I have a pain management appointment tomorrow, and I was just reading over my pain diary.
I know that I'll have to tell the good doctor that I need something else to help manage my pain, because after all - in his words - "You are never going to be without pain."
That sentence and the others he said are all a big jumble in my mind.
"There's no cure."
"We will probably have to try several different medications and doses till we find what works for you."
and my personal favorite
"It may take several years till we find out the right medication for you."
John is taking me to my doctor's appointment tomorrow, and I for one am so very happy he's coming with me. His extra set of ears helps me catch what doesn't register with me.
So, anyway, tomorrow after my appointment, I will probably post something about my appointment.
While reading over my pain diary, I've noticed trends in it that correlate with blood sugars, stress, and other factors.
For instance, I have noticed that when my blood sugars are either high or even slightly elevated, I have more pain.
That's not saying that when I have perfect numbers I am pain free, though.
All I'm saying is that when my numbers increase, so does my pain level.
Also, I know that when things are going on - whatever they may be - intolerable family members, Olivia giving me attitude, or just an exuberant amount of housework - I have an increase in my pain levels. Emotions that are running high equals more pain.
What saddens me though is all the things I'm missing out on since I do have such pain.
Things like not being able to walk with her to go trick or treating, or playing at the playground with her or even taking a simple walk with her.
All of those things are things I took for granted when I could walk, run, bike, and play... Had I known that in 2011 I would fall apart and not be able to do those things any longer with my child, I would have taken more pictures, I would have laughed a lot more, I would have sucked the marrow out of every moment possible...
Now, I have the unfortunate task of being a bench warmer. Of being on the side lines. Of just watching her grow up, without being able to enjoy -in a full capacity - those memories with her...
So, with great sadness, as I write this post, I have to try and remember that at least I am still here to witness (with much emotion) those things.
I'm not dead. I'm just disabled.
But that doesn't mean that I'm unable.
I'm not unable to see with my eyes that wonderment on her face when she comes out of the dressing room with her prom dress on, or years later, her wedding dress on. I may be looking at her from a wheel chair, but I can still see her beautiful face as she glows.
I 'm not unable to see with my own eyes the tears she'll cry as she holds her first born baby in her arms.
I'm not unable to look upon her face when she proudly shows off her new home or apartment.
So, yes, I may be disabled, but I'm still not unable.
And that brings me much happiness indeed.