New digs and old digs

First, I have to give credit to Kelly of Nello Design for my great new look. Love it! My only complaint is that I specifically asked her to fix my picture so that I look like Eva Longoria, but she COMPLETELY ignored my request. Nice.

If anyone checks out Kelly's site, you'll notice she's taking a break (literally) from posting. She broke her foot and is currently going through the hell that is dealing with chronic pain and incapacitation. So let's talk about that a little bit, shall we?

I'm quite familiar with the whole chronic pain thing. Just about two years ago, after months of working out hard at the gym, I reaggravated an old condition in my knees. And also? Acquired NEW injuries in my legs! I went straight from the fittest I've ever been in my life to a complete and utter couch potato. I literally sat just about all day, every day, with my legs up. Not a doctor around could figure out why my legs felt so completely horrible that I could barely walk. And I saw quite a few doctors, let me tell you. It just went on and on and on. In fact, I'm still not completely normal, two years later. At the current rate of healing, I don't think I'll be completely in the clear for at least another year. Depression, anyone?

Anyway. The hardest part of dealing with all of this has been trying to take care of two small children and run a household while in constant pain. I swear Paul must be a saint to have gotten through the past couple of years with me. And my kids...the poor things. I think for a full year there wasn't one nice thing that I said to them. Everything was said with gritted teeth and a growl. "Go wash your hands!" "Eat your lunch!" "Here's your damn Christmas present! Hurry up and open it!"

The only thing that has helped me is acupuncture. My acupuncturist is like God to me. How serious am I? If I see a needle, or even just a sharp object of any kind, I drop to my knees and cry in relief. Just from the mere sight. Okay, I don't really drop to my knees because that would hurt. But my acupuncturist is the only person who figured out what exactly was/is going on in my legs and was able to treat the problem. She is straight from China and used to be a doctor there at an orthopedic hospital that deals only in Traditional Chinese Medicine. If not for her, I'd still be a miserable, bitchy...witch. Snapping at everyone in my house and lying on the couch crying all day. I still have some days like that occasionally *cough yesterday cough*, but it's only when I've done way too much. Thankfully, I've gotten to the point where I can handle more and more activity, but the process has been excruciatingly sllllloooooowwwwwww. At least I have the comfort of knowing that when I feel a little setback, I can run to the phone, dial a number, and say, "PLEASE. HURT. ME." The person on the other end says, "I have opening at 6 p.m. I put needles. It hurt very bad for day or two. Then you feel relief." And it's not even an obscene phone call. Awesome!

However, the point (ha ha) I'm trying to make but am taking forever to spit out is that when you are in chronic pain, no one cares. NO. ONE. Seriously. Way back in Paragraph 3 when I said "I'm quite familiar with the whole chronic pain thi-...," right about THERE is when the sound of outclicks was absolutely deafening. I doubt there's even anyone still reading this. I'm probably talking to myself now.

As if that's ever stopped me.

Chronic pain is right up there with mental illness. No one wants to listen to you when you're in pain. It's so boring! When people can't see the problem, they therefore think it's "all in your head." And after awhile you start hearing the digs. "What would happen if you had a full-time job? What would you have to do, quit?" Um, YES. Or? I'm pretty sure that's what the terms "short-term disability" and "long-term disability" are used for in the World of the Working. When you can barely shower, dress yourself, or stand long enough to open a can of soup, you are somewhat DISABLED.

For the past two years, I've repeatedly told people (in ever so few words so as not to KILL them with BOREDOM) that I can't do this or that because, well, I can't walk around like a normal person without keeling over in agony. And it's not like I offer up this information for no particular reason. It's usually in response to someone asking me things like, "Hey, did you take the kids to see the fireworks on the 4th?" or "Did you notice that new store in the mall?" or "Any plans for vacation this year?" Answers: "I'm pretty sure that would involve a certain amount of walking, which is something that's hard to do when you can't walk" and "I don't even remember where the mall IS" and "Only if we can find a place with Lazy Boy recliners on the beach and scooter rentals." And I'm usually greeted with a blank and/or disgusted look. Because I certainly don't LOOK like there is anything wrong with me, so therefore I must be insane. Maybe if I cut my legs off and bled profusely on the floor I might see an ounce of understanding and concern. Then again, maybe people would just be disgusted by the mess I was making. So, the way I handle it is, I don't even bother answering people truthfully anymore. I just answer "No" to all their questions and that seems to cover everything. Kind of like when someone says, "How are you?" and they expect you to say fine even if you have been given three months to live. No one wants the details unless they're happy ones.

Don't get me wrong, though. I don't hold it against anyone for reacting like this. Honestly, I don't. It seems to be human nature for people not to understand what they can't see. I'm sure I've been guilty of the same sort of thing before. In fact, I'm positive I have. The only good thing about having chronic pain is that it turns you into a more caring, empathetic person. I mean, now, I see someone with crutches, or even just limping, and I well up with tears and my heart aches for them. I want to carry their purse, help them into their car, fix them lunch. I feel for them.

So, hang in there, Kelly. You'll get better. It just takes time. If worse comes to worse, at least you know that you can turn to God. I'm seeing her tonight at 5 p.m. I'm sure there must be One in your area. Oh, and if you didn't live a gazillion miles away? I'd fix you lunch. And then I'd tell you to stop your whining and get your damn foot off my coffee table.