Chronic pain is a "mutha". Anyone that suffers from it can tell you their own tales of daily pain...and I'm no different. My chronic pain comes in multiple ways. It's a laundry list of unimaginable issues that I don't even like to talk about, but I'm starting to. I'm going to start talking about it because I've sat long enough thinking I am the only person going through this hellish stuff. Facebook has its pros and cons but if it wasn't for a chronic migraine support group that I decided to become a part of, I would have been thinking I was experiencing this "stuff" all by myself. I came to find out that there were over 10,000 people that have been experiencing the same things that I have been experiencing. Often times while reading the post, I find myself saying, "Wow! I'm not the only one who has experienced that." or, "I thought I was crazy but I guess I'm not by myself."
I can't say I've heard this anywhere but it almost feels like "pain begets pain"...especially in my case. The first consistent pain I can remember was menstrual pain. It was SO intense, it made me hate being a girl. People born male that feel or identify as a female need to feel the pain of menstrual cramps and childbirth and then tell me what if they feel the same way. I think they will come to the conclusion that they want the "pretty" (part of being a female), not the pain (of being a female). I've never been fortunate enough to have birthed a child into this world and when I see some birthing videos and the pain involved, I'm kinda glad I never have.
My menstrual pain was so intense that I was guaranteed to miss at least one day of school or work per month. Throughout all of my years of working, I don't know if I ever had a supervisor that caught on to that pattern. If they did, they never told me. My cramps always came in with a bang. There was nothing subtle about them and I think that was the most crippling. There was always one day in the beginning that felt like all the muscles in my abs were being twisted and it always had me doubled over, reaching for pain meds, and a heating pad. It literally hurt to walk upright, so I'd have to stay in bed ALL day.
In 1990, I was a sophomore in college. One of my weekly habits was going to my sister's house to eat. She was rearing two sets of twins, had a husband that was an avid hunter and fisherman and a great cook to boot, so there was ALWAYS something to eat at her house. After eating my fill, I was on my way back home when suddenly, while in the middle of an intersection, an oncoming car drop through a red light and hit the driver's side door of my car. If it weren't for the fact that I was driving an army green, 1970 Ford Torino with non-functional seat belts, I would have been severely injured. That car was nicknamed "The Tank" for a reason. Upon impact, I literally slid to the passenger side of the car. Being dazed by the impact, a passerby, helped me get out of the car. The driver that hit me almost kept going, but some people that witnessed the accident started yelling at him and I think he stopped out of fear. The driver was drunk. The breathalizer tested at twice the legal limit and the driver claimed that he'd only had a few bears while at the State Fair. The drunk driver was driven to lockup and my sister drove me to the ER. The hospital gave me the normal pain meds, instructions to rest and I was told I'd be in pain from the impact for a day or two. Little did I know that I wouldn't be able to go back to college fulltime and that accident was the beginning of a lifetime of back pain.
Chronic Pain Chronicles continued in Part 2
