I have a high pain tolerance but …
* Editor’s note: I have been unusually quiet on my blog for the last seven months because I have been in pain and like all animals when I am in pain I hide and try to lick my wounds. On May 7, 2011, Hubby#1 and I made the heartbreaking decision to let our four-year-old Golden Darby go as his cancer had progressed to the point where pain for him was inevitable and approaching like a steamroller. Neither of us could fathom the thought of seeing our baby go through that and watch his quality of life deteriorate. It devastated our remaining seven-year-old Golden Dustin and us. I have several posts about how unique and special Darby was but events have prevented me from posting them and the post below is part of the reason why.
The other day a colleague said how awesome my smile was as I said hello to him. Yes, I have a high wattage smile usually but because I have been living in such a haze of pain for months that I was amazed I was still managing to smile. I guess some things truly are reflexive.
I have been struggling to heal from a broken shoulder. I broke my shoulder in the most boring of ways. Slipping and falling in the pouring rain as I arrived for a meeting. The location was ten feet from my destination. That destination was the University of Alberta Hospital (UAH) and yes, I slipped mere feet from the 112th Street entrance. I knew right away that I had hurt my shoulder – declining help on that side as witnesses rushed to help me back up. Yep, I went to the meeting. For a few minutes when I realized I simply could not lift my arm at all and made my way to Triage. I was not crying (I have never cried when I have hurt myself) but I was wincing in pain —I have a high pain tolerance but I am human!
This occurred in May of 2011 (May 25 to be exact) and in the early months when my right (write) shoulder was completely immobilized I was helpless – ack. Not easy for an archetypical Type A like myself who finds asking for help of any kind near impossible! Though I would do anything for family or friends and casual acquaintances if I can asking for myself fills me with terror. Nevertheless, I had no choice at times, I was unable to drive, and cut my own food, brush my hair properly even getting dressed was a challenge if I deviated from a t-shirt and slip on yoga pants! (I had to dress up at one point when I was still fully immobilized and I have determined that putting on nylons (pantyhose) should be included in the rehabilitation process. It took me over half an hour to pull them on left-handed only without ripping them and it was quite the exhausting workout!)
The fact I tried to attend the meeting before receiving medical attention says a lot about my pain tolerance level and stubbornness!
I have always been like that…
I tripped and fell slicing my forehead on a glass door before I had even turned one. Once I got over the initial shock of the injury and the pooling blood, I never cried again. Not a peep when I was in the emergency room, when the doctor put a needle in my forehead to numb the area for stitches or even as the gash was stitched up. Indeed my Dad says I very helpfully held my bangs up, out of the way while chatting (in a very limited manner I am certain, wow how that would change!). I had stitches again by the time I was two and again on my forehead same attitude. (This would continue to be regular pattern for me as I would gash some area or another and would need to be stitched up.) I have scars from stitches in several places on my forehead, under my right eyebrow, several just under my chin, my right hand and too many to count on my forever bashed up legs and knees. Once when I was getting stitches put in my hand, the anesthesia amount was inadequate and I felt the first stitch go in before saying that my hand was not fully numb. Getting a local in your hand is the weirdest experience – it swells up like a baseball glove, which is a disconcerting feeling. I even once had stitches put in “bush style” as in with no anesthesia and a very big sewing needle. Can you sense a pattern here?
Yes, I am extremely clumsy and accident-prone. My husband has jokingly (I sincerely hope!) that identifying my body would be a breeze as I have scars and healed fractures that would be impossible to miss. Oh yeah, I also had eight of my top baby teeth knocked out by a steel bucket when I was four while defending a younger cousin from a bully resulting in expensive and extensive orthodontic treatment when my permanent teeth (finally!) came in when I was seven-eight.
I have had broken bones ranging from the aforementioned shoulder to various toes, fingers, cheekbones, nose and a nasty ankle AND leg break on the same night but in separate falls! I got up and walked on my broken ankle despite knowing it was fractured before I had even hit the ground because it was cold, I was alone and unable to summon attention without “walking” up to my neighbours house.
I have torn ligaments galore, been cold cocked, been knocked unconscious (received concussions, explains a few things!), donated bone marrow and have never uttered a peep in pain and have refused pain meds except perhaps for the initial day of injury.
After surgery on my broken ankle about a year later one of the titanium screws worked its way out of the bone, (I could feel it under the skin). I insisted on watching the orthopedist and his intern remove it because it was MY ankle and it was cool seeing them slice a spot and then use a screwdriver to take the offending screw out of the bone!
I am not grossed out by anything and my pain level tolerance is high but the repercussions of my broken shoulder have strained even my forbearance.
My shoulder still aches and my range is no way near back to 100% but I have gamely tried to get back to life resuming working, driving and the like with my former vigor. Except I have favoured my right side, using my left arm and side far more than before and as a result I have been crippled with lower back pain on my left side.
This has been a daily occurrence since October and not a day has gone by where my pain level from that area is not between a “good” 6.5 -7 out of 10 to a “usual” 9.5 to 12.
I have sought medical treatment. I now take arthritis (I have arthritis not surprisingly considering my banged up body but usually do not take medication for it) anti-inflammatory drugs. I go to physiotherapy, bought an inversion table, have had acupuncture and Bowen therapy (a form of massage therapy), done nothing (and I mean nothing), lain flat, sat up with a heating pad behind me, used a full body heat and massage pad but NOTHING has given me more than a few hours of relief from the relentless pain.
I am at the end of my rope.
I am back to the doctor the week of January 23 to see what else can be done, cortisone shots, x-rays, MRI, anything to relieve this never-ending cycle of pain. When it is at the high range (9.5 to 12) I whimper trying to get into the passenger seat of Hubby#1’s Explorer as this range of movement brings excruciating pain (which is saying something since I am already at the top end of pain). Getting into my little banger some days is no easier as I have to lift my left leg into the car because I cannot simply swing my self into the car.
Something has to give and it will not be me. I am not a complainer when I am in pain (usually) but everyone has their limits and I have been pushed past and then some.
Nevertheless, I am smiling through the pain and as in laughing the adage “fake it till you feel it” applies because the body cannot differentiate between the fake or real response. Therefore, if you do see me around and I am smiling for all I am worth just smile back but do not expect a bear hug —ouch!
On a more positive note, we brought a squirming and adorable ball of fluff into our home on October 06, 2011. Dieter, a purebred German Sheppard, was exactly eight weeks old and weighed about 16 pounds. He has brought love and chaos into our lives at a time when it was most needed. Although he is our fourth dog, there are days I despair this will be the puppy that is the death of me! He is now five months old, smart, curious, weighs about 50 pounds is nearly as tall as Dustin and Dustin’s tail is his favourite chew toy!
