**GRAPHIC**

A picture of my scar if you don’t want to see it click out.

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Second warning. This is a picture of my scar from back surgery.

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Final warning to click out of here or you’ll see it

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scar

 

I warned you. This is the scar from my back surgery. There is a medical term for what they did and I think they just make words up in the hospital. All of my prescriptions are words I’ve never heard of too. I thought it was just a 2″ incision. This is the first time I’ve seen it. My physical therapist took the picture. That’s her hand at the top just to give it some comparison. The thing is 6″ long. There’s just some small scabs left and a one of the stiches sticking out of the top that will probably just fall out. It’s healing pretty good on the outside but hurts like hell on the inside.

 

 

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I’ll miss my room

I’ll miss my room at the rehabilitation hospital. Or no, I’m miss the entire place. I was spoiled the entire time. I’ve never been taken care of my entire life like I was here. The attention and respect the staff gave me was outstanding. I had to ask them not to disturb me as much. They said o.k. but continued and I never brought it up again. A lot of times in the evening no one came in to check on me but I could see them going in and out of the rooms around me. After a while I finally told the nurse that I feel like I’ve been forgotten. She told me I’m one of the few that never pushes the callimage button. I never wanted to bother them, they looked too busy. The only time I asked for anything was when they brought my meals in. They always said they’d let the nurse know. I never knew who was and wasn’t a nurse. When the nurse did come in with the med cart and to check my vitals she always asked my pain level from 1 to 10. I always said 9 and the meds weren’t helping. A few days later she comes in and said if I need pain meds just ask. So I did. Dilaudid did absolutely nothing, after several tries even with the IV, they tried a combination. This caused me to have a seizure. I was completely aware of what was going on but had no control over anything. My right hand started flinching and it felt like cold air blowing on it, when I look down at my hand I lost control of my neck. It was like my neck folded and cut off my breathing. That’s when a lot of people came running in the room. One lady was holding my head up as they laid me back in the bed. When I finally got control I couldn’t speak no matter how hard I tried my mouth wouldn’t let words come out. That was scary. After that my meds were given to me in intervals but I still could ask for pain meds anytime I wanted them. Now they were Oxycontin tablets which kind of scared me. I don’t want to be a pill addict except I’m not craving them as a buzz, I need them when I can’t hold out any longer.

The other thing I liked was the food. The place had their own cooks and I wasn’t on any special diet. I had a big menu to order anything I wanted, and I did. They fed me well and nothing I had was bad. I ate everything I ordered.

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One other thing was my bed. When I went to my three hours a day physical therapy (which is a whole other story) I’d come back to all new sheets and pillow cases, the bathroom was clean and trash taken out. I was suppose to stay until May 22 but they came in on May 15 and told me I was leaving on the 17th. I didn’t want to leave, I had another week but they felt I was o.k. to go home. My last day I got up, took a bath and dressed myself. The ride home kept changing times. First it was 11am, then it was 4pm, then 6:30pm. They finally show up at 7:30pm and they wheeled me into a transportation bus and strapped me in. I was kind of afraid to go home on my own but every morning I wake up something new is going on inside me. Sometimes it’s good and other time, like today, it’s horrible. One thing I’m learning is the nervous system is a strange thing, the other thing I’m finding out is nerves repairing themselves is the most agonizing pain I’ve ever endured. I’m working on a drawing I came up with while I was here. Sitting up for any length of time is a little painful but I’ll get it done.

picture and a whine

I should whine more than I do. Or acknowledge that’s something’s not right instead of thinking it will pass. It’s been months telling myself I’ll get better soon and go about my life as it was. It wouldn’t fix itself and gradually I sought help only because pain hurts, it really does. And when it really hurts to where it’s your only fixation, I had to give up the facade that I was O.K. I’ve always saw everything in a positive light (except my art) and never let much bother me. So giving in wasn’t at the top of my list. Today, I gave in. Finally after months of crippling pain I got an answer. My big problem was the MRI. I was scared to death of that thing sucking me in. Twice I tried but flipped out and stopped just moments after that machine started. Claustrophobia doesn’t play fair. As a matter of fact I had never thought I was claustrophobic. It could have been the combination of things. I think plugging my ears was the cause. Cutting off a sense made the rest of me hyper aware of everything else. But this time I gave in to my fear. I closed my eyes and wished away the agony I’ve endured for the last six months. Then it was over. Twenty minutes of pure panic and I made it.

Today I get the phone call. The hospital name shining like a beacon in my caller I.D. and I even answered this time. Casey was so nice. She knew how to talk and made everything easy to take in. She didn’t know how much I appreciated what she was telling me. To her it was just her profession, to me it was a ton of weight lifted off my soul. In a few days the neurosurgeon will be contacting me. At least I finally have peace knowing that I’ll be taken care of. It will probably take all my life savings but will be worth it. All I want is to be normal again. I want to walk and sit and sleep like I use to. I want it the way it was. I think I finally understand I’m not 18 anymore and have physical limits I can’t exceed.

By the way it’s a spine injury. My entire spine from my neck down. So pretty much my entire being hurts. And I never kept it a secret from the doctors that I’m getting non prescribed Oxycontin. I took it that far to where the worst opioid available is my only relief and I’m getting it illegally. It has it’s place and it’s the only few hours of relief. I wouldn’t say it’s addicting. I don’t feel I need it until the pain is unbearable and those few hours of sleep are worth the price I’m paying. One thing I’m aware of is none of them said to stop, but none of them have offered anything else to replace it.

After I got my phone call this morning a sense of of calm came over me. It felt good to know something, to know anything. I got dressed which takes a long time to do now. I keep my shoes tied so I can slip them on. The belt is in my pants and the shirt is already buttoned and on a hanger waiting to be slipped on. It’s funny how I’ve adapted to living like this. I live alone if that’s not obvious. I mean who the hell would want…

Back to the story; I get down my stairs and look out the back door to see snow. I love the snow and winter. This just adds to my excitement. I want to walk and get fresh air and move around. When I opened my front door a calm came over me. It was the perfect ambient atmosphere. The snow muffling the sounds, the temperature just above freezing, no wind. Here is what I saw as I exited my front door. Welcome to my front yard.

 

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