When I started this back in the
December, the idea what that I could use it to keep track of how things moved
forward and the progress I made towards a return to normal. I honestly did not
think I would find myself 6 months later in hardly any better shape at all
sitting around waiting for the phone to ring. April 11th (the planned date of Surgery 2: Electric Boogaloo) came and
went due to some complications at the hospital. First it was
getting all of the equipment and pieces, then it was getting everything
approved by Health Canada. The last I heard they were working out when to
schedule training for the new equipment. I can’t complain that much since I
would hate to go through the entire procedure only to find out they couldn't
figure out how to turn the thing on and just hoped that I wouldn't notice.
Last night I came home from
watching hockey at the Bell Center and felt pretty worse for wear (losing makes
everything worse). I was tired but I've learned better than to lay in bed in
pain. There’s no point to it except to grow more frustrated and bored. By 3 am
the pain was still getting worse, so for the first time in several months, I
reached over and grabbed one of my bottles of pills hoping that I could find
some relief. I finished up whatever random late night tv I had be staring at
absent mindedly and made my way to bed (not before brushing and flossing, of
course). After reading a bit on my phone, I noticed that my pain was actually
coming down a bit. The pain was leaving my leg and was more localized in my
back than usual.
Rather than take that moment to let the drowsiness take over and get some
sleep, I actively did the opposite. Suddenly I didn't want to be asleep, my
pain was decreased and I wanted to stay awake to appreciate this rare moment of
peace. Granted it was 5am at this point and my options for things to do were
rather limited but still, I opted to read, to watch random videos, to do pretty
much anything that wasn't sleep because it seemed like such a waste.
A few months back I was rather
happy that I had managed to come off all my medications. I really viewed it as
a door opening to a more healthy way of living, albeit with more alcohol. The
reality of the situation was far from what I imagined it would be. While I would be lying if I
said the pain didn't come down, it didn't exactly come down the way that would
have been helpful. My baseline pain levels have decreased and that can make
doing nothing easier but activity still sends my pain levels rocketing up in no
time. Rather than being able to do more, I find myself more down than ever. I
sit around feeling ok and decide to do something only to regret it almost immediately.
I can no longer trust my body to give me an accurate prediction for how I’m
feeling. When I was in significant pain all the time, it was actually easier to
force myself to do something because I knew that pain was going to be there
anyways. All of that is best case scenario at that. In reality, more often than
not I’m in “recovery mode” from whatever I’ve done recently. The smallest
amount of activity can haunt me for days making every subsequent action that
much more difficult to do. While my head is in better places these days, my
body still acts like an anchor dragging me back to my bed or couch; a constant
reminder that I need to make my actions count because I’ll be paying for them
for the near future. Sometimes it’s not even things I do by choice, last week I slept on
my back wrong and could hardly walk the next day. The concept of doing anything during the
day is almost completely foreign to me these days. Wanting to do anything
requires hours of physical and mental preparation, time to test how
my body is going to react that day. Usually with careful enough planning I can
do what I need to do, sometimes I roll the dice and lose. It sucks to lose.
My 6 month anniversary of my
procedure coincidentally coincided with my 1 year anniversary of using a cane.
In that time I've learned a few things about myself and other people. Firstly,
I certainly took having 2 free hands for granted. I have had to become very
adept at balancing things and wedging my cane against things when I do need
both my hands. Secondly, it’s really embarrassing when my cane falls. Nothing
makes me more self-conscious than the loud bang when my cane hits the floor.
The heads that turn to see what happened only to see a guy in his 20’s needing
a cane. I know I need it and that’s life, but having attention brought to it
like that, like it’s a glaring weakness, really cuts deep. That being said, I
don’t mind talking about my cane because at least it’s on my terms. What’s
strange is half the time people ask me about it, they ask it in a way like they’re
going to catch me in some sort of lie or that I’m going to admit that I’m just
guy who likes using a cane for fun. Regardless of how it’s asked, my answer is
always the same “I have a tumor in my lower back that pressed on nerved that go
in to my leg”. At that point, it’s more awkward for them than it is for me and I’m
fine with that. Thirdly, the most important lesson that I've learned is that PEOPLE DO NOT GIVE A SHIT ABOUT A 28 YEAR OLD
WITH A CANE. In the last year, I can count the number of people who have
given up a designated seat for me on a bus or metro. I would need the hands of
all of my friends to count the number of times I've been cut off, bumped out of
the way, or ignored while someone else takes one of these seats in front of me.
I've even had people give me understanding looks when I look frustrated that
someone took a seat in front of me, all while they themselves sit in seats with
no intention of getting up. These days I know better than to expect anything,
my only hope is that at least the odd few person feels bad about not getting up
but waiting too long that they think it would be awkward if they did. That
might be a stretch but a guy can dream.
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