One Year 10.2

It had been one year since my injury.  One year since a simple accident drastically changed my life.  October 2, 2009 I missed a step and fell on the stairs catching my left foot behind me.  After x-rays and a MRI, I remember thinking how thankful I was that it was not broken and was just soft tissue injuries that most likely would not require surgery.   I had no idea that that day started one of the biggest and most frustrating changes in my life.  It was that day, that started my nervous system’s malfunction, CPRS.   (Complex Regional Pain Syndrome)

As I sit here a year later, on the cusp of having my fourth injection to subdue the breath taking pain I experience, I am sad, I am angry and I am frustrated.  Often when we think of someone’s one-year anniversary in medicine the most common is a cancer survivor’s one-year anniversary.  It is a celebratory one-year anniversary, they have survived, they have achieved remission, and they feel better.   My one-year does not feel celebratory.

I have not achieved remission, and I have not gotten better.   My fourth lumbar sympathetic injection is scheduled for Wednesday of this week.  I will have an epidural needle injected into the left side of my back, just along side the spinal column, past the nerve roots and into my sympathetic chain.  It is a painful procedure with many possible side effects and complications.   I experienced one of the side effects when one of my nerve roots was hit during the process and I felt as though someone had branded me in my upper thigh.  My thigh remained numb for 24 hours, thankfully not forever.  The injection is no guarantee; it is a Hail Mary pass for the end zone.  The goal is not a touch down but a reduction in pain and neurological symptoms for some period of time… a week, a month, no one really knows.  Secretly each time I go in, a little part of me hopes forever.  I hope each time I get the injection that this is the one that sends me into remission.  Still hoping.

I take medication daily, the maximum dose.   I know it helps some and I know medication is going to be a life long thing.  Tough pill to swallow for someone who has never liked to take medication, pun intended. 

For now, medication and injections are the best and least invasive plan of care I have.  So every few months I get the welcomed stabbing in the back and I swallow the pills daily.

Ironically, my anniversary date is the same as the international LIVESTRONG Day.  LIVESTRONG Day was chosen to be October 2^nd as it is the day that Lance Armstrong was diagnosed with cancer.   I have been a supporter of LIVESTRONG/Lance Armstrong Foundation from the first year the yellow bracelets hit the world.  I have worn one since 2004.    I am not a cancer survivor but I have learned a much deeper appreciation.   I understand the frustration of treatments that don’t work, procedures that are painful, the hope of remission, and the disappointment of not achieving it.  My diagnosis will not kill me, but it is a lifetime battle.  The likelihood of achieving full remission is small and dwindles with each passing day and procedure.

There are days when I feel pretty good and I can go for a walk or ride my bike, I love those days.  There are days when I can barely get out of bed because the pain of stepping down on the floor is so painful it takes my breath away.  But I wake up everyday, I go to work, I run my errands, I do my house cleaning, I hang out with my friends, and I try to do some type of physical activity daily; even if it is the walking around in the store getting the things I need.  I never thought I would consider shopping cardio… but now shopping is my cardio.  Just like many women have claimed throughout the years.  

I miss the gym, I miss sports, I miss being able to go out with my friends whenever I want to, I miss not having to hold your breath to step down on the floor getting out of bed, I miss my left foot being well.

I sit here today, a year later, I have not gotten better, I have not achieved remission.  I have cried, I have gotten angry, I have grieved, and I have accepted.  I know it is not fair and I know it never will be.  I have allowed myself to have a “day” or a few “days” where it was okay to feel bad for myself or to be angry or sad.    I will still allow myself to have those. This is a lifetime battle everyone needs a “day” or two along the way. 

I sit here a year later having not achieved much.  For an overachiever you can appreciate the frustration that brings.  But I have survived one year.  I have changed my life, I have changed my approach, I have learned to ask for help, I have fought hard and I have made my peace with it.  I sit here a year later looking back on it all and realize I have achieved something.  A year later on this declared day of survivors, I realize, that is exactly what I am.  I am a survivor and I LIVESTRONG.