Tag: car accident

She Always Knows

A Girl In A Complex World

Sometimes it’s a dog that fills the void.  The room feels so different when she isn’t in it.

People come and go and they will repeatedly let you down. They make promises they can’t keep, love you – but with conditions, and leave when things get hard. But a dog? A dog just stays. No questions, no demands. She’s just there, filling the empty spaces you didn’t even realize you had growing inside you.

It’s strange, isn’t it? How something so small can take up so much room in your life?

Well no, not strange. It’s just … rare. The kind of love that doesn’t ask for anything but still gives you everything in return. The kind that’s always there when you need it most, and somehow, without a single word, it reminds you that you are worthy of being loved.

Zoey, my 9-year-old yellow lab, is lying beside me in my hotel room tonight. She’s bringing a desperately needed sense of calm to my anxious nervous system. I have been in and out of fight, flight and freeze all week. We traveled 5 hrs today and checked in to a hotel for the night. In the morning I have an appointment for a special medical test that can only be done in this particular hospital.

I am an amputee. I lost my left arm in a car accident 10 yrs ago so I have been living with just one hand. Last week I seriously injured that hand and it has had devastating consequences. Life changing. I am looking at partial to full loss of use of the full hand and wrist, which would strip me of most of my independence.

I’m scared. This test tomorrow will determine which type of surgery they will be performing and whether or not it can be repaired. There are a lot of unknowns and the fear is trying to strangle the life out of me.

But as I lay here with my girl beside me, listening to her deep relaxed breathing I am reminded to take a deep breath of my own. I realize that there’s nothing I can do tonight other than rest. Worrying is only causing more suffering. Tomorrow will come and I will face each challenge as it comes. So for now, I’m going to pause and appreciate the presence of my beautiful furry companion.

I’m going to reclaim my peace tonight as I allow the love of my dog to calm the fear and anxiety within me. With no questions or demands, I know Zoey will bring comfort to my hurting soul.

She knows. She always knows.

You Can’t Judge An Illness By How A Person Looks

A Girl In A Complex World

I have Complex Regional Pain Syndrome and I don’t look sick. But every day my body is in varying degrees of  pain.

In 2010 I was in a pretty devastating car crash. It turned my life upside down – literally. Among other injuries, I had my back fractured and I lost my left arm. But it was the damage from the frostbite on my feet that eventually led to a diagnosis of CRPS several years following the accident. Since developing this chronic illness, pain is something I’ve come to know on a very intimate level.

Complex regional pain syndrome – CRPS – is one of the most painful conditions known, registering a staggering 42 out of 50 on the McGill pain scale. That is worse than the pain of the amputation of a finger or toe with no anesthetic, which registers as 40 out of 50, and it is said to be worse than childbirth.

The most excruciating part is that the pain is long-term, most likely a lifelong thing. CRPS is known as the world’s most painful incurable condition. In the United States, it is referred to as the “suicide disease” because so many people resort to suicide as the only means to escape it.

Another difficult part is that CRPS is not a well-known disease. I have encountered medical professionals who don’t know what it is and I have had to explain my diagnosis to them. They often have a hard time believing the pain is as severe as I describe it. They don’t believe me that it feels like there is barbed wire wrapped around my legs. But you seem to be walking ok, they said. Or, you look like you are doing well. I can’t tell you how frustrating that part is.

So I stopped describing what my pain truly felt like to me. I don’t say that it feels like there are a hundred ice picks stuck into my spine. Instead, I just say my back burns. It seems to be more accepted that way. Which I have to admit, feels quite invalidating. In my experience, the more graphic (and accurate) the description of my pain is, the less likely I am to receive adequate treatment. So I often dial back my pain complaints. It tends to make friends and family question it’s validity because I look great!

So I repeat it again – you cannot judge an illness by how a person looks.

🦋

All Flared Up

A Girl In A Complex World

My pain level has been pretty extreme the past couple of days. I was diagnosed with Complex Regional Pain Syndrome (CRPS) around 7/8 years ago, after being in a pretty bad car crash. Many of my injuries fully healed while others became permanent problems. So the pain receptors in my brain are all messed up. They frequently send signals around my body, that basically scream DANGER, and various parts of me act as if they’re suddenly being crushed and shredded and ripped apart.

So that’s where I’m at today. On the couch with a heated blanket wrapped around me (many thanks to my clothes dryer!), my 2 dogs close by, hot lemon ginger tea, a bottle of morphine, and Netflix. But I feel like I’m about to lose my freakin mind! I can’t stand not being able to do stuff. To be still and quiet and just relax … its actually painful. Mentally painful. So I’m pretty well maxed out in the pain department today. I can’t say I’m overly surprised by this though.

Different things trigger these flare ups and determine the severity. Many times I don’t know what it was but sometimes I do. Right now though my guess would be stress. My mental illness is trying really hard to destroy me and my body has been on the receiving end of some not so healthy attempts to make myself not feel it. I never anticipated though that a bump on my head would cause my entire body to overreact like this. But here we are.