I acquired most of the following that this blog has by writing about breaking my neck, being put back together like humpty dumpty, and trying to go on with my "normal" life. Since I got hurt more than a year ago, I've stopped writing so much about being hurt and everything that went along with it, but that doesn't mean that it still doesn't exact a constant and sometimes overwhelming influence on my life.
I know one person who, every time I have seen them over the last year, has asked: "Well your neck doesn't hurt anymore, right?"
At times this has driven me to frustration and anger and long drawn-out rants about how annoying it is. I don't think that this person persistently asks because they are insensitive or lack compassion or are attempting some weird brand of sarcasm. I think they ask because they want me to say "That's right! It doesn't hurt anymore!", because they truly are concerned and it would really make them feel better to hear that I am not in pain.
Unfortunately, it turns out that no matter of wanting and wishing on my part, or anyone else's, can change the fact that my neck does still hurt. Unlike most of the last 15 months, it doesn't hurt all of the time or even most of the time, but it does hurt every day.
There really are no moments where I forget that I broke my neck.
When I was first in the hospital in traction, a nurse told me that in a few weeks the whole experience would just feel like a bad dream. She was a good nurse and a good person and I think she probably believed that was true. (And considering the fact that all that stood between me and a pretty devastating spinal cord injury was some serious luck, I really have returned to a normal life and this neck breaking thing was a relatively small blip). But to be honest, it really doesn't feel like just a bad dream that is now in my past - at all! It feels like a stupid mistake, or a freak accident, or whatever, that despite my relatively positive outcome has absolutely colored a significant portion of my life and inevitably will continue to do so for the foreseeable future and probably forever.
And that's kind of a bummer.
If you'd like to maintain a view of me as an enlightened and supremely appreciative and well-perspectived person, read this paragraph and then skip the rest of this post. I am amazingly lucky. I easily could be dead. I easily could be a quadriplegic with very limited functioning. Every day that I am able bodied and can walk and use my hands and take care of myself and my dog and wash the dishes and clean and re-organize the shed is one that I am incredibly lucky to have. If I were paralyzed, I think I would probably long to live even a "bad" day as I am now. And so I strive to live each day with that sense of appreciation.
But… but… It still sucks.
I'm not allowed to do headstands. Now, I've done a bunch of headstands in my life. Way more than the average person I would imagine. And I never really had an affinity for them, if you had asked me 5 minutes before I got hurt how I felt about headstands my answer would have been quite ambivalent. Take it or leave it. But these days, post-injury, now that I'm dabbling more in yoga, it really upsets me that headstands are forbidden. Not necessarily because I am going to miss out on the benefits of being inverted, because I can still do a handstand, but just because I am not even 25 years old, and it seems totally unfair that my body is already dictating such limits on what I can do.
Similarly, a good friend has taken up running (something I have always strived for but never actually succeeded at), and I'm finding that I WOULD REALLY LIKE TO DO THAT TOO, but wait, probably my neck is under enough stress as it is, and is it really necessary to add stress to my already compromised and naturally degenerating spine with something like running? I am jealous.
So, like this post, I flip-flop frequently between extreme thankfulness and extreme frustration about the whole situation. This may be why I have a hard time writing for this blog anymore, because sharing my true feelings is likely to betray my image as so resilient and well-adjusted.
Next thing you know, I'll be telling you Murphy is not actually gold!
Posts
Comments ( 5 )
I understand... I have friends who do that same thing, asking continually if I'm now pain-free, as if they expect that I've been cured since they last saw me. I know how frustrating it is but your interpretation is probably right. Moreover, people like that probably don't want to know how you're *really* doing.
I think that all of us in chronic pain do the flip-flopping that you're describing. I've just had two of the most horrendously bad days that I've had in a long time with pain so bad that I feel nauseous. Believe me, I am not the most fun person to be around right now. I'm a bitch. But, I do force myself to slow down and appreciate my world. And I force myself to stay active. I certainly feel better than if I didn't do those things but I'm not able to totally rise above the pain.
I guess that I'm saying that you should cut yourself some slack. Pain sucks. It leaves you angry, pathetic, and tired beyond words. But, maybe you can find a few small things to appreciate each day that will help make each day a little better. That's just a small goal... (for me too!).
While I can't relate to having such a traumatic injury and physically suffering, I can relate to the feeling of being grateful and highly frustrated at the same time. I have come close to killing myself, and while I am grateful to be alive, there are many times that life is so painful I have wondered why I lived. There are many moments when life is the greatest thing I have ever experienced and then there are days it is empty and useless where there seems no point.
I don't have any magic words, but I just want to let you know, you are not alone. We may not have the same injury, but pain is pain and it hurts all the same.
Use your blog for what you have to. Many will understand, more than you know. :)
trust me headstands are overrated and you can still do yoga without it....Take a cue from Murphy....Life is meant to be enjoyed a minute at a time.
Glad you are better and staying positive.
Hi Y'all,
KB understands. You can feel fine one second, turn around and "all Hell" breaks loose. Grab the ice, the heat, the Zotrich and BenGay, go the bed, pull the blankets over your head...or be more like my husband and keep going, but get snappy. All of us behave differently, but one day, hopefully when you're old and decrepit, you give in to the pain, give up on the world and die.
Each of us escape our discomfort and pain in different ways. What I call pain, perhaps is not what my husband would call pain. Perhaps what he feels I would be unable to endure, or perhaps it is the reverse. The point is, to look at a person, unless you know them very well and see the pain etched in their eyes, you cannot tell what that person is feeling.
People who have never had a serious injury or are totally self absorbed seem to have no concept of real pain, chronic pain. That's why Murphy is the best friend you will ever have. He is always there for you. He never criticizes. He never judges. He doesn't care if you feel terrible and look like a hurricane struck your hair. He'll wait. He'll enjoy the time just being with you, no matter you're curled in bed or outside playing ball with him.
BrownDog's Momma
Hi Kira! A few things...
1. That picture of Murphy is just beautiful! What kind of lens do you use?
2. I love your new(ish?) blog design. It looks awesome! And I apologize if you changed it up months ago (I use Google Reader most of the time, so I miss most of the cool layouts!)
3. Feel free to be real. This is YOUR space, and your readers (such as myself) love your honesty.
4. You are awesome.
xxoo,
Lauren (and Claire!)
Post a Comment