Help My Hurt

Help My Hurt (http://www.helpmyhurt.com/) is a great blog for anyone with chronic pain to take a look at and keep up with regularly. Her latest post is about the Power Over Pain Action Network and the new legislation proposed by congress called the National Pain Care Policy Act of 2009. Check it out! Get involved! Even if you aren't in pain, help me by getting involved!!!! *giggles*

Guess Who Is Tweaking Her Life Again

I needed a swift kick in the rear from my field instructor (several times) to realize that scaling back in my field hours would not hurt anyone, clients or supervisors, and that it would only help me to have a better quality of life so that I can help my clients even more. My parents and instructor have mentioned to me several times that I should scale back, but I refused thinking that if I could only make it through this semester, I would get a long summer break to recover. Tuesday, my instructor asked me, "What are you trying to prove by pushing yourself so hard?" That was a great question, and I let it simmer, because I really didn't know. The only reason I could think of, albeit a stupid one, was that I just wanted to do things the "easy" way, which, ironically, for me was the HARD way.

For the last few weeks I have not been enjoying my life, which for me, is a bizarre thought. I LOVE LIFE!!!! But, I felt as if I was only trying to survive each day to get to a weekend where I could lay flat on my back with the occasional trip out through terrible pain just to feel "normal" and read through hundreds of pages of psych and soc material. That's not my idea of a good time, so the weekends weren't really all that much to look forward to anyway.

As anyone with RSD knows, the pain is fucking unbearable (a curse word is relevant when speaking about this disease), and I am a former long distance runner (we strive for pain!) who cannot even handle this pain some days. My quality of life was decreasing as each week went along, and that is a MISERABLE way to live. Thankfully, my positive attitude cultivated in a year of mental health therapy kept me afloat, but honestly, it could have been easy to fall into a depression while only trying to survive the days. What's the point of even waking up in the morning if that is what life has become?

A physically easier day Tuesday and Wednesday left me with enough mojo this morning to walk my dog up and down infront of my house twice. That seems pathetic, but this is coming from a girl who has NEVER taken her dog for a walk before. I so enjoyed watching him prance around, and it was wonderful for the spirit to be out in nature with my best friend, even if it was only for 8 minutes.

Sooo, with all that said, I'm only scaling back four hours a week, but that alone will give me Tuesdays free to stay off my feet (besides for chelation therapy in the afternoon). I feel as if a HUGE burden has been lifted off of me knowing that there is a period of rest between my very looong, physically, mentally, and emotionally difficult Mondays and Wednesdays.

Life is so precious, and wishing away the days is not the way to bounce along this road called self-determination and personal development. My compassion for others and animals was far more than my compassion for myself, and that is something I am working on changing.

Still Going...

My support group Thursday ran swimmingly! I decided to use the first half of the group to discuss frustrating aspects of having a disability, and the second half of the group was used to explain and discuss positive thinking and positive affirmations. With about five minutes left, I broke out the colored paper, stickers, and markers, and we made our own affirmations to hang up where we can see them every day. The group seemed to really enjoy our time together, and I really enjoyed them! The great pain I was feeling at the time was diminished by the joy I felt working with those people, and the didactic feel of the second half, solidified for me the fact that I should go on to get my PhD someday and become a college professor (or at the very least, become an adjunct faculty member).

As for my treatments, I have been through eight chelations so far still eating a crazy perfect diet. It was a little difficult the first few days, but now it's second nature. I haven't cheated once even though I was craving cookies the first week. I'd have it no other way. I am helping my body to help itself, and that is a beautiful thing. I have blood work this week to see where I am as far as the amount of arsenic still in my body.

Finally.

It took one more "pain flare," one more suicide-inducing torture fest!, to get me to lighten up and lighten the burden I put on myself. The last few days have been a battle of wills, my wills, deciding whether to crumble like a poisonous non-organic, non-vegan chocolate chip cookie or stay rooted, like the veggies I worship, in my mission to show this disease who is boss. Not only has my pain progressed, but so have the overt physical symptoms, which I have to say, frightened me way more than any spreading/worsening of firey pain.

Monday, I was sent home by my field instructor, an incredible, understanding, kind woman, after a wide-eyed stare at my gross looking feet and told to stay home Tuesday, which, thank the veggie gods, I did. It's always interesting to see the horrified looks on people's faces when they see my bare feet, as if I don't already know how bad this all is.

Monday and Tuesday were full of water works and supportive listening and hugs by my parents. My biggest fear is ending up in a wheelchair, which I would already be in if not for my opiates, and no amount of my magic pills could give me quality of life the last few days. This leads to the announcement that my father has already started the ball rolling on finding me a specialist who is well practiced in titrating methadone. Methadone, here I come.

No more psycho-student. I'm giving myself a break from here on out or else I will end up in a loony bin (I say that term fondly, as I am a mental health professional in training). I am almost positive this pain flare was stress induced because I have been going through a pretty traumatic and difficult personal experience beyond my disease. I just haven't written about it...

I'm running a support group today, so off to get prepared!!!

Watch Your Back

http://www.reuters.com/article/healthNews/idUSTRE50Q5IA20090127?feedType=RSS&feedName=healthNews&sp=true

I've gone to great lengths to avoid high fructose corn syrup (HFCS) since my RSD diagnosis, but this is a great article for anyone who happens to ingest the junk every once and a while. Mercury in HFCS? Yup, and guess what ladies... it's in your cosmetics, too. I switched to all natural products long ago, thank goodness, but imagine soaking your skin, your largest organ, with mercury laden products. Sick... I remember as a child in school being told that if a mercury thermometer broke, to stand back and tell an adult. So, why is it allowed to be in our food and beauty items? Good question...