Update: I’m Dead Inside (Literally)

Some of you may have noticed I haven’t written anything in quite a while. This past year has been one of the worst of my life. Even more has been added to the list of things I cannot do and so I have been going through the stages of grief as a result (but had an extended stay on the depression part.)

A New Diagnosis

By September 2017, my ankle had been really really hurting for the past 3 years, but my doctors kept writing it off. “It’s just EDS pain,” they insisted, writing me off again and again. Yes, EDS led to my ankles usually being sore but not nearly as painful so I knew something was wrong. After insisting it was different than EDS pain and asking for my rheumatologist to look into it for three years straight I finally had an X-ray.

That X-Ray led to an MRI and that MRI led to a surgeon. In August I was diagnosed with Avascular Necrosis (AVN) in my ankle. AVN is essentially when the bone dies because it doesn’t get enough oxygen from the blood. In some cases the bone fully collapses, my ankle being one of those lucky cases. I had been walking around on a collapsed bone in my ankle for THREE YEARS.

As if that wasn’t enough to deal with, I was diagnosed with AVN in seven other joints (so far.) I have AVN in one shoulder, both hips, both knees, both ankles, and in my toes. My ankle AVN was by far the most severe as my talus (bone in ankle) had already collapsed. However, collapse in my hips is inevitable and I will likely need a few more joint replacements.

So I finally had an answer to why my pain had gotten so much worse over the past couple years, but it definitely wasn’t an answer I wanted. AVN is incredibly rare and there aren’t many treatment options. Many are very new or even experimental. When bones are in the early stages there are surgical options to put off joint replacements, but when it is very advanced joint replacement is the only treatment. Unfortunately, the only proven treatment for AVN is surgery.

Surgery

So in November 2017, I had my ankle replaced and fused. In addition, a procedure was done on my hip that was supposed to put off collapse. I think that hip procedure failed as my hip is far worse off now, but the ankle replacement is going well.

I’ll write its own piece on my ankle replacement as well as hip surgery. The science behind it is amazing and there’s a lot to say. Even though my ankle is recovering well, I’ve been really struggling with the grief and isolation that comes with a major surgery like this.

Limitations & Coping

I can no longer point or flex my foot and never will be able to. It’s hard to not think of the list of things I can’t do; it feels like it’s getting longer by the day. I haven’t been able to dance in a couple years, but I always thought of it as a possibility. Now I’m not sure it is. I can’t drive and will have to relearn to eventually once I’m healed. Hiking also seems unlikely. I’m actually okay with the never being able to wear heels again part.

I’ve coped with my EDS and POTS, but this is a whole different story. AVN has the potential to spread anywhere. Every joint pain I have worries me that I have AVN in another joint. Sometimes I can feel or even hear my joints crumbling or bone grinding on bone. I feel like I’m dying on the inside and it’s one of the most unnerving conditions I’ve had. It’s beyond depressing to know your body is degenerating and feeling it happen doesn’t help.

I’ve also had trouble coping with isolation. I rarely leave my house for something other than a doctors appointment due to pain. I moved to a place without stairs and that has helped. I also plan to dedicate a whole article to chronic pain and isolation in the future.

So there’s my very quick update. So many other things have happened that I will be writing about more in the future. For example, getting more diagnoses, finally getting IV hydration, PICC lines, a CBD product review, and more. Thanks for sticking around during my writing slump!

4 Problems With The Pain Scale

My life has been filled with a lot of pain and many different types of pain. In the past 7 years, I have not had a single day without pain- not one. I have good days and bad days, but even the good days are filled with pain. Aside from the pain itself, the pain scale is one of the banes of my existence.

1. It Doesn’t Work For Chronic Pain

Not only is it a pretty terrible scale for measuring pain in the average person, but it is even less effective for people with chronic pain.

I’ve had a lot of people when talking about pain, make the comment “but you’re used to it.” This isn’t exactly true. My pain is actually worse and more unbearable than it has ever been before. Pain doesn’t hurt any less because you are used to it. What you really get used to is living with it. You get used to pretending you don’t have pain, using coping methods such as distraction, and hiding the pain.

If I had the average response to dislocating a joint that the average person did I would be crying, distorting my face, and screaming far too often to navigate this world. So I’ve learned to breathe through it and even smile. Only people very close to me can even tell that something is happening- and often they can’t even tell. Developing this coping mechanism is so necessary for living with chronic pain and such a problem at the doctor’s office.

I have had at least a dozen kidney stones. The pain of a kidney stone is slightly worse than my average Ehler’s Danlos pain, but not enough that I can easily shed my coping mechanism of hiding my pain. One night I began to pee blood and couldn’t keep fluids down so I went to the ER. I told them I had a kidney stone- I know full well what they feel like by now. The nurse told me I couldn’t have a kidney stone, “Even giant footballer men roll into the fetal position from kidney stones.” They did a scan and, of course, I had a large kidney stone. I eventually got treatment, but first was told I wasn’t in enough pain. It was infuriating and it has happened more than once.

It has gotten to the point where I almost feel like I have to try and visibly show the pain I feel inside, but it is still so difficult.

2. It Isn’t Standardized

Another problem is the scale means something different to everyone. I’ve been told 10/10 is the worst pain I’ve ever felt and also told that 10/10 is the worst pain I can imagine. These are far different measurements! For the same pain, I would rate it as a 8 on the first scale and a 3 on the second (I can imagine some horrific pain).

3. We Can Only Compare Pain- Not Imagine It

Generally, we can only rate our pain based on comparisons to other pain we have actually felt. That is the best way to understand someone’s pain. However, many people are at the extremes- they have either had a fairly pain free life or have experienced immense pain. Two people’s 7/10 may be wildly different. The scale does not work as a stand-alone tool without considering the pain patients have felt in the past.

4. The Scale Is Used Against Patients

Another problem with the pain scale is that it is commonly used by nurses and doctors against the patient. If you answer too high on the pain scale and they can’t see the cause of your pain, they will assume you are lying to get drugs. If you answer an 8 and then check messages on your phone (even though distraction is one of the best solutions to pain) they will assume you are lying. If you answer too low they won’t take you seriously. Instead of using the scale to help treat patients it is often used to hurt patients.

So if the pain scale is the problem what is the answer? Medical professionals need to listen to their patients when they describe their pain and take a look at their medical history. The pain scale needs to be taken with a grain of salt when used and needs to be standardized. Medical professionals need to make up their minds. What is a 10/10? Decide and then stick to it!

You Don’t Owe It To Anyone To Try Every Treatment

Two weeks ago I went in for an injection in my back. The doctor, instead of being focused on my pain and comfort, decided to use me seeing him as a platform to push alternative medicine on me. By the end of my time with him I was sobbing because I was so frustrated from not being heard. Since then I’ve come to the realization that I don’t owe it to anyone to try a treatment especially one that has not been backed up by science. I will no longer accept health care “professionals” who are judgmental about me not trying hard enough to cure myself.

In the beginning, 8 long years ago, when I first got really sick I tried everything. Every possibility of improvement I jumped on. Every time I got my hopes up and had them crushed again and again. As if that disappointment wasn’t enough, when these things didn’t make me feel all the way better it was always my fault. I must have not been following the diet close enough. I wasn’t practicing hard enough. No one considered the possibility that the treatment, one that hadn’t been verified as successful, just didn’t work.

When alternative medicine gets pushed on patients it is the patients that get hurt. Dealing with having your hopes crushed over and over is hard enough. Dealing both with that and with feelings of inadequacy when you are trying your best is even worse. In real medicine, if someone takes their meds and they don’t work they don’t get blamed for not trying hard enough. When one blood thinner doesn’t work me don’t blame the patient for not trying hard enough to thin their blood; instead the dosage is adjusted or a different medication is used. Real medical professions realize that medications and treatments work differently for different people.

You can bet I will be writing more on the subject, but here are some ridiculous highlights that came from my surgeon:

“Just try an anti inflammatory diet. I did and I feel like I’m 21 again!”

Talking to someone who has been in a ridiculous amount of pain since they were 18 about how you felt 21 is insensitive. Youth does not always mean health.

 

“You’ll lose 21 pounds in 21 days.”

What are you an infomercial?!

 

“Inflammation is the cause of all your problems; you just need to cut it out.”

Actually, my genes cause all my problems. No diet will change that. Also, inflammation is not always a bad thing. It helps us heal, it lets us know when there is a problem. Saying an anti-inflammatory diet will fix everything is oversimplifying things. Didn’t you go to medical school?! Or we using “doctor” in a looser sense?

 

“Do you eat gluten? You haven’t cut it out. That is your problem.”

I have cut it out. I tried that. Do you think you’re the first person to tell you that? Cutting out gluten is not the solution to everything.

 

“People drive from Kansas just to get this list, but I’m going to give it to you for free.”

Great a list of potentially dangerous supplements and unwarranted “medical” advice. My favorite.

 

“Actually there is an entire edition of a journal dedicated to this.”

Yes, there are articles in academic journals about anti-inflammatory diets. They are written by chiropractors and nurses who monetarily profit from people trying anti-inflammatory diets. There is almost no information on any actual science behind it from credible sources. Just because the article is in an academic journal doesn’t mean it is reliable.

 

“You need to get off opiates.”

He said this one to me as I was sobbing in pain in front of him. He is not the doctor that manages them, it was not his business. He also said this after telling me that the nerve in my back was pinched and asking if I had surgery scheduled. When someone dislocates their shoulder they are given opiates. EDSers deal with that pain daily all of their body, but then are judged for needing pain relief. I haven’t slept a good nights sleep in four months due to pain, but yes I’ll stop opiates right away.

 

“You need to try biofeedback.”

I have. I even use some techniques for relaxation, but it didn’t cure me.

 

“You just didn’t see a good one.”

I saw one who is an expert to my condition.

 

“You have to practice more.”

I was practicing even more than they recommended. I tried at it. I really did, but when alternative medicine fails it is always the fault of the patient- not the alternative medicine.

 

“I treat people with EDS all the time.”

He had no understanding of EDS, prescribed me muscle relaxers (contraindicated to EDS), and obviously had no grasp of the condition. I really hope he was lying here and that no one with my condition has had to deal with his ignorance.

 

“Just try what the doctor is recommending.”

This one came from the judgmental nurse on staff. She said this after the doctor was done spewing his pseudoscience and after I had already said that I had done the research and there wasn’t science to back it up AND that I couldn’t eat most of what is in their proposed diet. Chronically ill people don’t deserve to be shamed for not trying things that are not backed by science.
Life with a chronic illness is hard enough. We don’t deserve to be harassed by people for not trying a treatment. I’m not saying that all alternative medicine is evil. For example, massage has helped me wonderfully. What I am saying is that people with chronic illnesses do not deserve to be harassed or judged for not trying hard enough for not trying every treatment under the sun. 

The Big Problem With Overdose We Are Forgetting

 

Everyone is freaking out about opiate overdose- what about the major problem no one is talking about?

Prescription overdose has been in the spotlight lately, which makes sense. Drug overdoses have now surpassed automobile overdoses as the leading cause of accidental death. What doesn’t make sense is that because of this spotlight chronic pain patients are running into a harder time getting the help they need. Instead of addressing drug abuse and overdoses in a productive manner people are punishing chronic pain patients who need help by making it harder to get their medication.

This study reveals that chronic pain patients aren’t the ones who are having problems with abuse; Only 2% of chronic pain patients end up having problems with abuse. However, if people make conclusions based on the media, all chronic pain patients are addicts destined to accidentally overdose.

Overdose is heavily talked about, but there is one extremely important aspect to this that everyone is missing- suicide. Dealing with pain every second of every day can, unsurprisingly, be incredibly depressing. In fact, 19-28% of people with chronic pain are suicidal on some level, whether through suicide ideation or with actual plans to carry out their death. And the most common tool for suicide in these cases? You may have guessed it- medication overdose.

We need to change how we perceive health and chronic pain for this problem to go away. Two major risk factors in chronic pain patients who commit suicide are patients feeling like a burden and not feeling like they belong. This comes as no surprise to me. Our society absolutely treats people who are disabled like burdens and outsiders.

We praise the people who are friends with/ dating/ supporting chronic pain patients because we see chronic pain patients as burdens instead of people.

We abuse chronic illness patients at a rate that is 1.5 times the usual or 4 times as much if the chronic illness is mental, only to act like they are lucky to have anyone in their lives.

We do the bare minimum to make things accessible (only because it is the law) and act like we are doing disabled a favor.

We treat people with chronic pain first as criminal drug-seekers and consider their pain and quality of life second.

We talk about how terrible opiates are and how they are never justified. There is no understanding that for many of us the choice is between this unfortunate drug and killing ourselves because the pain is too much to live with every day.

We often go out of our way to avoid the disabled. We look away or make an excuse.

Overdose is a huge issue and it should be taken seriously. However, going after people who are already hurting is only going to worsen this issue and cause an increase of overdoses. Researchers already don’t feel like they can properly tell which opiate overdoses are accidental or suicide. Statistics suggest that we should at least consider that suicide is a big issue in the discussion on overdose.

Part of the solution is to change the way we think about and treat chronic pain patients. 

Another part of the solution is to change the way we think about and treat chronic pain patients. The other is to make naloxone, a medicine that can save people from  an overdose, easily available to people who do overdose accidentally.

Decriminalising these drugs would also help drug abusers get the help they need without fear of being charged with a crime. 

When we talk about overdoses we often leave out discussions of the people who are using these drugs the most. We also need to make the increase in suicide, abuse, depression, anxiety, and PTSD in chronic pain patients part of the conversation on increased overdose. 

 

8 Things Healthy People Need To Stop Saying

Dear Healthy People,

There are a lot of articles out there about what you should stop saying to sick people. Here are some things healthy people need to think about before they say because they are hurtful. Please stop saying and doing the following. You are being insensitive and ignorant.

I try so hard to be empathetic and tactful, but I am so sick of these people not even attempting to be tactful or empathetic to me in any way so, this time, the gloves are coming off. I’m sick of your crap and am calling you out.

1. Sorry But I ___________________

• Was in pain
• Was sick
• Hadn’t slept well

Using pain, illness, or lack of sleep as an excuse for bad behavior is incredibly irritating.

I recently had someone go off on me in anger and blamed it on not sleeping well… for two nights. At the time, I had slept an average of 1 hour a night for the last 30 days. It was insulting for someone to treat me poorly and use not sleeping well for two nights as an excuse for their behavior when even after a month without sleep I was still nice to her.

When you have a chronic illness you don’t get to use pain, illness, or lack of sleep as an excuse to be rude to people. If you did you would lose every person in your life within a week. I realize that being sick or sleep deprived for many people is an uncommon and terrible thing to deal with. But it feels so terrible that healthy people get to use it as an excuse when I strive to be a good, nice person despite dealing with dislocated joints, not sleeping for weeks at a time, and all the crap that comes along with having a chronic illness.

2. I Know How You Feel
When healthy people say this to me I seriously want to scream. First of all, being sick for a long time is nothing like having an injury, being acutely sick, or not sleeping well a few nights. Pretending it is the same minimizes the biggest struggle of my life, a struggle that is hard to clear my mind of for a single minute because my pain is there to remind me constantly. Unless you have had to grieve for the loss of your old life when you were healthy you should not say this to someone with a chronic illness.

Secondly, comparing someone’s illness to your situation is messed up. Why do you have to make the comparisons? Why can’t you empathize instead of minimizing my problems? Plus, let’s be honest. If you want to play the comparison game you will lose. You haven’t slept well for a few days? Try months. Your shoulder is sore? Try dislocating multiple joints a week. You have had an ear infection for a week? Try having a sinus infection for 6 months or a debilitating illness for almost 8 years.

I can feel sympathetic to your pain and illness, but if you compare it to mine or minimize my illness my ability to empathize with you will go out the window.

Parents, you not sleeping because you have a child is not the same thing as dealing with a chronic illness. You chose to have children. I didn’t choose this. Being tired is not the same as feeling the crushing fatigue of a chronic illness. So no, you can know tired and not have an infant. Stop minimizing everyone else’s experiences because you have a kid.

3. I Have Been Sick For SO Long
Being sick sucks. Being sick for a while really sucks. I get it; I really do. This is not an “other people have it worse thing,” you are allowed to have a hard time. I can support you through that. It is a problem when you say these things to me or other chronically ill people without considering how I feel. Hearing you say that having a cold for a couple weeks as “so long” feels like you are ignoring the fact that that happened to me once, but the difference is my illness never went away.

I have been sick for 7 years, 8 months, and 6 days. I have not gone more than 3 or 4 hours (awake) that entire time without my body reminding me that I am sick, that I am not normal. When you forget that, when you ignore that, it is a slap in the face.

I will support you for the entire time you are sick but please do not forget the hard things I am dealing with. Don’t minimize what I am going through because you are having a hard time and I will not do the same.

4. You Are Lucky
You are lucky you get to take “fun drugs.”
I have excruciating pain nearly every minute of every day. The medicines I take are not to get high or have fun. They hardly take the edge off. I would never take them again if I could survive the pain. Being in so much pain you have to take medicine is absolutely not lucky.

You are lucky you don’t have to work/ go to school.
I was on track to go to medical school when I got sick. I am not lazy or avoiding work. I would give anything to be able to go to school and work. I hate feeling trapped into doing less. It isn’t luck; this isn’t a vacation.

You are lucky you can sleep in.
If I don’t sleep more I can function even less than usual. I am not sleeping in because I feel like it, am lazy, or am a bit tired. I sleep in because I cannot stand if I sleep less than 9 hours. My pain is unimaginable if I don’t get enough sleep. I sleep out of necessity, not pleasure.

The list goes on and on. How inconsiderate are you that you can’t see that having a chronic illness is not in any way lucky?

5. I Couldn’t Do It, I Hate _______

• Taking medicine
• Shots
• Going to the doctor
• Hospitals

I hate them all too, but when you have a severe chronic illness you no longer have a choice. When people say this I am not sure how to respond. Are you implying I do like these things? Do you think these things are optional? I have to do things I hate all the time to survive.

If you were chronically ill you would have to do all those things too. You do what you have to to survive. What you want, what you enjoy no longer matters when you are fighting every day to survive.

6. You Can Do Anything! Mind Over Matter!
I know you are trying to be inspirational but this is really insulting to disabled people. No matter what I do I will never be able to climb a mountain, become a surgeon, or run a marathon. Being literally unconscious puts a damper on accomplishing all your dreams. And that is what happens when I try “mind over matter”- I faint.

So no, don’t spew that crap to me. I am limited by my condition. Just because you are able bodied do not tell us we all of are able to accomplish anything we put our mind to.

7. I Never Get Sick
People say this with pride to me all the time. The only reason I am sick and you aren’t is chance alone. You are not better than me because you happen to be healthy.

When you say this with pride you make it obvious you think you are better than me because you are healthy. It makes it obvious you think I have control over the fact that I am sick.

8. At Least You Are Used To It
Discounting what I am going through because I go through it constantly is also insulting. My condition causes a different pain every day. It doesn’t get less shitty because I have had it for so long. In fact, it gets harder. It is exhausting and soul crushing to deal with pain and illness this long. So don’t dismiss me because I have had these problems for a while. It still hurts and it is still hard no matter how long it has been.

Defining Yourself By Your Disability and Seeing Yourself As Sick

Defining Yourself As Your Disability

 This article makes a really good point I have  been thinking of lately. People should not demand someone with a disability to look at themselves in whatever way you see fit. Don’t complain that they talk about their illness too much. My disability does not define me, but it has shaped who I am. I have to deal with it every single day; it is a part of my life and I will talk about it if I want to.

Firstly, telling people to not “define themselves by their disability” is insulting because it implies that is how they do define themselves. For me and for most people this isn’t true.

Secondly, telling someone to not define themselves by their disability or to talk about their disability less is just ignorant. The people you see every day, the job you go to every single day- those things shape who you are. So who are you to say that a something I deal with every minute of every day should not influence my life or how I see myself?  When you hate your job you are probably going to talk about it a lot. In no way does that mean you are defined by that feeling, your crappy job, or how you deal with it. Talking about something that affects you so profoundly absolutely does not mean you are “defined” by it.

Seeing Yourself As Sick

While at the Dysautonomia International Conference a Dr. Paola Sandroni, a neurologist and expert in POTS, claimed that IV fluids should not be given to patients because it makes them think of themselves as sick*. Well, my question to Dr. Sandroni: how is wanting IV fluids to feel less sick going to make me suddenly see myself as more sick?! IV fluids make me feel less sick and more normal. Do you want to know what does make me think of myself as sick? Fainting. Pain. Brain fog. Dizziness. Nausea. Severe tachycardia. Vomiting. Chest pain. Our symptoms make us feel sick and think of ourselves as sick; treatments make us feel better and more normal. Stop demonizing our attempts to feel better.

I have also heard “friends,” family, and medical professionals go even as far as saying that you would feel better if you didn’t focus so much on being sick. Just stop talking about it and it will go away. In some cases, I am sure this is true, especially with patients who have both anxiety and POTS. Most of us do not. Just as many others, I don’t see myself as weak and sick. That is not why I talk about my illness. In fact, I see myself as strong, and a fighter for what I go through every day and keep on going. I recognize how hard it was to ask my friends and family for support. I recognize that I am doing everything I can to raise awareness to hopefully limit both the suffering of others and myself. If I need support to deal with this really tough thing then you can bet I will talk about it, and I’m stronger for that fact. You can’t silence me by demonizing the way I get support and deal with my illness.

*All the other doctors at the Dysautonomia International Conference were wonderful and much more understanding of patient’s struggles. This was just one negative experience of an overall wonderful weekend.

It Is Okay to Feel Like Giving Up: A Letter to Those Who Support A Chronically Ill Loved One

Dear Supporters of a Person Who Is Chronically Ill,

Today I want to give up. It happens every once in a while. Chronic pain is a fight you never get breaks from. It is all day every day, and lately for me it has been all night every night. Pain and lack of sleep have left me feeling incredibly discouraged. Sometimes I feel as if being in pain for this long warps my thoughts. All I want is a break from the pain. It is easy to want to give up when you can’t even get a break from pain while sleeping.

Additionally, I don’t feel like I can talk to anyone who usually supports me. I don’t feel like I am allowed to do anything than fight this every second of every day. I don’t feel like I am allowed to feel anything other than hope and inspiration. I don’t feel like I am allowed to be this discouraged.

When you feel like giving up feeling isolated is one of the worst things you can add to the mix. I know I won’t give up. I know that I will push through because I always do. It would be really nice to not feel so alone in this feeling right now.

In the past, as I’ve talked to people around me about these feelings I have noticed a pattern. They listen long enough to get scared, shame me for feeling this way, and change the subject. I understand that is an uncomfortable subject. I really do, but when you respond in this manner the next time I feel this way I won’t feel like they can talk to you. That is where I sit today.

So I am here to tell you what I desperately wish someone would have told me a long time ago: there is nothing wrong with feeling like you want to give up. The important thing is that you don’t give up.

Do not shame us for feeling this way.

So many of us have to fight so hard every day- against pain, loss of friends, loss of social life, and loss of our healthy self. It is okay to feel tired from this battle. When you shame your loved ones for feeling this way you guarantee that they will not talk to you the next time they feel this way. That is the very worst time to feel alone.

You can remain supportive and positive without shaming them for feeling this way. If you do this then your loved one is more likely to seek out you to talk to rather than some terrible alternatives.

Don’t see this feeling as weakness.

Wishing you could give up isn’t a moment of weakness; it is expected when you are fighting an uphill battle against your own body.

Listen.

A lot of the time we aren’t looking for a solution. We just want support- someone to talk to. You don’t have to know the perfect thing to say. Sometimes you don’t have to say anything at all. Sometimes a hug or shoulder to cry one is the best thing you can do.

Let us feel the full extent of our feelings.

Crying, screaming into a pillow, and cursing out your illness are all things we need to do sometimes. Let us feel all our feelings without judgement.

Get frustrated at the illness, not your loved one.

Dealing with chronic illness can be frustrating to the patient and those around us. You don’t have to be a saint and never get frustrated. Instead, direct the anger at the illness and not the patient. When they come to you frustrated you will be able to support them better and relate more to their struggle. When you tackle the problem together and see it as an obstacle to work through instead of a problem with your loved one you are much better at supporting others.

Because you and your loved one are fighting the same battle (in obviously very different ways), you are often the one best equipped to understand and support. You probably have similar frustrations with your loved one’s illness. Use this to relate and empathize, but do not make their struggles about you.

Seek help when necessary.

It is not your responsibility or your fault your loved one feels this way. You aren’t expected to support us alone. Sometimes you will need help and that is okay.

If these feelings in your loved one are ongoing they might need therapy. Don’t demand they go. Suggest it and tell them how worried you are about them, how much you care about them, and that you want to continue to support them but you can’t do it on your own.

Update: Because I’m Special Like That

Like a lot of people with Ehler’s Danlos III, I have back problems and hip problems. In the past, I have received epidurals for the pain and the injections have been lifesavers.  This time my body decided to be uncooperative.

The first injection went fine, but as they began the second injection Cerebral Spinal Fluid began to leak. They stopped the procedure to make sure it would stop. It did so I went back into the operating room a second time. When I came to I could feel nothing from the waist down and couldn’t move anything from the waist down either. Now I am not talking about numbness or weakness. I had full on temporary paralysis. It was such a strange feeling!

Looking awesome in my funny hat and gown.

My doctor wasn’t too worried and assured me it wouldn’t be permanent. She said out of he two thousand procedures she has done this has only happened once before. Because I am special like that.

Over the next few hours I began to regain feeling in my hips, legs, and finally toes. The saddest part of the whole experience is that when I could feel nothing from the waist down was the least pain I’ve been in for the past six years. It was a strange thing to enjoy (only because I knew it was temporary).

Now the recovery is extremely painful and slow. I can only help some of it helped. We will see.