PT spells hope

I am using today as the launch pad for my hope in the new year!  It is the first time in a long time that I have had hope in anything...

::rewind::

Three months ago I had an appendectomy, and during the recovery I started to have severe, debilitating back pain.  From my last posts and family updates, it's already been mentioned that I have had basically every test/scan in the book done, some multiple times.  Apparently all of those tests were necessary to reach our current conclusion:  nerve damage in my thoracic spine.



During these last three months, I have distanced myself from family and friends for various reasons, right or wrong.  When going through something as physically and emotionally painful, depressing, and life-consuming as Steven and I have the last few months, it is easier to lean on a very close few than having to constantly relive the pain, struggles, lack of answers, and lack of hope to anyone and everyone who would "need" to be kept informed.  Perhaps that is a selfish response, but after what Steven and I have been through, I would not hesitate to do it exactly the same way.

Another reason for the distance (again, right or wrong) is that I feel like I'm throwing a pity party when I repeatedly talk about the never-ending pain and exhaustion of my back issues.  That is not my intent of sharing my issues, so it was just easier for me to cope by not saying anything at all.  This distancing was of course enabled by my utter inability to travel anywhere or do anything, except for the blessed weeks around Christmas where I still had steroids in my system and was able to visit the fam in Louisiana.

Over Christmas break, I went to a pain specialist who very quickly diagnosed the apparent issue in my spine and referred me back to physical therapy.  As I returned to work for the first week back from break, I was almost counting down the hours to my reunion with my physical therapist because of the constant, intense, unyielding pain I was experiencing last week.

Steven and I are the only ones who truly know the impact this pain has had on our daily activities and overall mental and physical well-being.  The only way I can describe the back pain is that it's like being in the worst pain of my life every minute of every day, worse than appendicitis, sparking a constant desire to go to the emergency room, but knowing they, like everyone else, can't do anything for you.  The only answer is to suffer in wait, suffer in wait, and suffer in wait some more.

Friends and family members have suggested along the way that I take a day off work, but that was never an option in my mind.  Work offers a mental escape, allowing me to not focus 100% on the pain all the time, even though it is ever-present.  I could suffer at home or suffer at school with my kiddos, and I of course opted for the latter option, which allowed me to help pass one more hour, one more day, one more week, until someone could tell me something, anything!

That brings me to today.  Today has offered the first glimmer of hope for a return to any normalcy or state of well-being (physical and mental) since the beginning of October.  I met with my physical therapist, Karen, who is probably the only doctor I would entrust my life to.  I feel so safe in her hands, and that is a feeling I haven't known for so long that it was almost overwhelming seeing her again.

Through a series of exams, Karen noticed that my thoracic spine is twisted one way, causing the nerve damage that the pain specialist indicated.  Karen actually prefers to use the term "nerve irritation" to emphasize the short-term, temporary nature of the pain.  She seemed very confident in the commonality of this condition and the routine-nature of the therapy.  I believe her.  She set me free once before, and I trust her to be able to do it again.

For this reason, I am going to let PT spell hope for me this new year.  I have needed someone or something to believe in, and now I have that something.  We have prayed long and hard for this, and although I have only had one session (where essentially no rehab actually took place), I am still allowing myself to feel, to feel the hope that I haven't been able to find or feel for so so long.  It is still going to be a long road, but at least there is a glimmer now.

Thank you to everyone who has sent any thoughts or prayers our way.  Your love has been felt and appreciated. 

Love always,
Steven and Liz