I’m only 33

17 06 2009

After the accident, my neck and shoulder and other injuries returned to a state of normalcy so quickly, I had really high hopes for the lower back to do so as well.  But today is the 86th day and I still am reeling in pain.

The day after the first series of injections, I could walk.  Hell I could fucking jump.  I probably could have had sex too, but we didn’t try.  But I could move and I realized how much I had been unable to do for the past two months as I finally could get on my hands and knees and mop the floor, I could walk through the store without breaking a sweat, I could hug my kids without wincing.  The list could go on but it only makes me cry.

I sit here now with the words of the doctor still on my ears…permanent.

His last attempt at bringing me a painfree life will be an injection into the S1 joint next Monday.  But that isn’t terribly promising he said.  He suggested looking into long term pain management, which essentially means regular prescriptions and refills of the same crap I haven’t been taking regularly the past two months.  I can also look at acupuncture or holistic treatments, but on a medical level, he said they have done all they can.  I guess in some small way I had expected that and I took it fairly well and shook his hand and thanked him for everything.  But it’s sinking in now.  All these thoughts are coming to mind.  What happens now?  I mean, planting a garden again is obviously out, dancing isn’t an option, hell shopping for groceries is barely tolerable.

I’m not one for really hating people, I mean yes, people piss me off or annoy me, but hating a person just isn’t me usually but I have such a hatred for that stupid idiot woman driver right now – I just want to scream.

I’m only 33.

I should be able to walk and run and skip and jump and enjoy life.  And yet here I sit with a bag of frozen peas on my ass every damned night so that sitting can be tolerated.  Sleeping involves staying up until the wee hours and even then I am popping sleeping pills or vicodin and hoping for my eyes to close.  I think shopping is the worst though.  I have to walk, the alternative is the old-mobile cart with the little damned beep-beep-beep shit that causes everyone’s head to whip around and down at you.  My forearms ache at supporting my balance and within twenty minutes I am barely dragging myself along, hunched over like some Quasimodo of the grocery store.

I’m angry and I’m sad and I’m scared and I feel so overwhelmed with all of these emotions that I can’t begin to try to sort out why I feel any of them enough to resolve myself out of this funk.  The girls and Glenn give me this stupid puppy look that just kills me.  I know they don’t do it to hurt my feelings, I know it is out of concern and sympathy but I feel like some giant thunderstorm cloud on their rainbow everytime we do anything together.  It all hinges on can mommy make it or is mommy up to it.  Is it a good day or a bad day.  Will I make it fifty feet today or will moving from one room to the next be a damned challenge.

It isn’t as though I was some avid hiker or meringue star or anything that I can say this has ruined me and offer some tangible reason why.  It’s the basics of my life that are ruined.  I was never going to climb Everest anyhow so it isn’t marred in that way – but what about rocking my daughter when she is sick?  What about having sex or walking through the mall or gardening.  Hell I can’t even get the damned floor mopped for crap without popping pain killers and working fast before the sleep kicks in.

I just want my life back.  I’m only 33.

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