9 Pieces of ‘Health Advice’ It’s OK To Ignore if you Have Chronic Illness


Hello Luvs,

Well, I’m sure that you all have those friends &/or that family member who always has “advice” for your chronic illness? Don’t you just want to make them feel how you feel for about 30 minutes, at times? Let them feel the pain and suffer as you do, just for awhile? Better yet, don’t tell them that it’s only for 30 minutes! Let them think they’ll feel that way forever; for life! No end in sight just like you(us) and no cure! What if they thought they had to live with it forever? Do you think they’d be changed?

I get so tired of people giving advice, when they have absolutely no idea what it’s like to look pretty much “fine” on the outside; while feeling so much pain & fatigue.

9 Pieces of ‘Health Advice’ It’s OK to Ignore If You Have a Chronic Illness https://themighty.com/2018/12/bad-health-advice-chronic-illness/

Walking Through The Day With a Pain Warrior


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This is not just a story about me, but a story that many pain warriors live through on a daily basis. I know because I talk to many of them often.  Much of this is “our story”. …..I awaken each day; the first thing that I do is cry inside of my head. My body lay still too long.  Four hours is too long! I feel pain and don’t want to get up, or move because I know it will hurt. I’m so tired of the pain. I lay there and contemplate rising to my feet.  I hear my husband call my name.  He always says “Hello my Love, Good Morning! Time to rise and shine!”  He tells our Kitty, Luna, to come and get me. She always listens to him and she enters our bedroom and meows for me to get on my feet. Still lying there, I think about the day ahead and wonder if it will be a busy day?  Will it be one in which I have to do a few things? Or will it be a day that I can be a bit quiet?

After 40 minutes has passed from the time I took my medication, I attempt to get up.  First I sit up and I feel the pain in my back. The Degenerative disc disease, Scoliosis, Spondylitis and multiple herniated and bulging discs, make it almost an impossible feat. The medication does help. It takes the pain down from a 9 to about a 5; and I finally get up.  But then there’s the stairs to tackle. I hold onto the rail and then I lean on the wall. I fumble my way down the stairs, as my cat scampers past me, ready for her cuddles on my way to the kitchen. First, I sit on the ottoman and pet her for a few moments and then it’s time for breakfast. My husband has already made the tea and has my toast ready to go.

He goes to work and I go to my chair, my recliner. In my spot, there is a pillow and a blanket and a settle in for a look on the computer.  What fantastic things have happened overnight on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram? I answer a few questions, maybe I help a few people in my support groups? People always volunteer to help me with my groups because they are becoming large for one person to handle on a daily basis. People mean well, but they are also in pain and have much going on in their lives.  Eventually they stop helping and I’m alone again.  I don’t want to give up, because some people just need someone to listen, anyone.  I like being that person. I want to help and do something of value with my life.

Maybe after awhile at the computer, I will either write a blog post, an article for the National Pain Report; or maybe I’ll sign a song that day.  I love the beauty of ASL and the way the emotions come out of my body, hands and face. I can feel something other than pain. Until I’m finished; and then the pain is worse.  I have to rest and take more medications. My husband comes home for lunch because he says that he likes to check in on me.  We’ve been married for 20 years and he always comes home for lunch. I am one lucky lady to have such a knight in shining armor at my side. He never complains about doing so much. He cleans, cooks and does the laundry; after mowing the lawn and fixing whatever needs repaired in the house. Still, he never complains.

In the afternoon, I may visit my granddaughters and my daughter who live only a few blocks away. I’m still able to drive for “personal errands” and for about 10 minutes at a time. If I visit them, I get lots of hugs and kisses and more love and life than you can even imagine. They are rays of sunshine in a world of pain.  They don’t understand that I am in pain and that’s a good thing for now.  I like to light up their faces and give them love and receive that same love in return. My daughter and I may do a couple of errands or have a coffee and chat. It seems like a nice day, right? It’s true, it’s the nicest day you could imagine. Then I come home and I sink into my recliner and sometimes my cat will come and sit with me.  Her love is unconditional and she seems to know when I’m in more pain than usual. She gives me comfort and love, unconditional love.  By that time it is 3:30 in the afternoon.  It’s been a full day and my pain has risen from the activities.  I can’t do anything else.  I don’t have the energy to make dinner anymore. The fatigue is deep and lasts for long periods of time.  I rest and sometimes I nod off in my chair. The cat jumps off of the chair and the back door opens.  My hero is home! The love of my life and my forever soul-mate comes home from another day at his job as a teacher. We muster up something to eat for dinner. Mostly, for him; because eating has become something difficult now. It’s not fun or anything I look forward to anymore. I have IBS, S.I.B.O., and Gastroparesis. There’s so much I’m incapable of eating now.  If I just throw caution to the wind, and eat to be social or “fun”; I suffer more.  There’s the nausea, constant nausea and burning whether it is high or low in my stomach; it’s awful either way.  Then if I eat just a tiny bit too much, I will be sick for hours afterwards. This is something that others don’t see or understand.  My husband sees and watches it from the other side. Then there are the others who I “talk to” on the other side of this computer. Many of them truly do understand.

Then, my friends; it is evening time. The sun goes down and we watch some Television together and maybe read or “play” on the internet for awhile.  All too soon, it is 10:30 pm and my husband goes up to bed. He. has to work in the morning.  He kisses me goodnight and tells me not to stay up too long.  I tell him that I will come to bed as soon as I feel like I’m able to sleep.  Time goes by and it’s one in the morning, then 2:00 AM and 3:00 AM.   I start to nod off as I’m messaging the other “night owls” who are my fellow pain warriors. They are with me at night, because they too cannot sleep either.  We try to give each other support and the strength to persevere.  Finally, the sparks of chatter start to diminish online.  I too, feel like I truly want sleep to come and save me from my body and the pain that is within. Much of the pain is physical, but there is no lack of mental anguish.

***I come from a family that doesn’t know or care that I exist. They are called “M.N.’s” or Malignant Narcissist’s.  I try to stay away, keep my distance. For some reason, I cannot “let go” totally.  Maybe I feel that I owe them something for bringing me into this world. But truly it’s been nothing but pain and abuse as far back as I can remember. Then the failed marriages because I didn’t know how to feel love until I met my soul-mate, Craig. We’ve been married 20+ years now. I thank God for him every day because nobody has ever truly loved me until I met him. Some people ask me why I always go back for more abuse and more pain? I guess he’s still my father and one of my two brothers is still my brother. The other one, I cannot even discuss and won’t.  My oldest brother used to try and protect me, but one day he stopped.  It was the day that I told our family “secrets”. That is when my father took his revenge and turned everyone he could, against me.  I’m not sure why they listen to him? I’ve always been kind hearted, loving and as good a person as I can be. But now the entire family, including dozens of cousins, have shoved me “under the rug”. I am an an outcast.  None of them will talk to me or even look at me if we meet.

I don’t get invited to the very very large family reunions.  Even though I was the only one in my nuclear family that ever attended those functions.  I always took my children to them while they were growing up. I wanted them to have a sense of “family” and belonging. I helped my one cousin, the only one who is the same age as me. She is 6 months older and I always got her “hand-me-downs”. I went for food when she had her big garage sales. I helped her when the family turned against her as her mother was dying. I told her not to let them “punish” her and told her to hold her head up high. They were so mean to her because she couldn’t let her mother come and stay with her when she was very sick and dying. I felt her pain as she told me the stories of her abusive childhood;  we could relate to one another.

But **one day, in 2002, I was in a terrible car accident which started all of the physical pain. No one came for me except my husband. Again, my knight in shining armor there with me and at my side through thick and thin, good and bad.  ***My cousin said she couldn’t come to our house and sit with me for awhile so my husband could do errands. I couldn’t be left alone as I could not even go to the bathroom or dress/undress myself or.    cut my own food. She said that “seeing me in so much pain, made her depressed.  If she was depressed, then her family would suffer.”  Therefore, she could not see me anymore. I’ve not seen her again except at a couple of funerals, but she won’t even look at me. ****I went to my favorite Aunt’s funeral yesterday.  It was in a church and my dad didn’t come because he would have had to have been “nice to me”; and then they might know that we’ve tried to “talk a little bit now and then” again.  Only one cousin spoke to me and only one other even looked my way and smiled.  My Aunts children were welcoming. They knew that their mom and I had a relationship. My cousin, her daughter, told me “mom wouldn’t have had it any other way”; when I thanked her for “letting me come to the funeral”.

**I watched my family all sitting in the same church, singing “Let there Be Peace on Earth”. While the words came out of their mouths, there was no peace in that room.  Only a gathering of many who really don’t know each other anymore, but had one thing in common.  That one thing was the love for a woman who knew how to live and how to love. So you see, there is physical pain and there are other kinds of pain. Some of these exacerbate the others. We just have to surround ourselves with those who want us in their lives.  Those who want to give and receive; or share love with us.

When my head finally hits the pillow at night, I lie down and listen to my husband’s breathing. So glad to hear those sounds of life and know that this person beside me has truly shown me what real love is all about.  I never knew if I would have that, some people never get to know it.  People who are “damaged” like me, have a hard time very often knowing the difference between real love and hurtful kinds of “twisted” love.  I’m fortunate to know this man and lucky to have his love and to have him to love. I try to let the sleep come to me. Relax, sigh and listen to the breath sounds and the sound of the cat purring next to me. This is my real “medicine” in life.  They, along with my children and grandchildren are what makes me happy. I try to remember these thoughts as I fitfully sleep for a few hours, only to wake up to the “fear” of getting up on my feet once more again tomorrow.

 

 

 

 

What You See Is Not What You Get!


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Having Chronic Pain is unlike the pain following a surgery or even the pain after an injury. Many things about Chronic pain are not seen with our eyes. There are so many “invisible diseases” that involve living with exhaustion, illness and pain.  Many people think they know about these issues. If they’ve not witnessed life with a chronic pain patient, then they truly cannot understand or know what we live with on a daily basis. People are misinformed and sometimes quick to judge persons living with pain day after day.  Some think we are lazy, anti-social or just rude.  We cancel appointments, shopping trips and dinner dates with our friends and family. But we are not any of the above. We are people who have hopes, dreams and inspirations; just as anyone else. The issue is that our futures don’t include many of those same things after we become chronic pain patients.  We must grieve our losses and find new hopes and dreams.  This is the price that we pay for living with chronic pain 24/7/365.

I am still “me” underneath the chronic fatigue and pain.  I still want to talk with you and hear about your day, family and dreams.  In between the days of staying in my PJ’s and lying in my bed or on the sofa, I try hard to be a part of your “normal” world.  Some days I may even look “normal” to you. In fact, most of the time, I probably appear to be “just like everybody else.  I try to wear nice pants, cute dresses and sometimes I put on make up, just like you do! If you visit my Social Media photo feeds, you’ll see someone who “looks normal”, holding onto her grandchildren’s hands, smiling and actually joyful underneath the pain somewhere.  Sometimes even sitting on the floor with them.  You may read about me “babysitting” for our grandchildren; or going out to dinner with our friends.  You may even want to “judge” me by saying to yourself “How can she be that sick or in that much pain, if she’s doing all of these things?”  If you think like that, I can’t blame you because I once thought those same misinformed thoughts.  What you don’t see, is how I get to the floor or how long I am actually down there.  You don’t see my husband helping me (and doing most of the work) to get me up and off of the floor.  You don’t actually know how long I am down there or how many pillows may be behind my back. You also don’t know that I most likely stayed home in my pajama’s all day until 4:00 pm when we had dinner plans at 5:15 pm.  You also aren’t privy to the information of how long I might’ve stayed at dinner and “if” I was able to even eat anything that night.  Not only do I have several chronic pain illnesses, but many of them are invisible to you. They are very much visible to me. I can “see” them with each new line on my face and each new grey hair that gets covered up each month. I can’t only “see” the pain, but I feel it with every part of my being. It doesn’t go away, not ever.  Though some days are better or worse than others; the chronic pain of “Invisible Disabilities” and “Invisible Illness” is apparent to me every minute of every day.  Often I fight with myself about going to sleep at night.  Do I try to go to bed at a more normal time and maybe get 4 -5 hours rest? Or do I stay up until I drop; then fall asleep quickly and wake up in just 2 or 3 hours?  If I sleep more than 2 or 3 hours, I will awaken and cry.  Whether it be inner tears or outward ones, I will cry from feeling as though someone set my body on fire due to the CRPS. I will have tears from feeling like my neck and back are broken from the Degenerative Disc disease, Spondylosis, Scoliosis and/or multiple herniated/bulging discs in both my cervical and lumbar spine; not to mention the Chiari malformation I in my neck. Yes, if I move or get up before I’m ready, I definitely will cry.  It’ a routine that we have, you know?  My husband gets up at 6:00 am every day to give me my medicine; just so that I will be able to get up with him a couple of hours after that. He is my hero.

You cannot feel Gastroparesis, but if I eat one wrong food at dinner time; I will be up all night and very sick. My husband, who is also my soul-mate and my caregiver; knows all too well about these long nights.  I have worries, though he continues to tell me that they are unfounded; that he will get tired of all of this one day. It’s not much fun to be with someone who is constantly complaining about pain, so I try to keep it to a minimum.  But even to him, my pain is not invisible.  He knows the grimace of  CRPS and the fidgeting of the intensifying pain on an outing.  He knows that when I start rocking back and forth, it’s his cue to step in and say “time to go home”.  I know that my own family gets frustrated with me because I’m not able to babysit “alone” or have kids dropped off on the spur of the moment.  I cannot commit to babysitting for the little ones under school age for a week.  I’m not able to help take the load off of my children and their spouses, so that they can go on a trip. There are many things that I cannot do but there’s so much that I still have to give.

Please don’t judge what you do not understand. If you think you know, then go and read some more about chronic illnesses and pain. Spend time with someone like me and see how impaired the activities of daily living have become.  I’m probably not always much fun to hang out with, but I’m still “me” inside.  Digging through the pain and exhaustion, there’s a real person inside, who still has a heart and feelings that can be hurt.  Feelings that are probably more fragile than most because of the judgements, stares and hurtful words that come from some people who are misjudging and misinformed.  I’ve had nasty notes put on my windshield, that would make anyone cry.  One note said this “How dare you take this HC parking space! It must be a “mental thing”! I hope you become handicapped for the rest of your life, so you know how it feels to have someone take your parking spot”! Yes, indeed; that was the note left on my car at a little market right across the street from my house.  I had my cane in the grocery cart and the little blue HC parking permit on my rear view mirror.  But I was still judged and torn to shreds because of the way I look.

Please know the difference between being able to stand for 20 minutes and being able to stand all day.  The difference between having the flu and feeling that same way for many many years! Try and understand that what I might be able to do today, I probably won’t be able to do tomorrow.  Don’t say “Oh you look happy and healthy” or tell me that I’m looking or sounding “better”.  I’m just trying to cope with the life that I have been dealt. Please don’t judge me if I try to do awareness events or fundraisers for the causes of my illnesses and those of my friends.  Though I may “do” these things; I definitely know that I will “pay” for it later.  I will rest for days in between and sometimes weeks.  But I deserve to do things and to try and be happy; even if it is in between the pain at its worst and best.  Please know that getting out and doing things doesn’t make me feel better, it actually makes me feel worse for days at a time.

Chronic pain is hard for you to understand. It wreaks havoc on the body and the mind.
It is exhausting and exasperating.  I’m doing my best to cope and live my life to the best of my ability.  I ask you to bear with me, and accept me as I am.

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The Pain That Never Ends


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I married to get out of the house, when I was just 20 years old. That lasted 10 weeks and it was so terrible that I won’t even discuss that time period. Luckily that marriage was annulled and I moved away to another city to work at a school for the Deaf. I lived between my 2 aunts homes and got to work with Deaf children. I loved that job and I was also Interpreting for the Deaf at a great church. I got to participate in 2 drama groups that did sign language or “ASL” to songs and choreographed dance. I had a wonderful time during the year that I lived in Arizona. It was 1982-1983 and I celebrated my 21st birthday there and was part of a church youth group with wonderful friends.
I arrived home from Arizona and later met someone. We dated, got married and we were married for 8 years. We had 2 daughters, a dog and a beautiful home. I won’t belabor the story of how the Marriage ended because people can be hurt still today, from that “story”. I will say that I obtained help from a shelter and the Women’s Resource center. I moved out of our home a few months later when my older daughter finished kindergarten. Their father moved 1800 miles away and rarely saw them. I took care of them all by myself. I was the only person that was always there for them! Even if I had to leave my job in the middle of the day to be there for them and return to work afterwards; I would do that. So much has happened in my life. Most people would think that it’s horrific, but I soldiered on. I was almost completely alone but the three of us had each other. We were very lucky to have received some help from some very good people, churches and counselors.
When my oldest daughter was in 4th grade, I went on field trips and I took every chance possible to help out at the girls’ elementary school. I started a “Sign Language club” at their school, for a group of 4th and 5th graders. I taught 35 children some songs in Sign Language and did that for about 4 or 5 years. I love children and had so much fun interacting with them. I would teach fun songs in Sign Language and at the the end of the year we would have a show for the parents and the rest of the school. The “Silent Impressions Sign Language Club” was after school each Friday. I had that day off from my job and used it for volunteering in the classroom or at school and for teaching the Sign Language club. Towards the end of that year, my daughters’ teacher and I started to discuss meeting up for a coffee. He was a single dad and I was a single mom but we decided not to date until the school year was finished. Once we started dating we found that we were truly “soul-mates” and a little over a year later; we were married in the Wedding Chapel on Valentines day 1997.
One Saturday afternoon during the Summer of 2002, my husband and I were meandering & sipping lemonade at an outdoor Craft fair; while deciding where to go for dinner. The girls were with their friends and so we headed towards our town to a restaurant. As we were driving through a green light, a man ran through the red light and “t-boned” our mini Van with his SUV. I only remember a terrible burning smell after screaming “OH MY GOD”! The “lights went out” and I have vague memories of being in an ambulance and at a hospital and crying due to horrible pain. Luckily my husband was not hurt and a Police officer took him home to get our other car and our kids. I have no memory of the time without him being there with me.
I could not stand or barely move. My husband says that people were leaving the halls because my screams of pain were too hard for them to hear. My case was given to a trauma Dr. and I was admitted to the hospital. After 5 days my husband called my Neurologist (who I knew because of a Long thoracic nerve injury in 1999); and signed me out against medical advice. The weren’t doing anything for me. My husband told them that I was not acting like myself. I wet the bed and could not even stand to go to the bathroom. Instead of diagnosing me correctly with the TBI, that I later was finally diagnosed with; they sent up a Psych consult. They told us that I was “acting that way due to being abused”. My husband stayed with me the whole time and it was still a horrible experience. I left the hospital and that’s when questions started being answered. My then, G.P. and Neurologist helped get me the testing that was needed. I was found to have 2 torn rotator cuffs and multiple herniated/bulging lumbar and cervical discs. I had a torn Meniscus, sprained ankles and wrist. Also, I was diagnosed with Chiari I malformation, which I was born with but until the MVA, it was “sleeping”. Well, it awakened and I started having the worst migraines in the back of my neck and head. I could not hold my head by myself. My husband had to put me in a wheelchair with a yardstick behind my back and head with a pillow holding up my head. I couldn’t dress or undress myself or even go to the restroom alone. I couldn’t cut my own food or sleep in my bed. The insurance company sent a hospital bed for me to use or I slept in our recliner. I was in the most pain I’d ever known, outside of childbirth. The Physical Medicine & Rehab Dr. sent me for Neuro-Psych testing and I was found to have a TBI or “Traumatic Brain Injury”. The report said that my “short term memory was in the toilet”!! I went to a TBI Rehabilitation Center, daily from 9:00 am – 3:00 pm for 3 years. I had several different areas of nerve damage. It was discovered that I have a convergence insufficiency in my eyes and Moderate hearing loss in my ears. I needed Prisms on my glasses and 2 hearing aids. As I continued to faint nobody would help me or even listen. My husband knew something else was wrong and so did I. But to get Dr’s to listen when things are complicated and when so many things wrong; is very difficult. I saw a Neuro-Cardiologist because the TBI center sent me to him finally because of the fainting. I was diagnosed with Dysautonomia and POTS. I had Coronary spasms and a permanent pacemaker was placed. I ended up having 8 surgeries! I had visited so many shoulder Dr’s but none of them would listen to my issue regarding a “nerve zing” that went down my left arm from my left shoulder. One Dr. said to me “What part of “I can’t fix it, don’t you understand? Is it your brain injury?” OMG!! He was horrible and while I was walking out with my walker; the girls in his office looked horrified by what their boss had just said to me. I had several awful experiences with physicians, until one finally listened to me. It only takes ONE Dr. Folks! One to listen to you and help you. I ended up finding out that during that entire year that I was visiting shoulder Doctors; my biceps tendon had ruptured during the accident and it had grown onto the bone incorrectly. I had to have open shoulder surgery! They had to un-attach my Biceps tendon and reattach it with 2 screws. It was very painful.
I went through so much! Later, I had my 7th surgery, which was in 2007 on my right foot. It was the start of another nightmare! I was told that it would be a 30 minute surgery. I had been put on Coumadin, a blood thinner; due to having a heart attack in 2005. Following that Heart attack, I was diagnosed with Atrial fibrillation. After that, in 2006, I suffered a CVA or stroke. The surgeon didn’t want to take me off of the Coumadin and so she put a blood pressure cuff around my ankle to stop blood flow to the right foot. The surgeon came out and told my husband after 90 minutes, that “once inside, the foot was much more gnarly” than she originally had thought. It took much longer than expected and there was no blood going into my foot during that time. Five days after my surgery, I was hobbling along in our kitchen and suddenly a big golfball sized lump popped out of my ankle and was purple, black and blue instantly! It felt like knives sticking in my ankle and I was writhing in pain. My husband took me to the E. R. but nobody wanted to help me. I sat there crying in so much pain while they “were waiting for another ambulance to come for the girl in the next bed who was “stable”. I was crushed again that no one would help me. We paged the Dr. who did the surgery and left the E. R.! She told us to meet her at the surgery center the next morning. I had to make it through the night like that! It was so much pain! She said that the “synovial joint sac had burst over my ankle joint “ and that is why it was so painful! She gave me Fentanyl Lollipops and told me to take them until the swelling could go down. That would take time & then the pain would lessen, slowly. I went for my 6 week check up and told her that the pain was worse than before I started. She told me that I had “a little RSD” and gave me some “Lyrica” I waited and things got worse and the Lyrica was horrible with nasty side effects. It did nothing but make things worse for me. I went to another Orthopedic Dr. and got a 2nd opinion. He walked by the room and said that my foot looked like “classic RSD” and he sent me directly to a pain clinic.
Prior to that MVA, I had only known the pain of abuse, and non physical types of pain. Childbirth was painful because I had 2 C-sections. The second time was a C-section after 43 hours of labor! But it was worth it because I got to have a beautiful baby both times! Also, there was an end to the pain of labor! There is no end to my current pain. The CRPS or “RSD” has gone systemic or full body since my 2nd pacemaker placement in 2013. Everything that could go wrong, has gone wrong. Mostly, because Dr.’s would not listen or had a preconceived notion of me and who I am. But I am strong! I am a survivor and it’s time to listen to me! I’m fighting for the pain patients and I won’t give up.img_3995

Broken Hearts,HOPE & Answered Prayers


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Hello Luvs,

I never thought that this day would actually come. I’ve been praying every day, hoping every day for 9 years +, that my family would be back together again.  I married at age 22, in 1984. We had 2 daughters and in 1992 became legally divorced.  I won’t bother you with all of the trials and tribulations of everything that we’ve gone through, but I do wish to tell you a story of “HOPE”.

When my ex husband left in 1991, I was suddenly alone with 2 daughters, ages 3 and 5 1/2.  My oldest had just started Kindergarten and the youngest just had her 3rd birthday. First I cried until I couldn’t cry another tear. Then I toughened up and bucked up and mustered up the strength and courage to do it on my own.  I had felt pretty much and had actually been pretty much “alone” for the most part of those 8 years. On a Saturday night he took me out to dinner and told me he wanted a divorce. We’d met in Late August 1983 and only 7 months later, in April 1984, we  got married.   So, like I said, he told me that he wanted a divorce on a Saturday night. I freaked out a bit, cried a lot and by Monday, I had gone from a “stay at home mom” to a full time Interpreter for the Deaf at a school system.  I thank God for going to College, especially at that point in my life.

That was the end of September and by June I knew that my “dream job” was not going to work. I needed health insurance because I found out that I truly was on my own; for the most part. My parents lived 35 or more miles away, my mother was very ill and they couldn’t babysit or help in that way.  Next, I got a job at a major University hospital. I was an Outpatient clerk III and an Interpreter for the Deaf. I liked my new job and the independence it gave me. But the first few months I could not get to day care on time to pick up my daughters because the latest pick up time was 6:00 pm. I could not get there without an accident, before at least 6:20 pm because I got off at 5:30pm. I got my father to agree to sit in the car with my daughters until I got there and I was grateful for that. Though I never really understood why he couldn’t have taken them just straight across the street to our apartment and let them get their backpacks off and start homework or get a drink? But hey, I was happy with what I got. I was very thankful. I awoke at 5:10 am every work morning M-Fri, and got ready, showered etc. Then at 6:15 am, I awoke my 3 1/2 and 6 year old daughters. I cleaned them up, did their hair beautifully every day with bows and curls and such. We never “looked” poor!  I fed them breakfast, listened to anything they needed to talk about and we left for Day Care at 7:15 am.  The worst was in the deepest darkest of the Michigan Winters, and taking my babies out into the dark of night and the below 20 degree temps most days, or worse. My youngest used to cry every Sunday night and I hated putting her through it but I had no choice. I loved them and they needed someone responsible and loving to care for them.  I didn’t want to lose their respect some day and let them think that I just sat on my rear end eating chocolates! NO!  I went out and as hard as it was, I got a full time job and for awhile even went back to College to better myself.

For years I had no child support or “on” again and “off” again child support.Finally, when my father in law started paying it, then it came regularly and life became just a tad bit better when I knew that I had  enough to get by for 2 weeks until my paycheck came; and with only usually $20 to spare. I got food stamps and Medicaid insurance for about 6 months, until I could get my own insurance and until I made only $80 per month too much to get food stamps. I was so proud though!! I was soooo proud when I made $80 a month too much to get the $250 worth of monthly food stamps.

So life went on…..much happened and it was hard for us. We all survived and I remarried in 1997 on Valentines day. Then to make this story more about the good than the bad, I have to tell you why I named this story about “HOPE”.  In 2004, my oldest daughter became estranged from us, her family at age 18. She had to find her own way and figure some things out on her own. It broke my heart and I’m pretty sure she felt that her heart was broken too. But days turned into months and then years went by….and by…and by…..

I prayed and I hoped and every Christmas that went by, every Birthday that past and each Mother’s day that came and went, I cried and prayed and cried some more. I would listen to songs and look at photo’s that reminded me of  much harder days but days in which I still had hope, in many ways.  Don’t get me wrong, I love my husband of now 18 years. He is the best thing that ever happened to me & us in  life, other than having my girls. He is my soul-mate and I love him and he loves me and we are a team.

Nine years ago or more, when all of that happened, I had bought a necklace that was gold and silver and has the word “HOPE” on it. I swore to wear it until my oldest daughter and I were together again.   So much more happened throughout all of those years, but that is not for me to write about today.  Today I am only looking forward and not backwards. Finally, today, I can take off my HOPE necklace if and when I so choose, because my prayers have been answered.

I had lunch with a very old friend in August, her name is Janet.  We had our first baby girls only weeks apart and became great friends.  She moved an hour and half away and then I moved and then I got divorced and then her husband passed and life kept changing for us. But through it all we stayed friends.  She met me for coffee one day in August 2014. I told her that I was “losing hope of ever getting back with my oldest daughter”.  I told her how much I love my daughter and always have and always will. I told her how much I wanted her in my life and how we all missed her so much. She told me to “just call her”. But I was just a bit nervous to call out of the blue like that. I mean I had sent notes, letters, gifts etc over the years but then I sort of “gave up”….not on her…but just on trying to contact her again.  So she told me “why not try and text her and just tell her how you are feeling?”…I thought about it and then I did it the very next day!

I am here to tell you to NEVER give UP HOPE!! I texted my daughter and I told her that “I love her” and I told her that “I was thinking of her and hope she was doing OK?” She told me she was “tired of being pregnant and due in a couple of weeks with her 2nd child.”  I had heard that she got married 5 years ago, but I had not been invited nor ever told about it until my cousin in AZ told me the day afterwards.  I was heartsick and heartbroken again.

So…back to the good stuff!  I texted her and she texted me back. I asked if I could have a photo of my granddaughter who was 20 months and she sent me 5 pictures! I was ecstatic!! She said  that she “couldn’t choose” just one single photo…and I was glad for that! Then I asked if she might let me know when the new baby is born and also send me a photo. She did just that!! We started talking then more and more and texting and one day she invited me to come over after she’d gotten home for a few days from the hospital and having her 2nd C-section (she had 2 C sections, just like me)!

Her mother in law was there and my daughter and I hugged and we laughed and we cried. Her mother in law was so nice and funny and I was put at ease right away. This was the beginning for us again. A chance to start new. We have had over 6 weeks now of spending time together. We talk daily and we see each other almost 4 times a week if not more! Sometimes I sit in the car and let her go in and get her errands done, so she doesn’t have to take 2  babies in with her. Other times she comes over to the park near my house or to my house and we have a tea party! I got down my girls’ old small table and chairs set and cleaned them up.  We had a tea party and she and Olivia and I had such a beautiful time.

I will always include her in everything because I remember my mother always took the girls into her room and left me sitting on the couch by myself after I had driven 45 minutes to their house!  She always wanted to have “girl talk” with them “ALONE” and I was not invited. It hurt my feelings but I always figured that as long as my girls were happy, then I was OK too.  But I really enjoyed all of us having our tea party together, even little newborn baby girl was there with us, sleeping…..but feeling the good feelings in the room.

On Monday of this week, my oldest daughter and I drove an hour to her younger sisters house, my youngest daughter and her husband live about an hour from here.  My oldest daughter and I only live about 4 blocks away from each other now! I love it so much!  So anyways, my youngest daughters, 26th birthday is next week, so we took a picnic lunch and went to their house and to the park and went for a little walk.. This was the first time we’d been together in almost a decade! It is a wonderful feeling!!!  I almost forgot to tell you that a week or two after we started seeing each other,  my husband and my oldest daughter saw one another; they hugged and he got teary eyed.

Life is so much better when you can let go of the past and all of the hurts, big and small.  If you can let it all go and start over and refreshed with a new found way of life and have no need for hurt or revenge or anything but kindness and love and a sense of family…that’s when life will turn around!  When I could finally stop and think and let go of all of the old “junk”, that is when my “HOPE” came true and my life is so much more fulfilled now.  Of course there are times in life when one might have been damaged physically, verbally, emotionally and worse. Unfortunately, sometimes in those cases, it’s not always just a matter of moving on. Sometimes just forgiving in your heart, can lessen the load and it can help you move on just to have forgiveness in your own heart. We cannot force anyone else to think, feel or act in any certain ways. We can’t force anyone to feel how we want them to feel.

I am in chronic pain from RSD/CRPS , RA, DDD, SSS, OA, Dysautonomia/POTS/NCS and many other health issues.  I was in a MVA in 2002 and have suffered through 12 surgeries and alot of pain. I have had a heart attack, a CVA (stroke) and I’ve gone to many Dr’s visits. I am through it and sort of on the other side now; and couldn’t be happier, unless of course the pain was gone.  But it’s a lot easier to bear when you feel loved and you are being more loving yourself.  I am so happy that my family is together again.  I will never again hold onto anything bad in my mind, heart or soul.  I give it up to God and I am going to enjoy life as best that I can.  I will have my days in pain when I cannot do anything, but I will have the love of my daughters and granddaughters.  I love them,  my husband and their husbands Thank you for reading my story and please…NEVER give up HOPE…..it does come, but in “his” time, not in ours.  We don’t know why?? But God does know what he wanted me or all of us to learn first.  Thank you again… also thanks for allowing me  the pleasure of posting a few photos from our day at my youngest daughters house and a few others too.

One more thing before I sign off for today.  I wanted to apologize for being away from my writing for a whole month. I try to write weekly or bi-weekly.  As you can see from my story above and the photo’s, I was just very busy this month; allowing things to happen naturally and waiting for the best time to tell you this wonderful news!   imagesabc

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Doctors Are Only Human….


I have been to too many Dr’s since my auto accident of 2002. I have had my share of good and kind, helpful men of medicine. But then I also have had more than my fair share of mean and inhumane and insensitive medical and osteopathic physicians. I suffered a brain injury in that car accident and had to go into brain injury rehab for 3 years following. I have a terrible short term memory, when I once had memorized my full address book! I had a photographic memory in which I could look at something and study it as if studying for a test. Later I could recall that image in my mind. Now I can’t do either! My cerebellum is injured and will not get better. I love to write and as for reading, I have to read, re-read and re-read. I then get frustrated and go back to re-read again and then maybe even another time. Finally, I may retain the “idea” of something in a book or an article, but that’s as much as I can retain now for later recall. I am only telling you that because I do remember how awful I felt after leaving a shoulder orthopedic Dr’s office in 2003, after that MVA. I had been to visit several shoulder Doc’s by then…and knee Dr’s and heart Dr’s and so on. I had yet to visit the Cleveland clinic but that was to come later on. This shoulder Dr. said to me “What part of “I CAN’T HELP YOU, DONT YOU UNDERSTAND? Is it the brain injury or what?” Oh My Gosh! I was mortified as was his office staff. I left in tears with the man from the driving company, who transported me that day, also flabbergasted by this Dr’s words. That man was definitely NOT a Healer. I’ve had many more of those awful things happen to me in many different Dr’s offices. But I didn’t give up or lose hope. I kept going until I finally found someone to listen to me. Someone who didn’t want to blame everything on the abuse issues I suffer. I found a shoulder Dr. who sent me to the Cleveland clinic and they agreed with his diagnosis. They had thought they might do a “cadaver muscle / nerve transfer” surgery. But then they felt that I had too many other pain areas and that would be a huge, major surgery along with only fixing one small pain issue. I was sent back to the kind shoulder Dr. in Michigan, Dr. Jeff and he listened to me and touched my shoulder in a certain way. He knew right away that I had besides 2 torn rotator cuffs, a ruptured biceps tendon. It had ruptured a year earlier in that car accident but nobody would listen to me. I had so much pain and so many issues that I was “poo poo’ed” by many health professionals; until I finally found a great team that has been helping me. Dr Jeff did a surgery to detach the ruptured biceps tendon from the bone and reattach it with 2 screws. It fixed the nerve “zings” and though it was a painful surgery after 2 frozen shoulders/adhesive capsulitis for a year and 2 torn rotator cuffs. Soooooooo…….
I just happened to be on “LinkedIn” very very early today. I could not sleep. Something was drawing me to this place I hardly ever visit. I mean…I’m in pain…I am unable to work. I do what I can to try and help others and selfishly that makes me feel just a little bit better. I am in pain 24/7 and to others, I “look good”. People tell me that I “look fine” and that I “look young” and that does feel good. Though at times it makes me feel less cared about and less listened to. I feel judged sometimes and if I complain too much, people don’t want to be around me. Even if I don’t really complain at all, God forbid that I answer that question that just about everyone asks when they run into us someplace “How are you?” Well, my friends….you are damned if you answer that and damned if you don’t answer it. You may talk too long, too deep, or not enough. You just cannot please everyone so please …please yourself. Say what you need to say and to only those that you trust. No sense going into a long history of your issues with people who don’t care or who may try to hurt you with it later on, right? I mean, even those that we love or those that we hope love us back, they get tired too. I can’t say that I blame them as I grew up with an ill mother. She was in and out of the hospitals all of my life. The ambulances came into our house since I was a tot in the ‘onsie’ pJ’s, rubbing my eyes in the middle of the night when strangers with gurneys were taking my mommy away and telling me to “get out of the way”.
So this morning I was reading and I found this blog here on WordPress . It is called “Musings of The Distractible Mind” by Dr Rob Lamberts, LLC. It was an awesome article or post. I subscribed to his blog and now I want to share it with you. I give him all credits for this post as I have copied and pasted what he wrote for you to read because it’s awesome and I think it will help my readers. Mostly because many of my readers are chronic pain patients. Some with RSD/CRPS, like me; and others with various other pain issues and a wide range of medical problems. I admire this Dr’s writings and I am not copying his work as my own, only posting it here to share it with you because it’s awesome. I give you his name and the name of his blog and the name of this blog post. I pray that he is flattered, but if he does get upset, I will do whatever he wishes. I only hope that it will reach and help many people. Here is HIS blog post from July 2014:

Dr’s Are Not Healers

It’s a seductive idea. We doctors possess knowledge and experience which can not only help people, but can save their lives. We get opportunities to be the right person at the right time to offer the right help that makes all of the difference. It’s one of the greatest things about our profession. It’s also one of its greatest traps.

I’ve heard many doctors refer to themselves as “healers,” as if we have some special power to bring about healing in our patients. This idea confers some sort of a higher status and originates, to some, from a “higher calling” to a more noble life. Again, this is a logical step, in that we have opportunities on a regular basis to help and even save the lives of people. It’s natural to believe that somehow the healing power comes from our touch, or even from our knowledge.

It doesn’t. I am not a healer.

Healing is what the patient does, not the doctor. As a physician, I am certainly one who can help the patient find a faster road to healing, but I don’t heal. I help.

Why am I taking the time to talk about this? Why get stressed out over whether I am a helper or a healer? I think that the belief in doctors as healers causes significant harm to both doctors and patients, and that getting a better perspective about the roles of each will greatly improve the care given. Here’s why I believe this is a topic that needs addressing:

1. DOCTORS OFTEN FAIL AT HEALING (AND WILL ALWAYS ULTIMATELY FAIL)

There are many patient problems that do not get better, despite my best efforts. There are countless pains I can’t remove, and many problems I do not solve. Even when I succeed, the success is always temporary, as a new problem will eventually come back. And if healing is our ultimate goal as physicians, we all are total failures, as all of our patients eventually die. If healing is held as our goal, we fight a losing battle. We are the soldiers in the Alamo, offering impotent resistance to an overwhelming force.

If I believe in myself as a healer, I will face constant disappointment and defeat.

2. WHEN HEALING OCCURS, IT IS OFTEN INDEPENDENT OF DOCTORS

My patient may follow my advice and not get better, or may disregard what I say and recover from their problem. My direction is imprecise and imperfect, based on my knowledge and experience along with what I believe to be happening with the patient. But my experience and knowledge may not be right, and my interpretation of what is happening with the patient may be inaccurate. Healing is something that happens in the patient’s body. It’s when they get better, whether or not I am involved in the process.

Belief in myself as a healer is based on a falsely high opinion of my knowledge and abilities.

3. PATIENTS WHO SEE DOCTORS AS HEALERS WILL EXPECT TOO MUCH

I’ve seen it. I’ve heard people’s frustration when I’ve told them I can’t fix their problem or remove their pain. They feel like they shouldn’t have to hurt, or that if there is something wrong it’s because I’ve missed something. These are the folks who buy the “miracle” cures pandered by Dr. Oz and other profiteers. They hear the promises of health and wellness from the media and are disappointed when we can’t offer the same.

By believing I am a healer, my patients will eventually be frustrated and disappointed.

4. DOCTORS WHO TRY TO BE HEALERS DO HARM TO THEIR PATIENTS

The pressure to find the “magic bullet,” or the unifying diagnosis leads many doctors to practice bad medicine. This is a pressure we all feel when faced with the powerless feeling some patients bring. This leads to the ordering of unnecessary tests, performing of unnecessary procedures, and prescription of medications that should not be given. I believe this is what drives many doctors to overly-prescribe narcotic pain medications and other addictive drugs. We don’t want to stand helpless; we want to do something.

To protect my role as a healer, I am drawn away from my training and toward the task of finding a miracle. In doing this I can cause significant harm.

5. TO PROTECT THEIR STATUS AS HEALERS, DOCTORS WILL OPPOSE ANY OTHER PERCEIVED COMPETITION

Doctors in the past have been held with reverence by the general public. We possessed that “secret knowledge” that others didn’t have access to, knowledge that fueled our healing power. Now everyone has access not only to all of the knowledge we have, but also to others who offer alternatives. This causes many doctors to aggressively discourage patients to research their own problems and to attack alternative providers. In defending their turf, however, they are giving patients an ultimatum: us or them. More and more patients are choosing “them” because of this and are rejecting what we offer.

By clinging to our power as healers, doctors have greatly harmed people’s trust in our profession.

So what’s the alternative? Does it really make a difference what we call ourselves as long as we practice medicine? I think it does. Now that I’ve got time to choose the best way to practice, I’ve seen that there is a much better alternative to being a healer: being a helper.

Yeah, that sounds all dull and boring, I know, but it is not only more realistic, it is a much better way to practice medicine. Here’s why:

1. BY BEING A HELPER, I ALWAYS CAN SUCCEED

I may not be able to fix someone’s pain, but I can reduce it or can help them get through it. Every visit is an opportunity to help someone, and once I have helped them I’ve done something that can’t be taken away. I don’t have to see disease as a foe to be defeated, but as an opportunity to give to my patient from my experience and knowledge. Even when patients ultimately succumb to death, I have many opportunities to help them do so with peace.

2. BEING A HELPER KEEPS MY PRIORITIES STRAIGHT

I don’t have some crazy idea that I have special powers. I don’t believe that I’ve been “called” or “chosen” to do magic. I just help people. My focus isn’t on me (as if my care was not a performance), but on the person I am helping.

3. BEING A HELPER KEEPS EXPECTATIONS REALISTIC

If my patients see me as a helper, not a healer, they will listen to my advice with different ears. I am standing beside them, not above them. They are far more likely to listen to me when I am offering help, not pronouncing my wisdom.

4. HELPING MEANS DOING NO HARM

The temptation to offer more tests, more procedures, or dangerous drugs becomes much smaller when I take the role of helper over that of healer. I don’t see a need to prove myself, and will consider the harm of actions much more closely. I won’t over-prescribe pain medications because I will see how it harms my patients in the end.

5. BEING A HELPER LETS ME EXIST IN THE INFORMATION AGE

Like it or not, I am compared to the homeopaths, the herbalists, the chiropractors, and the doctors on TV. When people embrace alternatives to the care I give, they are not necessarily rejecting me; they are seeking what they are when they come to me: to feel better and to lessen their fears about the future. If the help I offer is held next to the miracles promised by others, I think I will win. If patients are helped by others, though, then I should be glad for my patients, not upset about the success of my “rivals.”

We call what we do “health care,” which implies a relationship built for the sake of a person’s health. I believe the best way to accomplish this is to have a realistic view of who we are and what we do. I am not a healer. When I try to be one, I always fail and am always disappointed. I am a helper, and in taking that role I can always have opportunities to succeed.

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