Tag: cauda equina syndrome

Ankle Chronicles 9

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, chronic physical pain, depression

Ankle Chronicles 9

I went to my father’s today to get him straightened out with his meds and stuff. I forgot my sister had told me he was running low on some of his medication and I hope the doc calls it in today or my father is going to be without one of his heart medicines all weekend. Just lovely. If he wasn’t so damn frazzled on Wednesday, I might have remembered to look at his meds before leaving his house.

So before leaving his house, I told him to take his antibiotic at dinner time and then his night meds before bed. He said yes so I thought he understood what I was telling him. I couldn’t have been more wrong because for the past half hour he has been calling my phone and left me 4 fucking messages. My mother is not feeling well so I had to make her dinner. I wasn’t expecting any fucking calls so I left my phone in my room. He was so bullshit I wasn’t picking up the phone. I hate when he doesn’t fucking listen.

I spent four hours with him and my ankle didn’t like it one bit. By the time I walked to the bus stop, it was throbbing. I couldn’t understand why as I really was not standing for any lengths of time or walking great distances. My sister dropped me off to his place so I didn’t take the bus and the distance she dropped me off at was well within my walking distance. I just know that when I came home and took off my socks, I had a golf ball swelling and pain. I really don’t know what I did to cause this. It is driving me nuts that I barely did anything and it flares up. I sat the majority of the time I was at my father’s. But as usual, the pain is a damn mystery. I never will know what brings on the pain. My ankle can’t talk to me. It can only explode with pain and swell when it feels like it or when there is a reason and I just don’t know what that is. It is so damn frustrating.

I have reached my breaking point with my ankle and back pain. Between the two, I am going nuts. I can’t walk because of my ankle. I can’t stand too long because then I get spasms in my back. This has been going on for the past two weeks now. I was getting better with the back pain but something I did last Friday night while sleeping caused a flare up, again. I know that if I can just figure out how to stretch the area that hurts, it might feel better. This morning I tried just stretching my calf muscles because they are so damn tight. That didn’t work and just caused me more pain. I just feel like this pain is so limiting me and I don’t like it one bit.

pissed off therapy session

by Midnight Demon, posted in bipolar, blogging, chronic physical pain, depression

Pissed off therapy session

I took a nap before my therapy session which probably wasn’t the brightest idea in the book but oh well. I usually wake up just before session but this time I overslept and woke up to the phone ringing. Rats! I really wasn’t looking forward to talking to her today, especially after what “didn’t” get talk about yesterday.

I told her I didn’t see the point in seeing her and she told me this was a “place to process things”. I laughed. Really? Because that hasn’t happened in ages!! She dropped the issue and I didn’t want to pursue it anymore as I could feel my anger rising. I seriously don’t think she has a fucking clue as to how I am doing anymore. We spent the majority of the conversation talking about how many spoons are going to be spent dealing with my father over the next few days. That is all she seems to want to talk about lately: Spoons. “Spoons” is another word for energy spent on stuff. I got it from a lady with Lupus and you can read the article here. I thought that paper she wrote was typical of all that I go through on a daily basis, from getting dressed, to taking a shower, to making breakfast, etc.

Lately my “spoon” supply has been low and I guess dealing with my therapist just drains it lately. By mid session, I am wanting out of talking with her. I can’t stand 50 minute sessions with her anymore. They are driving me crazy when I don’t feel like talking. And I don’t feel like talking not because there is nothing to talk about, but because I am tired of the way therapy is. I thought that after a while, I would find therapy helpful and insightful. That it would bring meaning to my life but those are just fantasies that never get fulfilled. Granted the last 10 years have been tough with my suicidality and such. But you would think by now she would be used to it and handle it better. She doesn’t and it just makes me shut down. I feel more alone with every passing session because the one person in the world that should know me, doesn’t. I kept thinking about the Mockingbid song my Rob Thomas. The lyrics are stunningly close to how I feel about therapy. The Chorus is right on target:

Everybody else is smiling
Man, their smiles don’t fade
You don’t even wonder why
You just don’t think that way

Maybe you and me got lost somewhere
We can’t move on and we can’t stay here
Maybe we’ve just had enough
Well, maybe we ain’t meant for this love

You and me tried everything
But still that mockingbird won’t sing
Man this life seems hard enough
Well, maybe we ain’t meant for this love

We have tried everything to keep this therapy going. Consults, different therapy avenues, etc. But they never seem to help. I might get a transference session in where I talk about what is wrong with everything but then the next session is like I didn’t speak at all. Things are back to status quo. It really pisses me off. Now I am just hounded by thoughts of whether I should be here or not and I am again alone in dealing with them because my bozo therapist is too anxious to hear what I have to say. She doesn’t listen and she just talks the talk in circles now. I am not asking her to cure me of my thoughts but not having a place for them is really hurting me. But I understand that therapists have their own shit to deal with. But I just once wish that my therapist of 14 years would take a Xanax and let me talk. Otherwise, I think I will just give up therapy once and for all as much as it pains to be even type these words. There is getting nothing out of it if you cannot share your inner most, darkest, thoughts.

I have been down this road with my therapist for some time. It is a well beaten path. I just wish she would restrain herself some and listen more to what I have to say than get all bent out of shape when I mention suicide, or being gone, or leaving therapy. A seasoned therapist should know how to do this by now and I shouldn’t have to write this blog to get the message across, yet again…

Serious Pain

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, chronic physical pain, depression, suicidality

Serious pain

Yesterday, I sneezed and threw out my back. Today my back is still out and I am unable to stand straight without severe pain. Having this bloody cold is not helping my case. I only get relief from pain if I am lying down or sitting without moving any lower extremity muscles. I have taken my pain killers and muscle relaxants but they have not provided me with any real relief. And I am worried that I won’t be able to make my doctor’s appointment tomorrow with the dumb NP. I need to make this appointment because I need to get a refill on my pain meds. I am trying not to worry about it, thinking tomorrow is another day and I might be able to move better than I can right now. I hope so anyway. I haven’t been in this much pain since before my last surgery. It sucks not being able to move. I have tried to do the normal back exercises to ease some of the tension but they just cause me more pain. I really hope I didn’t move a disc out of whack. Last night, I got really paranoid that I was getting CES again because my left leg kept going numb on me. It is okay now and the pain is lessening, but I just need a few more days of rest before going out again. I don’t think I have that much time as I have just about 16 hours before my appointment. I don’t know what this dumb NP is going to do when I tell her I am in pain because I pulled my back out. I hope she doesn’t do the leg lifts because that will just aggravate my nerves like it always does. I am always paranoid when I hurt my back and they want to raise my legs. It aggravates my sciatic nerve and then I really won’t be able to walk out of the office. For now I am just going to relax the rest of the night and hope my bladder doesn’t get too full again that I need to use the bathroom. I just want to rest for a couple of hours straight and hope it helps me.

I missed the BPD chat tonight. I really wanted to attend but this damn pain is limiting my sitting time. Plus my dinner was ready around half way through the chat anyways. It took me a long time to get down the stairs and to eat. I didn’t even finish it all because I just wasn’t that hungry. My appetite with this cold and pain has limited my eating. I had to force myself to finish the scrambled eggs I made for lunch.

I wish I had a ride to the hospital tomorrow. That would help me greatly but I don’t. (My outpatient appointment is at the local hospital.) And I don’t have money for a cab. This just sucks. I hope I am better tomorrow. I hate being in this much pain.

Last night I came across something I wrote a while ago. I don’t know when I wrote it as I didn’t put a date on it. I hate when I don’t do that. But the content was something Hyde might have written. I got one comment on it, it said that I should “live”. Obviously, this person doesn’t know that I struggle with wanting to die on a consistent basis. The blog was called “don’t call me daughter”. I felt that was fitting as I know my mother is never going to call me her son. And that hurts me to no end. It just makes me want to die all the more because I know I will never be seen as a boy to her. She will never understand me. It hurts knowing this. She can tolerate my tomboyish features but won’t tolerate my facial hair or short boy hair cuts. My cousin has stopped cutting my hair because he doesn’t want to deal with the backlash from my mother. He still styles my hair in a “female” fashion and won’t go below a 2 on the clippers. Drives me nuts.

What drives my suicidality up lately has been pain and no sleep. I think taking the baclofen has helped my sleep. I just wish it helped my pain as well. Once my pain is under control, my suicidality decreases. But right now, with my back being out of sorts, I am kind of wishing I was dead. I hate being in this much pain and nothing helping me. It is making me feel hopeless. And feeling hopeless and suicidal is not a good mix. I hope that I can go to my appointment tomorrow and not be in horrific pain like I am in now. It will really suck because the office is a ways from the T stop.

Just found out one of my high school friends lost her mother last night. She had been battling cancer for sometime now and I guess her time was up. I feel bad for her. My friend is my sister’s age. I can’t imagine losing my mother, even though I can’t stand her at times. Sending out good thoughts and prayers to her family tonight.

Back Pain Be Damned

by Midnight Demon, posted in bipolar, blogging, chronic physical pain, depression

Back Pain Be Damned

My back went out today after a couple of sneezes. I decided that despite the pain and limited movement, I was going to get my latte anyway. I took a pain pill and an anti-spasm med and got dressed gingerly. I still have this cold that refuses to let me go. I am getting better but every morning, I awake with severe congestion. If my college football game was on national TV, I probably would have stayed home and watched it than go out with a sore back. Luckily, there was no jerking on the bus rides to and from my home to cause me more discomfort. Walking is really difficult but sitting is ok, least for now.

I brought my prompt questions with me to write for my book but I’m not in the mood to answer them. The pain is too great. I am handwriting this blog to type up later while I drink my toffee nut latte. So back pain be damned! I’m tired of pain limiting my routine and taking away the one joy in my life–Starbucks. I need my coffee/latte to bring me happiness at least for a little while.

I am home now and my back pain has worsened to the point that I can’t stand up straight. Tonight is my 20th year reunion. I won’t be attending. I am in too much pain. It is one thing to go to Starbucks in agony, quite another to spend the night with friends and pretend to have a good time when you are hurting so much. And standing just about kills me so I really cannot attend. This will be the first reunion that I will be skipping.

Funny how when you hurt your back, people come up with the usual questions on how did you hurt it, what you should do for it, etc. I have thrown my back out many times over the years. I know that rest and pain meds are the best solution to it, besides putting my feet up on my wedge while lying down. It helps relieve the pressure on my discs and relaxes the muscles. A heating pad is also helpful, though I can’t really reach mine right now because it is in my third drawer in my bureau. I just can stoop that low to grab it so maybe after the pain pills work, I can get it. Heat can just relax away the stiffness that I feel.

My blog numbers are getting higher and I just realized that I am no closer to my “managing suicidal risk” book review than I was before my 900th blog. I have to start re-reading the book so I can tell you how awesome it is. Then I can post the review on Amazon and send it to Dr. Jobes. I am sure he will love that.

Aside from my back hurting me, my mood is somewhat low. I feel really depressed that I can’t move without pain. My back pain is actually worse than my ankle pain is right now. So I am listening to 1989 to try and cheer myself up, but it doesn’t seem to be working. I hate when I get like this. A friend from Virginia called me tonight to check in on me and I was happy to hear from him. He said my name popped into his head as the sun was going down. I thought that was sweet of him to call me. I miss him. I don’t know if I could ever live in Virginia, maybe temporarily, say for grad school. But I really want to get my PhD from University of Illinois, Urbana/Champagne. I love their campus, but at this point, where ever I get accepted, I will go, provided I have the funds. I basically have to win the lottery to go to grad school at this point. It is very expensive and I can’t get loans because I totally fucked up my student loans. I don’t think I will ever be able to get out from under. And it depresses me more because I am just stuck. That is the worst part of dealing with depression is feeling stuck and knowing you can’t do anything about it. I can’t even finish my Bachelor’s degree because I just can’t afford it. I should try and see if I can get a grant or something, especially as now I am on disability. Maybe I will do that on Monday.