I never thought you could get a disease from a car wreck.

I never thought I would have to depend on anyone else
to get me through tough times in my life.

I never thought I would face an uncertain future
without the ability to answer the tough questions.

I am by nature a very opinionated, strong minded, determined and focused individual. Having my life turned upside down by an unforeseen event is not in anyone’s plans of course, but, the thought of it was always something I thought I knew exactly how I’d handle as a ‘strong and independent woman’. Little did I know that my ultimate undoing would also be the one thing that allowed me to become more whole as a person.

Looking back on…

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Broken Things Can Be Fixed, First year with CRPS by Rikki Lynn

“Broken Things Can be Fixed” is Rikki’s year one guest post- one of our very first guest contributions. Today she’s sharing her year 4 thoughts on her CRPS journey with us.

aBodyofHope

Strong Enough Poster | Broken Things can be Rebuilt article #spoonie #RSD #CRPS #Fibro #MS #CFS #Chiari #Migraine #invisibleillness #chronicpain

Being Broken, I roll over and apologize yet again. I am sorry I am broken. I mean it when I say it.

Agonizing pain makes me the unbearable one. I moan, I cry, I writhe in pain. That isn’t what really hurts. The real pain comes when it wakes you up. When this beast reaches past me and begins its assault on you. It strikes again in the middle of the day when a young boy wants to play and have fun, but he can’t ask because he loves me and he sees that I am in agony. So he suffers quietly trying not to be hurt that he can’t ask. Always the thoughtful loving child he would not want me to suffer. I don’t want him to suffer and feel alone even in my presence. This disease spreads the pain far beyond my arm, my leg, etc…

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Going Dim by Cammie LaValle, A CRPS Story, Part 1

Going Dim

Part I of II- By guest writer Cammie LaValle, 2016

 

(trigger warning)
Going Dim by Cammie LaValle
Photos of Cammie taken on the same day.

 

Remember that light inside of you that used to shine?  We reminisce about it in our heads; back to that person we used to be.  That silent yet screaming conversation in our minds we have on a daily basis.  For some, it’s the majority of the actual conversing we do and sadly, it’s only with ourselves.  We are feeling ourselves; our internal light- the fire that once helped us accomplish so many things in life, is now reduced to less than a flame, more like a sad, almost non-existent spark which could barely keep a match lit.

 

Sure, there are flickers of hope and tiny little fires at times; but personally, they are getting few and far between.  I have not given up all hope, but I am struggling to keep the grasp.

One of my motto’s is “Let Your Soul Shine” taken from a song.   How hypocritical of me to tell others to do just that when I am watching, feeling and experiencing my own go darker and darker every day.  I don’t mean dark as in evil, although I will admit I’ve had some pretty evil scenarios which I wish would play out in the lives of some of the doctors I have encountered in the last few years.   No, I would not harm anyone; but as you read that, I am certain you can recall one of those thoughts that has played out in your mind so detailed as though you were actually plotting a dismemberment.  I for one thought a log-splitter would suffice.

 

As I am writing this, I have backspaced hundreds of times thinking what I have to say or what I feel is not ready to be heard or will be perceived as seeking pity, over reacting, not being thankful for what I do have or God forbid, the “It could be worse” reaction we often get.  Yes, we all comprehend that, but more often than not, it is far from a supportive statement as we perceive it.  Minimizing our hell is what most of us feel; even though we know most of you mean well when it’s said.  But I realized the words I put down, if were written by someone else and read by me, are exactly the words I would need to hear; and yearn to hear.

So without a hesitant mind, and the pain jolting through my body and hands, I shall spill the complete ugly truth that I am not shining by any means.  I’ve gone dim.   This is not news to some; as they know me too well to believe the crap that spews out of my mouth when I say “I’m fine.”

 

I ask myself daily, how much more can I handle?  Do I even want to for that matter?  Yes, those thoughts are there when in my dimmest hours.  Will I say it out loud?  Probably not.  Will I say it here, when I know others just like me are reading this; yes, yes I will.  I can’t say I am proud of my thoughts, but I can say I am not about to blow sunshine up anyone’s ass; especially knowing the people reading this are struggling right along with me.   That’s not what we need and I may very well do it to others so they don’t have to worry about me, but I will not do it to you.  I know that sounds terrible as I have more than likely never met or ever will meet 99.999 % of you.  Why be truthful to people I don’t know and hide and lie to my own family and friends?  I have no clue the rationale behind this and won’t pretend I do either.  What I do know is that there is a greater chance those reading this, understand it to their core and need no explanation of the words, the thoughts, the expressions, the pain, the isolation, the self-doubt, and the meaning behind “Going Dim”.  I fully understand all humans go through struggles in life and I am not discounting any of that; anyone or any struggle of any kind.  I am addressing our struggle.

I am opening up my broken spirit and soul, my tired mind, and using my pain riddled body, to let YOU know, you are far from alone in this battle.  And I may be writing what you can’t dare to say out loud, but feel it as if it has taken over your entire being.  I know I have read some stories which after the first sentence I felt the lump in my throat.  I certainly am not sharing to cause distress or any tears, but if anyone reading this has that lump, let yourself feel the emotion and release some of that internal pain that is eating you alive and has taken over a portion of your soul.

 

More than likely you have caught on that I have not begun to describe the pain.  If you are reading this, you already know how it will read.  However, for those friends or family that are reading this who have a loved one suffering, I will follow this with a brutal truth that the one you know, who is  suffering, is too damn scared to tell you.  Whether it be pride, or wanting the world to believe we can handle this, or the complete farce we muster up in order to appear stronger than we actually feel.    Your loved one has gone dim.  And you might have as well; attempting to care for them.   Addressing the other side of this is just as important as addressing ourselves.

The ME I once was, is still seen by my husband and some family and friends; however, I don’t see her.  I feel as if she’s gone for good.  I talk with her in my mind and actually pray she will come back, somehow, some way.  She could light up a room (from what I was told).  She was vibrant, funny, witty, intelligent, strong, hard-working, worthy, helpful, selfless, and although some deep down pain existed as we all have and hide; she was happy.   She helped raise 2 children, who she loves.  She was a good wife, a good friend, a reliable sister and had worked since a very young age; worked her ass off.  Now, the relentless quest for her to return has come up empty.  She was me.  I was her.  We’ve both gone dim.

 

Where did she go?  CRPS (full body), Fibromyalgia in addition about a dozen other health issues; some quite severe, has held her captive and the ransom demand at this time cannot be met.  The hope and flicker of light is diminishing.  Sure, I say I am hopeful and staying positive, but who am I kidding?  It’s gradually becoming such a farce, I can barely hold back the tears when I say I am still positive.  It’s a blatant lie.  I feel as if I am getting a very real glimpse of Hell.

 

Ice pick, razor blade, vice, hammer, pins, needles, knife, match, truck, salt, gasoline, fire, electric shock and flames; all of which I feel has been used during this captivity.  A scene from a mysterious attempted murder movie in which we wait in the trunk to be rescued.  Someone on the outside may not comprehend that comparison, but I, along with so many others; truly feel this.  And the trunk is our lives at times.  That dim, cold, dark, isolated place, we don’t willingly go to, but find ourselves there, stuck; more often than not.  The tools used is what we compare our pain to; as CRPS/RSD plays out such a brutal attack on our bodies daily.  As we wait for the ransom, which in our lives is a doctor, a treatment, a cure, we succumb to this attack and 24/7 try to prepare ourselves for the next dreadful blow.  I try to hold it in as to not be a burden; not wanting people to see how bad it is.  There are times it just comes out, screaming, howling, paralyzing pain to the point I can barely breathe.  Arms, legs, feet, back, hips, face, ears, chest pain where it feels like I am having a heart attack, but I know I am not.  Then I think, what if I do have a heart attack?  If I feel like that daily, if I have one, will I even know?  And my hypertension gets so out of control, my neck feels like I am being stabbed, my vision gets blurry, I lose minutes and have lost recollection of hours of time.  I get scared to be alone in my own home.  This scares the sh*t out of me!  On nights the blood pressure is too high and the chest pain is severe, I am too damn scared to go to sleep as I honestly wonder if I will wake up.  Yes, that is how my mind works.  I pray I wake up.  I won’t go into the thoughts and prayers that go on, when I honestly question if my life, as I know it, is actually ending that evening.   This is brutally honest and I know it sounds far-fetched to some.  But, many reading this feel the same way or have felt the same way.  I am saying it now, to give you some peace of mind that you are far from alone.   It is not by any means a healthy way of thinking, but it is where one’s mind tends to go at times.  I am not proud of these thoughts, but they are true.

 

Pain changes people.  It’s relentless.  The beast wins in those moments and all I can do is wait for it to let go of its ever so tight grip of my body.  I think to myself during these times, how the hell am I to live this way?  How is my husband to live this way, with his wife being consumed by pain, lost herself and her feeling of self-worth?  I am not the woman he married.  Far, far from it.  He is my biggest advocate and has not left my side, although I wouldn’t blame him.  His wife is gone.  The anxiety, stress and depression that goes along with this beast leads my mind to wonder “when” he will have had enough; not “if”.  For better or worse, sickness and in health, meant something to him, just as it did and does to me.  How lucky am I to have such a man who took his vows so serious, that as he watches his wife diminish and change into someone he didn’t marry, he continues to assure me we are in this together and he will never leave my side.  He is the only one who can make these demons stop in my head.  He is the only one who has seen it all and still has faith I will come out of it; come back as the woman he married; come back from “Going Dim”.

 

What has brought you to this page, is why many of you will understand what I am about to say next.  You are dim yourself from disease and pain or you are caring for someone and are desperately trying to find a way to understand and help that person; your loved one.   (For those seeking help to care for another – THANK YOU!  Sadly enough, you may be the only one doing so for that lost screaming soul).

 

Too many are left alone and instead of having support in waiting for that ransom, they remain in the trunk; dim, isolated, begging for relief, kicking and screaming to get out; get help and for someone to actually listen.  When there is never a response, those broken souls take it upon themselves to put an end to their private mysterious movie which is their life.   They don’t think they can handle the next blow, they have been disregarded by doctors, family, friends and in their mind; the world.

 

Pain messes with your mind.  Even those who truly have support; at times feel like an overwhelming burden to everyone, isolated and alone (even if the room is filled with 20 people) and misunderstood, they would rather not be on this earth for one more second of pain or one more feeling of being dismissed by a friend or loved one.  That emotional pain alone when one’s suffering is dismissed; as if we are over-reacting to a common cold; could and has triggered people in pain to start planning their demise, as it is too much for them in their broken mind and body to fight anymore.  Death, in their mind, however wrong one deems that thought process; is what they are contemplating.  If you think this is reaching; just read through posts in some of your or your loved one’s support groups.

Daily, I see people tell people they never met, that they “can’t handle it anymore”, “I just want to end it”.  Keep in mind, if you look at their FB page, or Twitter, or recall a recent phone call, most would have just said or posted on how great their day was.  “I am fine.”  It’s a farce, which most of us continue to do; as to not upset our family or friends with our true feelings and pain, or to not be honest with people we actually know because we’ve been dismissed too many times and are broken to the point that some knowingly make a decision to NEVER again speak to a loved one, hug a family member; and even their own children; as their mind has told them it’s easier to die than live.

 

How sad is that?  Are they selfish?  When people take their lives due to pain, any type of pain; they cannot comprehend the ramifications other than they no longer will have pain.  So completely torn down, the thought their child will lose their parent, is not strong enough to stop them.  How in the hell is our society missing this?  How are family and friends missing this?   How are people in pain getting to this point?  Whether it be lack of treatment, lack of cure, lack of support or the mind games played out in your head when your pain takes over your life; it must, meaning right now, start being addressed.

Are you thinking your life is not worth it anymore?  Well, it is.  You don’t see it, but others do.  And I beg anyone reading this, to reach out to someone. I can almost guarantee these thoughts have gradually entered the minds of your loved one who experiences 24/7 pain; not remembering a day without it.  And if someone asks you, be honest.  I have uttered the words I’m fine for the majority of my life; over half of which has been in chronic pain.  I hid so many things from even my family; out of pride and factors which stem from my childhood, some of my own family do not believe I am in such a state of despair and pain; broken down with a tired soul and body that feels useless.  I hid for too long.  Yes, it’s my fault for putting on the mask.  I was and at times still very good at it.   A habit very hard to break.

It’s natural for me to pretend I am okay; for I’ve done it all my life in one way or another just like most of humanity in some aspect.  However, I am removing it now and so should you.   This does not give us the right to become an un-consolable hot mess of a person; but it does give us power to deal with what is behind the mask; our true selves.  It certainly will not be easy, but how worn out are you right now reading this?   My soul is tired and there is no amount of sleep in which can awaken it.

 

“Live without living?”  What does that mean?  If you ask that question, you have yet to comprehend how our minds work; how we feel & what this has done to us.  Or better said, what it has done with the person we once were.  The reason I; we’ve gone dim.   We strive to live better and we do anything and everything to get there.  Find relief, find a new normal, find peace, find understanding, find faith, find God, find a way; find ourselves.  I am trying and I have resorted to begging at times just to get a doctor to listen to me.   Most ignore it; but I’ve been lucky to find one that listened; one who upheld his oath.   One who has promised to help me find a way, a new normal, and a treatment in which I can maybe, just maybe, have a chance at finding myself again.  I don’t trust many, but trusted him and have for over 10 years.  Due to this trust and mutual respect between a doctor and a patient, I have a chance; a slight flicker of light in my dim world which I am grasping onto so tight, if I were to let go I feel as if I would crumble; again.

 

You see, although I’ve gone dim like many of you reading this, I also found HOPE and it was due to raising some hell and advocating for myself and not shutting up when I was told NO.  I kept going, I kept calling, I kept writing; I kept fighting.  I am still dim, but I have seen the flicker of light; that same light which could let “My Soul Shine”.  I don’t know if it will, but I’ll be damned if I’m not going to try.  I deserve it; as do you.

 

I started writing this 8 months ago.  When I started, I was in my darkest times.  I thought about deleting those parts; but that would be me lying to you, and again, as life has taught me, continue to pretend I am okay when I am not.   So I hope when you started reading, you felt you were no longer alone in the pain, the dark thoughts, the hopelessness, sadness and you knew, in your heart and soul, there are others like you.  And as you read on, you found understanding, a bond with someone you probably will never meet.  A bond due to pain, no one wants, but one everyone needs so they don’t feel alone and don’t ever think tomorrow is not worth waking up to.

******

I’m honored to share this project by chronic illness activist, guest writer Cammie LaValle, featured for CRPS/RSD Awareness Month. She’s not only a personal friend I met in the chronic pain community, but she’s a personal inspiration to me as well as so many others. She leads the charge in fighting campaigns for chronic pain and rare disease causes with the tenacity like none I’ve seen before, whilst attacking her disease with the same vigor. I’m proud to be in the same warrior club with a woman like Cammie, as I have learned much from her. Read more RSD/CRPS articles, see art projects, poems, and survival stories here. Talk to others with CRPS/RSD here. Article originally published in 2016.
Thank you for visiting and sharing, -Mary

 

Sale on RSD CRPS Awareness Apparel!

I first began making shirt designs when the people in my RSD support group were distressed about medical staff touching or grabbing their painful, swollen limbs. I’ve experienced the same issue with doctors, nurses, and out in public. The first shirt was really a collaberation with many other women and men seeking a solution to this terrifying issue. This was the first design, and there are a few others which are similar. 

Since then, I’ve been adding different items to the shop bit by bit over the years. I hope it will raise a little awareness out there!

There’s usually a thread of playfulness running through my designs. Pain isn’t silly by any means, but how we present it can help others absorb it better.

  

The designs in the shop are either for people with Chronic Illness, or inspirational quotes. 

I’ve been creating more items with quotes from the blog lately. This is my favorite so far. I like to wear it when I’m going through an especially difficult time, as a reminder to myself. I think this slouchy, batwing fit looks great on every body type, too. 

Zazzle takes care of payment, printing, and shipping, and the proceeds I receive as a designer go toward rare disease research like RSDSA or NORD. You can customize anything you see. The shirt designs can be printed on many other items, and the quotes displayed on tops are not limited to women’s, or any particular style. They are only displays. 

There’s a sitewide sale this week! Just in time for RSD Awareness Month! Pop by, and peek in!

 https://www.zazzle.com/mixypixie/products

If you have a suggestion for a shirt or item, please comment below or email me at abodyofhope@mail.com 

Chronic Illness and Surrender

Oh friends, life is such a journey…. faith is such a journey. And I must admit that I get very weary. Like ground down to a fine powder kind of weary.

It is easy to say that God is in control. I know some who revert to that message like it is their refrain between sentences. We continue to push and plan and overcome, and then get angry at Him when WE fail.

When I was diagnosed with chronic pain in 2004, I felt like my adult life was just getting rolling. I had big dreams, and I was determined to keep moving forward with my own plans. 

My body was deteriorating quickly, however. I was taking so many medications, doing bizarre and worsening treatments as an attempt to keep up with family, home, work, college, church, small group, and any of my spare time I spent in a zombified pain daze on the couch. 

No matter what walking aids I needed, no matter the sickening treatment, no matter what the doctors said about “progression,” I WOULD NOT be diverted from achieving my original goals. 

I was in control

Though my body lashed back at me, I fought and squirmed and raged against it- to keep going on my path


Surrender is a difficult topic or act for most of us to comprehend.

I have always struggled to relinquish control, so everything about the idea of surrender goes against my nature. I wonder if anyone else reading this can relate to the word perfectionist as much as I could?

Years ago, when I was having ketamine infusions to try to tame my RSD/CRPS pain, I would interfere with the nurse’s vitals setup. In my mind I was helping, but to them I was only getting in the way, of course. 

“Do you want to do this yourself?” a nurse once snapped at me. 

Oops, I thought. But then…I knew my answer would have been, “yes.”

Why? Why do I think I’m the one who will always be most effective at doing for myself, even when others have my very best interest in mind? 

Then 6 years ago, after an experimental treatment they tried on me failed, I suddenly developed several comorbidities which have changed my life dramatically. My pain condition progressed far faster and worse than I ever imagined possible.

They say, don’t let chronic illness take over your life. But when your life becomes about: Breathing. Eating. Drinking. There is no “let” only “become.” 

Illness can become your life if survival becomes your new goal

There are some conditions you can’t fight through. You endure them. They change your body, and you are forced to adapt. You hit your “wall” every time you open your eyes. 

Surrender is the choice that my body made for me. It tells me I don’t have another option but to bow to its wishes.

I lay here still and unspeaking, careful not to sway the already offset balance. But the moment I move or eat or swallow or make a sound, my flesh laughs at me. My already swirling, screaming, breath-begging body will burst into flames and melt into nothingness. 

The world tells me to push, to fight, to Just. Keep. Going.

But I learn quickly that there is no push  in this game. Only tricks, and cheats, and strategy. 

It’s a chess match on a board I’ve never seen before, and my opponent is the only one with the rulebook.

Illness owns my body. 

There is no free will flesh. There is no- push for one more minute.  There is no- if I just take this pill.

This body has been exchanged, kidnapped, swapped for a rag doll.

Once, asking for help seemed an impossible exception only made in the most dire of circumstances. 

Now, all of my physical and earthly necessities selflessly come from the hands of those I most admire. The eyes I have always looked up to- now see me at my worst. My body gives me no choice but to surrender to their gentle hands, but my heart is humbled and grateful to receive the gifts of their bottomless compassion. What better picture of mercy than this? 

What better picture of grace?

Control freak. Feeling like a freak of nature. My natural systems are out of control. And nothing can be done, but wait. But pray. 

Miss “plan for tomorrow.” Plan for your dreams. Dream big. Don’t give up. Your body gives up.

My body forces surrender on its own schedule- though my Creator waits patiently. While my body may act as a prison, forcing the white flag of my systems- my spirit goes of its own fruition. The more I relinquish control, the more grace is endowed.

God is in control, they say. They say it like an empty cliche. 

Control is something I have owned. And something that has owned me. And God doesn’t control my will. I surrender it to Him. Child to Father. Tired, weak soul to loving, strength-lending Savior. 

In this broken body, I see freedom.

(Re-posted from 2015)

Going Dim by Cammie LaValle, Part 1

 

Going Dim

Part I of II – By guestwriter Cammie LaValle

(trigger warning)
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Picture of Cammie taken on the same day.

 

Remember that light inside of you that used to shine?  We reminisce about it in our heads; to that person we used to be.  That silent yet screaming conversation in our minds we have on a daily basis.  For some, it’s the majority of the actual conversing we do and sadly, it’s only with ourselves.  We are feeling ourselves; our internal light; the fire that once helped us accomplish so many things in life, be reduced to less than a flame; more like a sad, almost non-existent spark which could barely keep a match lit.

 

Sure, there are flickers of hope and tiny little fires at times; but personally, they are getting few and far between.  I have not given up all hope, but I am struggling to keep the grasp.

 

One of my motto’s is “Let Your Soul Shine” taken from a song.   How hypocritical of me to tell others to do just that when I am watching, feeling and experiencing my own go darker and darker every day.  I don’t mean dark as in evil, although I will admit I’ve had some pretty evil scenarios which I wish would play out in the lives of some of the doctors I have encountered in the last few years.   No, I would not harm anyone; but as you read that, I am certain you can recall one of those thoughts that has played out in your mind so detailed as though you were actually plotting a dismemberment.  I for one thought a log-splitter would suffice.

 

As I am writing this, I have backspaced hundreds of times thinking what I have to say or what I feel is not ready to be heard or will be perceived as seeking pity, over reacting, not being thankful for what I do have or God forbid, the “It could be worse” reaction we often get.  Yes, we all comprehend that, but more often than not, it is far from a supportive statement as we perceive it.  Minimizing our hell is what most of us feel; even though we know most of you mean well when it’s said.  But I realized the words I put down, if were written by someone else and read by me, are exactly the words I would need to hear; and yearn to hear.   So without a hesitant mind, and the pain jolting through my body and hands, I shall spill the complete ugly truth that I am not shining by any means.  I’ve gone dim.   This is not news to some; as they know me too well to believe the crap that spews out of my mouth when I say “I’m fine.”

 

I ask myself daily, how much more can I handle?  Do I even want to for that matter?  Yes, those thoughts are there when in my dimmest hours.  Will I say it out loud?  Probably not.  Will I say it here, when I know others just like me are reading this; yes, yes I will.  I can’t say I am proud of my thoughts, but I can say I am not about to blow sunshine up anyone’s ass; especially knowing the people reading this are struggling right along with me.   That’s not what we need and I may very well do it to others so they don’t have to worry about me, but I will not do it to you.  I know that sounds terrible as I have more than likely never met or ever will meet 99.999 % of you.  Why be truthful to people I don’t know and hide and lie to my own family and friends?  I have no clue the rationale behind this and won’t pretend I do either.  What I do know is that there is a greater chance those reading this, understand it to their core and need no explanation of the words, the thoughts, the expressions, the pain, the isolation, the self-doubt, and the meaning behind “Going Dim”.  I fully understand all humans go through struggles in life and I am not discounting any of that; anyone or any struggle of any kind.  I am addressing our struggle.

I am opening up my broken spirit and soul, my tired mind, and using my pain riddled body, to let YOU know, you are far from alone in this battle.  And I may be writing what you can’t dare to say out loud, but feel it as if it has taken over your entire being.  I know I have read some stories which after the first sentence I felt the lump in my throat.  I certainly am not sharing to cause distress or any tears, but if anyone reading this has that lump, let yourself feel the emotion and release some of that internal pain that is eating you alive and has taken over a portion of your soul.

 

More than likely you have caught on that I have not begun to describe the pain.  If you are reading this, you already know how it will read.  However, for those friends or family that are reading this who have a loved one suffering, I will follow this with a brutal truth that the one you know, who is  suffering, is too damn scared to tell you.  Whether it be pride, or wanting the world to believe we can handle this, or the complete farce we muster up in order to appear stronger than we actually feel.    Your loved one has gone dim.  And you might have as well; attempting to care for them.   Addressing the other side of this is just as important as addressing ourselves.

The ME I once was, is still seen by my husband and some family and friends; however, I don’t see her.  I feel as if she’s gone for good.  I talk with her in my mind and actually pray she will come back, somehow, some way.  She could light up a room (from what I was told).  She was vibrant, funny, witty, intelligent, strong, hard-working, worthy, helpful, selfless, and although some deep down pain existed as we all have and hide; she was happy.   She helped raise 2 children, who she loves.  She was a good wife, a good friend, a reliable sister and had worked since a very young age; worked her ass off.  Now, the relentless quest for her to return has come up empty.  She was me.  I was her.  We’ve both gone dim.

 

Where did she go?  CRPS (full body), Fibromyalgia in addition about a dozen other health issues; some quite severe, has held her captive and the ransom demand at this time cannot be met.  The hope and flicker of light is diminishing.  Sure, I say I am hopeful and staying positive, but who am I kidding?  It’s gradually becoming such a farce, I can barely hold back the tears when I say I am still positive.  It’s a blatant lie.  I feel as if I am getting a very real glimpse of Hell.

 

Ice pick, razor blade, vice, hammer, pins, needles, knife, match, truck, salt, gasoline, fire, electric shock and flames; all of which I feel has been used during this captivity.  A scene from a mysterious attempted murder movie in which we wait in the trunk to be rescued.  Someone on the outside may not comprehend that comparison, but I, along with so many others; truly feel this.  And the trunk is our lives at times.  That dim, cold, dark, isolated place, we don’t willingly go to, but find ourselves there, stuck; more often than not.  The tools used is what we compare our pain to; as CRPS/RSD plays out such a brutal attack on our bodies daily.  As we wait for the ransom, which in our lives is a doctor, a treatment, a cure, we succumb to this attack and 24/7 try to prepare ourselves for the next dreadful blow.  I try to hold it in as to not be a burden; not wanting people to see how bad it is.  There are times it just comes out, screaming, howling, paralyzing pain to the point I can barely breathe.  Arms, legs, feet, back, hips, face, ears, chest pain where it feels like I am having a heart attack, but I know I am not.  Then I think, what if I do have a heart attack?  If I feel like that daily, if I have one, will I even know?  And my hypertension gets so out of control, my neck feels like I am being stabbed, my vision gets blurry, I lose minutes and have lost recollection of hours of time.  I get scared to be alone in my own home.  This scares the sh*t out of me!  On nights the blood pressure is too high and the chest pain is severe, I am too damn scared to go to sleep as I honestly wonder if I will wake up.  Yes, that is how my mind works.  I pray I wake up.  I won’t go into the thoughts and prayers that go on, when I honestly question if my life, as I know it, is actually ending that evening.   This is brutally honest and I know it sounds far-fetched to some.  But, many reading this feel the same way or have felt the same way.  I am saying it now, to give you some peace of mind that you are far from alone.   It is not by any means a healthy way of thinking, but it is where one’s mind tends to go at times.  I am not proud of these thoughts, but they are true.

 

Pain changes people.  It’s relentless.  The beast wins in those moments and all I can do is wait for it to let go of its ever so tight grip of my body.  I think to myself during these times, how the hell am I to live this way?  How is my husband to live this way, with his wife being consumed by pain, lost herself and her feeling of self-worth?  I am not the woman he married.  Far, far from it.  He is my biggest advocate and has not left my side, although I wouldn’t blame him.  His wife is gone.  The anxiety, stress and depression that goes along with this beast leads my mind to wonder “when” he will have had enough; not “if”.  For better or worse, sickness and in health, meant something to him, just as it did and does to me.  How lucky am I to have such a man who took his vows so serious, that as he watches his wife diminish and change into someone he didn’t marry, he continues to assure me we are in this together and he will never leave my side.  He is the only one who can make these demons stop in my head.  He is the only one who has seen it all and still has faith I will come out of it; come back as the woman he married; come back from “Going Dim”.

 

What has brought you to this page, is why many of you will understand what I am about to say next.  You are dim yourself from disease and pain or you are caring for someone and are desperately trying to find a way to understand and help that person; your loved one.   (For those seeking help to care for another – THANK YOU!  Sadly enough, you may be the only one doing so for that lost screaming soul).

 

Too many are left alone and instead of having support in waiting for that ransom, they remain in the trunk; dim, isolated, begging for relief, kicking and screaming to get out; get help and for someone to actually listen.  When there is never a response, those broken souls take it upon themselves to put an end to their private mysterious movie which is their life.   They don’t think they can handle the next blow, they have been disregarded by doctors, family, friends and in their mind; the world.

 

Pain messes with your mind.  Even those who truly have support; at times feel like an overwhelming burden to everyone, isolated and alone (even if the room is filled with 20 people) and misunderstood, they would rather not be on this earth for one more second of pain or one more feeling of being dismissed by a friend or loved one.  That emotional pain alone when one’s suffering is dismissed; as if we are over-reacting to a common cold; could and has triggered people in pain to start planning their demise, as it is too much for them in their broken mind and body to fight anymore.  Death, in their mind, however wrong one deems that thought process; is what they are contemplating.  If you think this is reaching; just read through posts in some of your or your loved one’s support groups.

Daily, I see people tell people they never met, that they “can’t handle it anymore”, “I just want to end it”.  Keep in mind, if you look at their FB page, or Twitter, or recall a recent phone call, most would have just said or posted on how great their day was.  “I am fine.”  It’s a farce, which most of us continue to do; as to not upset our family or friends with our true feelings and pain, or to not be honest with people we actually know because we’ve been dismissed too many times and are broken to the point that some knowingly make a decision to NEVER again speak to a loved one, hug a family member; and even their own children; as their mind has told them it’s easier to die than live.

 

How sad is that?  Are they selfish?  When people take their lives due to pain, any type of pain; they cannot comprehend the ramifications other than they no longer will have pain.  So completely torn down, the thought their child will lose their parent, is not strong enough to stop them.  How in the hell is our society missing this?  How are family and friends missing this?   How are people in pain getting to this point?  Whether it be lack of treatment, lack of cure, lack of support or the mind games played out in your head when your pain takes over your life; it must, meaning right now, start being addressed.  

Are you thinking your life is not worth it anymore?  Well, it is.  You don’t see it, but others do.  And I beg anyone reading this, to reach out to someone. I can almost guarantee these thoughts have gradually entered the minds of your loved one who experiences 24/7 pain; not remembering a day without it.  And if someone asks you, be honest.  I have uttered the words I’m fine for the majority of my life; over half of which has been in chronic pain.  I hid so many things from even my family; out of pride and factors which stem from my childhood, some of my own family do not believe I am in such a state of despair and pain; broken down with a tired soul and body that feels useless.  I hid for too long.  Yes, it’s my fault for putting on the mask.  I was and at times still very good at it.   A habit very hard to break.

It’s natural for me to pretend I am okay; for I’ve done it all my life in one way or another just like most of humanity in some aspect.  However, I am removing it now and so should you.   This does not give us the right to become an un-consolable hot mess of a person; but it does give us power to deal with what is behind the mask; our true selves.  It certainly will not be easy, but how worn out are you right now reading this?   My soul is tired and there is no amount of sleep in which can awaken it.

 

“Live without living?”  What does that mean?  If you ask that question, you have yet to comprehend how our minds work; how we feel & what this has done to us.  Or better said, what it has done with the person we once were.  The reason I; we’ve gone dim.   We strive to live better and we do anything and everything to get there.  Find relief, find a new normal, find peace, find understanding, find faith, find God, find a way; find ourselves.  I am trying and I have resorted to begging at times just to get a doctor to listen to me.   Most ignore it; but I’ve been lucky to find one that listened; one who upheld his oath.   One who has promised to help me find a way, a new normal, and a treatment in which I can maybe, just maybe, have a chance at finding myself again.  I don’t trust many, but trusted him and have for over 10 years.  Due to this trust and mutual respect between a doctor and a patient, I have a chance; a slight flicker of light in my dim world which I am grasping onto so tight, if I were to let go I feel as if I would crumble; again.

 

You see, although I’ve gone dim like many of you reading this, I also found HOPE and it was due to raising some hell and advocating for myself and not shutting up when I was told NO.  I kept going, I kept calling, I kept writing; I kept fighting.  I am still dim, but I have seen the flicker of light; that same light which could let “My Soul Shine”.  I don’t know if it will, but I’ll be damned if I’m not going to try.  I deserve it; as do you.

 

I started writing this 8 months ago.  When I started, I was in my darkest times.  I thought about deleting those parts; but that would be me lying to you, and again, as life has taught me, continue to pretend I am okay when I am not.   So I hope when you started reading, you felt you were no longer alone in the pain, the dark thoughts, the hopelessness, sadness and you knew, in your heart and soul, there are others like you.  And as you read on, you found understanding, a bond with someone you probably will never meet.  A bond due to pain, no one wants, but one everyone needs so they don’t feel alone and don’t ever think tomorrow is not worth waking up to.

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I’m honored to share this project by chronic illness activist, guest writer Cammie LaValle, featured for CRPS/RSD Awareness Month. She’s not only a personal friend I met in the chronic pain community, but she’s a personal inspiration to me as well as so many others. She leads the charge in fighting campaigns for chronic pain and rare disease causes with the tenacity like none I’ve seen before, whilst attacking her disease with the same vigor. I’m proud to be in the same warrior club with a woman like Cammie, as I have learned much from her. Read more RSD/CRPS articles, see art projects, poems, and survival stories here.
Thank you for visiting and sharing -Mary

Cure Worship, Illness Gratitude, & Finding the balance between

To be thankful while you are suffering is one thing, but to be thankful for suffering….

Once in a while in the support group I administrate, there is someone who makes a statement that is so powerful, it catches me off guard and it sets my soul on fire. In truth, this isn’t a rare occurrence. I guess you could say that those suffering so deeply every single moment of the day have some profound insights to share. One thing that inspires me the most is when people say they are thankful for their illness. That is a bold statement that I believe one would never come to lightly- and no one would EVER openly say something so provocative in a support group setting among a band of individuals with severe chronic diseases, unless they truly meant it. That’s why it always gives me pause whenever I hear such powerful expressions.

It’s not unusual for those who go through a near death experience or a serious short term illness to find deeper meaning and purpose. It’s no less real, but it is more common when the storms have an end, and suffering can be left behind. While it’s not rare for those with ongoing illness to eventually find new ways to appreciate life again, to say they are grateful for their illness, it is so much more rare in cases of chronic disease. Why? Because an illness that is daily, constant, and does not see an end- is far easier to hate than to get excited about. A condition which may be degenerative, becoming more painful and physically or mentally compromising over time, isn’t easily beloved…as you can imagine. To me, it’s almost a miracle hearing that anyone would be happy or thankful that they became so sick. Others with chronic illness can find statements like these offensive, even. These ideas of “illness gratitude” certainly border on the extreme, but make one wonder where their personal journeys have lead them to truly embrace their infirmities.

 

I’ve heard people claim to be thankful they are in pain and chronically ill because it transformed their lives. It made them see the world in a different light. Their conditions allowed them to shake off the clutter and stress of a life that they realized didn’t have substance, and focus on a life of greater meaning and value. They once believed losing their career meant losing their purpose, but I’ve spoken to those who say that they are so thankful they became ill because now they found their true calling. Some have said that their new life of chronic illness has enabled them to be there for people in ways they never could have in their “healthy” life, so they are forever thankful for their new sick bodies, and how useful they can be to others through deeper compassion and connection. Sometimes people are grateful they are in pain because it has brought them closer to their faith, and they cherish a higher spiritual connection they never could have had without constantly being pushed to the edge of what they can endure. They are forced to cling to God instead of their own strength, and in that comfort, they find gratitude for suffering that brought them more enrichment spiritually.

Again, these are extreme statements, but thought provoking and inspiring nonetheless!

Most often, people I encounter long for a cure or pray to be healed. That’s normal, and that’s not at all unhealthy. Research in psychology equates the loss of health or a limb to losing a family member or spouse passing away. It’s earth-shattering. The losses just keep coming. With chronic illness, the grief starts over again and again. It’s cavernous, and there’s no end to the emotional roller coaster or the physical fight. Hoping for a cure, for healing, or for remission is what we all are desperate for, and that focus can at times become crucial for survival. But for some of us, restoration of health becomes a worship in itself, and begins to supersede everything else. Seeking a cure or healing can become such a focus that illness becomes nothing but a betrayal of God, of government, of doctors, and family. Nothing feels real except wellness and full restoration.

Obviously these are 2 opposite sides of the spectrum, and balance is always the goal.

When I was diagnosed at 22, I spent the first years asking God WHY? Staying up every night in excruciating pain, my leg felt as though it was breaking, nerves like being electrocuted and burning pain like nothing I could have ever imagined before. Full body spasms, tremors, the room spinning, my heart racing and palpitating, wondering how I had planned and worked so hard for everything that had lead me here, just to lose it to this “incurable degenerative” condition that no one seemed to be taking very seriously to help me try recover from. It didn’t make any sense. As much as I tried to analyze it, I couldn’t crack the code. It only made sense for me to get better, so I searched for my panacea, and prayed (demanding) that God must heal me. At the time, I wasn’t a big prayer person, but illness has a way of connecting you to your higher power. In the Bible, yes, there is healing, but there is also so much pain. The importance of learning through pain, finding ways to share strength or comfort inside of infirmities, these are scriptures that have been so encouraging to me.

I eventually felt lead to make a decision. I believed God would heal me, and I still do believe that is true. But, I decided that if I was going to spend any period of time living a “sick life” I was going to explore it. As much as I was desperate to go back in time, moving forward is all I could do, it’s all any of us can do- Even if it’s slowly, frightened, and with tears in our eyes. 

I cannot go as far as saying that I am thankful I am chronically ill. I can say that at almost 12 years, I’m so grateful I made that decision to press forward and try to find myself inside of this life. If I had stayed so distracted by my past, or so focused on what I might be losing in the future, I would have missed every bit of the beauty, the miracles, the blessings, the generosity of others, the opportunities to be of use, and purpose found inside of this pain.

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More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us. Romans 5:3-5

 

I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong. 2 Corinthians 12:10

 

For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. Romans 8:18

 

When the cares of my heart are many, your consolations cheer my soul. Psalm 94:19

20 Year Anniversary by Logan Woods: An RSD hope story

It has been Twenty years since RSD crashed into my life and it has been quite the ride. Some moments I have wanted to be over before they happen. Other moments I held onto for dear life because they were all that sustained me through the hours and days of pure physical and psychological torture. At times I was able to be more normal like many of my peers. Other times I behaved and felt as if I were on my death bed. However, if I had the choice to do this all over again there would be nothing that I would ever change. I am not saying I like being sick but all of the gifts that it has helped me to find out about myself in a hurry compared to my “normal” peers has been truly priceless.  I will tell a brief side of my tale that has led me to find peace with RSD and my life.

20 Year Anniversary by guest writer, Logan Woods

In February, 1996 I was a normal 15 year old girl who really did not want to go to the dentist, and I got out of it by going to the ER instead. I knelt down and felt like I broke my kneecap in half (I did not). So my mother and brother took me to the local ER to have my knee looked at (I had to be carried, it hurt so bad). They took and X-ray of it and found out that I had somehow knelt on a needle that was now lodged in my lower thigh muscle. They ended up sending me to a different doctor to have surgery on my knee as they could not get it out. The surgery doctor’s next appointment would not be for five days which they thought would give the needle time to work its way up out of the thigh muscle. It worked its way further into the muscle instead, so on that day of the surgery, they took four times as long as they thought they had planned for. After the surgery, the site that they opened up to remove the needle was healing just fine, no complications, no unusual pain, but then on the eighth day after surgery at 4:30, sometime in the afternoon, RSD came into my life. So far has not left, although I keep insisting that she can be on her way now.

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So, mid teen years were now controlled by not me, my school, or my mom, but by RSD, and I am just learning how to gain control over the elusive mistress. She swept into my life limiting my ability to go to normal school and participate in normal activities, although looking back at it, she might have saved me from getting too wild and crazy. I hated my ninth grade year before RSD came in the picture but it became even more troubled after. I ended up dropping out of ninth grade because I could not get out of bed due to the intense pain my leg.

The doctors I went to told me was in my head even though my mom kept telling the doctors my leg kept changing colors to this purple splotchy looking thing. My mom believed me but by then it was such a trouble to handle getting told over and over again there is nothing wrong with your leg. So, I gave up going to the doctors and started living with the pain.

I enrolled into a different high school as we had moved during the summer into a new school district. Tenth grade year was magical with the friends that I made and the activities I enrolled in at school. School was great, home was rough, but was do-able. The pain never went away from my knee and I learned how to distance myself from the pain and focus on my life, but there were times that the pain would break past my threshold and I was no longer able to hide it from people.

Eleventh grade I enrolled in dance class at my school and thought that if I was going to “try” to learn to dance I might as well try once more to figure out why my knee still hurt after 18 months of the initial RSD onset. I ended up seeing a doctor whose specialty was RSD though we did not know that at the time. After the initial meeting, within four hours of meeting this doctor, I was officially diagnosed with RSD in my left knee. I thought, okay this can go away with one of these treatments that the doctor wanted us to start trying right away; it was one tough year. So, treatments start, the school year starts, and everything is going ok. I do not know what to tell my friends so I do not tell them a whole lot. They just find me funny that I would become a log when we would have sleepovers; they would use me as a table to put the pizza on.

 I started missing more school days but I managed to keep up until the end of that year. I was desperate to have a job, so even though I was not that functional, I got a job for 9 months. It was fun getting the paycheck, but work was fast food, not rocket science. In twelfth grade I ended up having a teacher from my school come to my home to give me school work and tests so that I could graduate with my class, which I barely managed to do.

The pain and treatments that were supposed to help just left me isolated from the world, partly by my choosing and partly because I could not act normal with the raging fire in me all the time, so I turned inward.

I had a boyfriend I loved very much but as time went by we were not a compatible match for each other, and RSD became more of a main focus in my life which I am not so sure that was a good thing.

College time came and I just knew I had to go to college for all those wonderful fun 80’s movies that glamorized colleges, and besides, how was I going to work being sick all the time? I took one class a semester for 8 years after high school. I loved my college years and I made some off-color choices, but hey, I thought isn’t it in college that I can get away with shit? My grades were up and down because of the pain but it gave me the experience of a lifetime- taking my time to learn what I wanted to and figuring out what thrilled me to fight for more than just surviving this illness.

I was figuring out that I had found a passion to learn how to thrive. I was only identifying myself at that time as the girl with RSD, nothing more. It took me years to figure out how to stop identifying myself as that sick RSD woman.

I did, by my hairy son Randy (dog) and my hairy son Orion (cat), my hairy son Siries (cat), and through my hairy sister (dog) who in one form or another was sick. So, I started researching about pet health and focused on pet nutrition as it was something that I could do to affect their health. The love for business, invention, and innovation became my zest for life and I helped me to handle the illness.

It took years to get here- where I can see the future I want for myself, and know that I can have it. I would have what we call the “Lorado” me acting like a tornado being destructive against myself, my possessions and the people I loved. I was unable to control my emotions, and I would get really upset over anything, but really, I was just upset because I was miserable and extremely unhappy.

I was tired of being sick all the time (not like we ever get the choice), I was tired of feeling like the only life I might have is through other people, and tired of myself. So, I had to make a decision if I was going to “stay” I had to change me or more precisely change my thinking.

I read books by people who help people handle their moments in life. I started asking myself what I really wanted in life with or without RSD.  I took time to learn to know what I wanted and learned how to stop hating myself and RSD. I would pick a part of myself to like about me and over time I learned to love me and those around me more profoundly and deeply. RSD was no longer my calling card or any way to describe myself. I became Logan, just Logan.

Today, at twenty years, two months, and twenty days into RSD it helps make me, me.

I am becoming a successful business woman by helping to start up a company with my mom and brother, www.Blindsofbeauty.com the one and only company that sells and makes vertical blind slip covers. This is just one of the many companies I will be involved with creating and running. Believe it or not, it is because of RSD that Blinds of Beauty exists, my mom invented vertical blind slip covers as a way to cover the vertical slats that would leave my room even when they were closed blazing hot while I was going through blocks and treatment for the RSD and we were prohibited on our apartment lease from putting holes in the walls. It took a few years (15 years) to start the vertical blind slipcover company but it has been well worth the wait. Blinds of Beauty is giving me the job as the CFO among other responsibilities.  Life is pretty great for me now; I just had to find me.

It has been a work in progress to live my life with RSD, ignoring it to the best of my abilities (not always wise), loving the hairy children I have, giving life my whole heart, following my dreams, and having fun. I plan to run companies, adopt a few non-hairy children, have a wonderful partner, live my life on my own terms, enjoy the great moments and breathe through the rough moments.

*****

This week is the launch of Logan’s new website for her company, Blinds of Beauty. Please check it out. It is truly unique! I’m so honored to share Logan’s story here. She is one of the first people with RSD I “met” online over a decade ago, and we have been friends ever since. She is a beautiful person, inside and out, and she deserves every good thing this life has to offer!

My Anesthesia Nightmare by Nikki Fortner

I have had many fearful adventures during my journey struggling with RSD/CRPS. Let me start off at the beginning…

Please help me welcome our guest writer today, Nikki Fortner!  

Possible trigger warning to our readers.

I was diagnosed with RSD when I was 14 yrs old. I am now 16 going on 17. From the very start, I feared many things. I was scared I wasn’t fixable, I was afraid of what was going to happen to me, most of all I was terrified how my mom was handling it and I couldn’t help her and she couldn’t help me. After her fighting for 2 to 3 years with 5+ doctors to get a correct diagnosis we finally received one in June of 2014. The day we found out the diagnoses (of Complex Regional Pain Syndrome) a lot of emotions filled my mind and body. I was happy because we finally knew what it was that was causing me such horrible pain but I was scared because there wasn’t a cure for itThe doctor I see currently has honestly been the best doctor I could have asked for.

nikki

 

September 14, 2015, I had my first nerve block ever. I was terrified. I just kept staring at my mother that morning thinking to myself I need to be strong for her and myself. I was keeping it together and calm till I heard them open the IV kit and I lost it. I busted into tears, I was so scared I didn’t want to do it. I just wanted to go home but I knew I had to do this for myself. So I calmed down and the procedure went on. The next thing I knew I’m waking up and suddenly the pain was pretty well gone but I was still scared because I was confused about what just happened. I had very good relief from it so we went back and scheduled another block. November 4, 2015, nerve block number 2, this procedure went great. I walked in with a positive attitude towards it because I knew what to expect. Woke up, it was great not feeling that pain again and knowing I wouldn’t for a while.

However, things turned the wrong direction on December 14, 2015. I was walking on a sidewalk and stepped into a hole and broke my ankle where the RSD is located. I was put in a cast for 8 weeks. During this time my RSD pain honestly wasn’t bad at all I was just scared of what would happen when I came out of the cast.
Here we are, present day two days after my recent nerve block and my scariest experience in my life yet. April 4, 2016, nerve block number 3. From the moment we walked in the door that day I knew something was off all around.

My normal lady who does my IV didn’t that day. The lady that did do it, however, messed up bad. When she put the IV in, blood went everywhere and she said it would be fine, but it wasn’t. My arm was burning and I just knew something wasn’t right. I got really scared and I looked at my mom and said, “I’m scared” and she said. “everything is going to be ok” and that when I freaked out and started crying again. I told my regular nurse and she came over and re-did the IV in my other arm and everything was okay after that. They took me back to the O.R and even back there I had this weird vibe. So it went on anyways, I thought it was just me.

My doctor did the time out and then gave me the anesthesia. He gave me one and realized it wasn’t enough because I was still awake. He gave me another dosage and that still wasn’t enough, so he hit me with one more and that knocked me out- hard. The procedure went on but this time, a medication was added to my nerve block to make it better and last longer. When I was trying to wake up something still didn’t feel right I didn’t feel like I normally do when waking up from anesthesia. It took me way longer than normal and by the time they wanted to discharge me I still felt dizzy and sick. We got the paperwork and we left.

The whole way home I slept which I normally don’t do until I get home. When we got home and I went to go to the restroom, everything went downhill from that instant I sat down…. all of a sudden I felt very sick to my stomach and dizzy. Thankfully, my mom was downstairs, but before I could even yell to have her come help me, everything went black, and I passed out for a good 10 minutes. My head slammed against our bathtub. Half my body was in the tub and the other half was out.

The next thing I knew I heard my mom screaming and I had literally 9 paramedics overtop of me sticking me, and poking me, and running tests until I woke up and threw up all over my mom (sorry for the detail). I was taken to the hospital by my house via ambulance where they ran more tests and determined it was too much anesthesia. They pumped 3 bags of fluids in me and sent me home.

Since then I have been fine and feeling better but that honestly had to be a terrifying experience of not only my RSD/ CRPS journey but my entire life as well. I’m so thankful to have people by my side during this journey as well, so thank you Nettie Moneski my mom, Noah Herman my boyfriend, Michelle Craig Hoyt a good family friend, Jimmy Shanks, my grandfather and grandmother, Amelia Catherine Gish my best friend, and to everyone else, thank you guys so much, I couldn’t go through this without you guys!! Love you guys so much!!

-written by RSD survivor, Nikki Fortner, age 16

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