Those of you who know me know that a lot of the time I don't feel well. For someone who is happy, easy going, and loves to have fun, this can really start to get me down. But when I turn on a song that really moves me, it can take me to a place where I don't feel any physical pain, I am in a place where it is just the music and me. It doesn't have to be a song with deep, meaningful lyrics or a song that has sentimental value to me. It can be something a simple as a crescendo to move my spirit. I've never become proficient at an instrument and am too shy to share my voice, but the music that others create is my escape. Here's a song that move's me each time:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s_d3cS8zRbY
Monday, September 20, 2010
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
The Forgotten Side of Chronic Pain
For the last 2-1/2 years I have dealt with back and leg pain on a daily basis. Some days are good, some are bad, but never in the last 2-1/2 years have I been pain-free.
A few days ago someone said to me they admired how I continue to live my life in spite of my chronic pain. After joking that I wasn't suicidal and planned to continue living my life, I began to think about how much of a challenge living my life has become.
In all honesty, a lot of the day to day things in life are very difficult for me to do. I've recently joined a sewing group and there have been more weeks than not where I couldn't make the half hour drive on my own, or going and then not being able to move for days afterward. Things like vacuuming the floor in my 850 square foot condo, only half of which is carpeted, can be enough to make me incapable of even taking the dog outside to go potty. The pain can slow me down so much that it can take several minutes to walk from my living room to the bathroom, a trip that should only take about 15 seconds.
I have always been an independent person and someone who loves to be busy. When I have free time, I am more likely to be creating something or going out somewhere than I would be watching TV. Living with chronic pain, however, has made being that independent, busy person nearly impossible for me.
For the first year or so I did relatively well in terms of my attitude toward the pain I was going through. I was working as a medical transcriptionist at the time, doing mostly orthopedic work, and was very familar with the treatment involved with back and leg pain. There is a pretty standard treatment plan and knowing what was involved in that plan gave me hope that something along the way would rid me of my pain. As most of you know, that plan failed. I had back surgery 14 months ago and even for a few months after surgery, I held on to that hope that I would get better. But the months went by and still things didn't improve.
Toward the beginning of this year I started having a serious problem with depression. After exhausting treatment options and still not getting relief, the hope I'd held on to for two years began to fade and I was left with the reality that this could be what my life is going to be.
When people say to me how impressed they are with the way I have handled having chronic pain, my thought is usually something like "If you only knew I terribly I really do handle it." Every day I struggle to maintain any kind of positivity and the truth is that I don't handle it well.
People usually talk about the seven stages of grief in terms of losing someone they love. I've been thinking recently about how these can really apply to loss of any kind, even physical. I did the shock and denial thing, avoiding going to the doctor for eight months despite being in immense pain. Did the pain and guilt thing, wondering if the problem could have been fixed if I had sought help sooner. And then came the anger and depression, along with a lot of "why me?"
I wish I could say that I have gotten to the "upward turn" stage. The truth is, though, that I haven't. But I am beginning to hope again that turn is coming.
A few days ago someone said to me they admired how I continue to live my life in spite of my chronic pain. After joking that I wasn't suicidal and planned to continue living my life, I began to think about how much of a challenge living my life has become.
In all honesty, a lot of the day to day things in life are very difficult for me to do. I've recently joined a sewing group and there have been more weeks than not where I couldn't make the half hour drive on my own, or going and then not being able to move for days afterward. Things like vacuuming the floor in my 850 square foot condo, only half of which is carpeted, can be enough to make me incapable of even taking the dog outside to go potty. The pain can slow me down so much that it can take several minutes to walk from my living room to the bathroom, a trip that should only take about 15 seconds.
I have always been an independent person and someone who loves to be busy. When I have free time, I am more likely to be creating something or going out somewhere than I would be watching TV. Living with chronic pain, however, has made being that independent, busy person nearly impossible for me.
For the first year or so I did relatively well in terms of my attitude toward the pain I was going through. I was working as a medical transcriptionist at the time, doing mostly orthopedic work, and was very familar with the treatment involved with back and leg pain. There is a pretty standard treatment plan and knowing what was involved in that plan gave me hope that something along the way would rid me of my pain. As most of you know, that plan failed. I had back surgery 14 months ago and even for a few months after surgery, I held on to that hope that I would get better. But the months went by and still things didn't improve.
Toward the beginning of this year I started having a serious problem with depression. After exhausting treatment options and still not getting relief, the hope I'd held on to for two years began to fade and I was left with the reality that this could be what my life is going to be.
When people say to me how impressed they are with the way I have handled having chronic pain, my thought is usually something like "If you only knew I terribly I really do handle it." Every day I struggle to maintain any kind of positivity and the truth is that I don't handle it well.
People usually talk about the seven stages of grief in terms of losing someone they love. I've been thinking recently about how these can really apply to loss of any kind, even physical. I did the shock and denial thing, avoiding going to the doctor for eight months despite being in immense pain. Did the pain and guilt thing, wondering if the problem could have been fixed if I had sought help sooner. And then came the anger and depression, along with a lot of "why me?"
I wish I could say that I have gotten to the "upward turn" stage. The truth is, though, that I haven't. But I am beginning to hope again that turn is coming.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
A New Perspective
My uncle passed away a few months ago after battling an illness in the hospital for two months. A couple of days after he was admitted, my mom called me and said Uncle Phil wasn't expected to make it through the day. But he did, and he continued to fight for the next two months in a spirit that is signature Uncle Phil.
When I was in first grade and Uncle Phil was in his early 20s, he was in a parachuting accident while serving in the 82nd Airborne. Both his first and secondary chutes failed to open and he free fell hundreds of feet. When fellow soldiers arrived at his side, although horribly injured but thankfully still alive, Uncle Phil tried to get up and walk, again in a style that signature Uncle Phil.
Over the next 20 years of his life, he dealt with chronic pain on a daily basis and used a cane to ambulate with, but his spirit of tenacity survived unbroken despite the unfair circumstances that changed his life forever.
Throughout the last two years of my life I have struggled with anger and depression over the unfairness of my own injury and the difficulty I have had with even doing the most mundane, ordinary things of life; the things we take for granted when we are young, healthy, and energetic.
We all know the phrase "life isn't fair," but we always expect life to be fair to us. We shouldn't be the ones who end up disabled at 25. Yes, it is hard being a young woman who has chronic pain and difficulty walking. It sucks that it isn't likely I will ever have a career outside of my home again and that even working from home is too hard sometimes. It sucks that I have to ration my activities for the week, whether they be at home or away from home, but you know what? Life isn't fair and the sooner we accept that, the happier we are going to be.
Over the last few months, my attitude has begun to shift. Suddenly, I am not so angry (although I do have my moments), and everyday it gets a little bit easier to look past my pain and see the bigger picture.
I have an incredible role model in my uncle who didn't let his disability stop him from living a happy, fulfilled life. He sunk his teeth into life and fought to the death, never losing the spirit that made him so uniquely Phil. Sadly for me, I didn't really realize before Uncle Phil died what an incredible spirit he did have. I am thankful, however, that I can recongize it now and I am incredibly thankful to him for the example he set for me, though he didn't know he was.
I think about Uncle Phil every day, especially on those days where I am beginning to feel sorry for myself again. I think about the impact he has had on my life and the impact that I may have on someone else in turn; kind of like he's turned the reigns over to me. I have spent the last two years of my life learning to cope with what life has become for me and I have finally gotten to a point where I'm ready to pick up those reigns and begin living that life again.
It has been a long time since I have talked to Uncle Phil, but I can hear his voice in my mind, as clear as it was the last time we did speak, saying "It's your turn now. Get your ass up off the couch and do something." Thanks, Uncle Phil. I think I will.
When I was in first grade and Uncle Phil was in his early 20s, he was in a parachuting accident while serving in the 82nd Airborne. Both his first and secondary chutes failed to open and he free fell hundreds of feet. When fellow soldiers arrived at his side, although horribly injured but thankfully still alive, Uncle Phil tried to get up and walk, again in a style that signature Uncle Phil.
Over the next 20 years of his life, he dealt with chronic pain on a daily basis and used a cane to ambulate with, but his spirit of tenacity survived unbroken despite the unfair circumstances that changed his life forever.
Throughout the last two years of my life I have struggled with anger and depression over the unfairness of my own injury and the difficulty I have had with even doing the most mundane, ordinary things of life; the things we take for granted when we are young, healthy, and energetic.
We all know the phrase "life isn't fair," but we always expect life to be fair to us. We shouldn't be the ones who end up disabled at 25. Yes, it is hard being a young woman who has chronic pain and difficulty walking. It sucks that it isn't likely I will ever have a career outside of my home again and that even working from home is too hard sometimes. It sucks that I have to ration my activities for the week, whether they be at home or away from home, but you know what? Life isn't fair and the sooner we accept that, the happier we are going to be.
Over the last few months, my attitude has begun to shift. Suddenly, I am not so angry (although I do have my moments), and everyday it gets a little bit easier to look past my pain and see the bigger picture.
I have an incredible role model in my uncle who didn't let his disability stop him from living a happy, fulfilled life. He sunk his teeth into life and fought to the death, never losing the spirit that made him so uniquely Phil. Sadly for me, I didn't really realize before Uncle Phil died what an incredible spirit he did have. I am thankful, however, that I can recongize it now and I am incredibly thankful to him for the example he set for me, though he didn't know he was.
I think about Uncle Phil every day, especially on those days where I am beginning to feel sorry for myself again. I think about the impact he has had on my life and the impact that I may have on someone else in turn; kind of like he's turned the reigns over to me. I have spent the last two years of my life learning to cope with what life has become for me and I have finally gotten to a point where I'm ready to pick up those reigns and begin living that life again.
It has been a long time since I have talked to Uncle Phil, but I can hear his voice in my mind, as clear as it was the last time we did speak, saying "It's your turn now. Get your ass up off the couch and do something." Thanks, Uncle Phil. I think I will.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Out with the new...
Over the past few years I have intermittently thought about how much stuff I have in my life and how much of it I don't really need. I have a few friends who have intentionally given away most of their belongings. I have always thought that it was an admirable thing to do, but probably not one that I could do myself.
Recently Dan, his brother Michael, Michael's fiancee, Monica, and I went to Singapore to visit my in-law's. On our trip we also went to Cambodia and Malaysia. When we arrived in Cambodia, there were a tour guide and a driver waiting to pick us up. On our ride to Angkor Wat I was sitting in the back of the van, my heart heavy seeing all of the little half naked children with bloated bellies and the dogs running around in the streets, feeling so sad that these people have so little in life. As I am having these thoughts though, our guide (whose name I have sadly forgotten) said to us though how the people of Cambodia are so much happier than in wealthier countries because they aren't consumed with the need to have more stuff all the time. They are content with the life that they have been given.
The day after we left Cambodia, we went to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia where spent the majority of the next two days in a shopping mall filled with designer shops and consumerism on steroids. A stark contrast to what we had just seen in Cambodia. I had already been thinking about what the tour guide had said to us before we'd arrived in KL, but by this time I kept hearing those words over and over again.
I don't know how true what the tour guide said is; maybe it was just true for him. Regardless, his words have made me examine the way I live in a way I never have before. What is it that really makes us happy? For someone who loves to shop, this has been a hard thing to think about, but in reality, a new pair of shoes or a new dress might be fun the first or second time I wear them, but then what? They just get shoved in the closet along with the rest of the shoes and dresses I already own.
Yesterday I decided that I am giving up buying clothing first hand for an entire year. It is a small step on the road to simplicity, but one that is no doubt going to take a lot of willpower from me. I'd like to think I'll get more done not browsing the Nordstrom Savvy section online for hours; more likely I'll end up reading more celeb gossip, though. Hmm. Next step in simplicity?
Until next time, kids.
-Kels
Recently Dan, his brother Michael, Michael's fiancee, Monica, and I went to Singapore to visit my in-law's. On our trip we also went to Cambodia and Malaysia. When we arrived in Cambodia, there were a tour guide and a driver waiting to pick us up. On our ride to Angkor Wat I was sitting in the back of the van, my heart heavy seeing all of the little half naked children with bloated bellies and the dogs running around in the streets, feeling so sad that these people have so little in life. As I am having these thoughts though, our guide (whose name I have sadly forgotten) said to us though how the people of Cambodia are so much happier than in wealthier countries because they aren't consumed with the need to have more stuff all the time. They are content with the life that they have been given.
The day after we left Cambodia, we went to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia where spent the majority of the next two days in a shopping mall filled with designer shops and consumerism on steroids. A stark contrast to what we had just seen in Cambodia. I had already been thinking about what the tour guide had said to us before we'd arrived in KL, but by this time I kept hearing those words over and over again.
I don't know how true what the tour guide said is; maybe it was just true for him. Regardless, his words have made me examine the way I live in a way I never have before. What is it that really makes us happy? For someone who loves to shop, this has been a hard thing to think about, but in reality, a new pair of shoes or a new dress might be fun the first or second time I wear them, but then what? They just get shoved in the closet along with the rest of the shoes and dresses I already own.
Yesterday I decided that I am giving up buying clothing first hand for an entire year. It is a small step on the road to simplicity, but one that is no doubt going to take a lot of willpower from me. I'd like to think I'll get more done not browsing the Nordstrom Savvy section online for hours; more likely I'll end up reading more celeb gossip, though. Hmm. Next step in simplicity?
Until next time, kids.
-Kels
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
An introduction
For those of you who don't know me already, please allow me to introduce myself. My name is Kelsey, a married 27-year-old mom to three furbabies, who recently quit her job in search of a better life. Before we get into what is changing in my life now, let me give you a little history.
Me:
Two years ago while on vacation I injured my back. After several attempts to relieve the pain through epidural steroid injections, surgery, and drugs, it persists, leaving me nearly immobile on some days. Throughout the last two years, I have continued to work even though it has gotten increasingly difficult to do so, but recently I got the push I needed to take a leap off the cliff and follow my heart, and I turned in my notice at work to write and do art.
I mentioned earlier that I was married. Let me introduce you to my husband, too. Dan, the aforementioned husband, is 28 years old (today, actually. Happy birthday, Dan) and is an all around awesome guy. We've been married almost five years and I have to say, I got myself a good one.
Dan:
Me:
Two years ago while on vacation I injured my back. After several attempts to relieve the pain through epidural steroid injections, surgery, and drugs, it persists, leaving me nearly immobile on some days. Throughout the last two years, I have continued to work even though it has gotten increasingly difficult to do so, but recently I got the push I needed to take a leap off the cliff and follow my heart, and I turned in my notice at work to write and do art.
I mentioned earlier that I was married. Let me introduce you to my husband, too. Dan, the aforementioned husband, is 28 years old (today, actually. Happy birthday, Dan) and is an all around awesome guy. We've been married almost five years and I have to say, I got myself a good one.
Dan:
Lastly, our three furbabies include two kitties (our girls), Marzipan, age 8:
And Truffle, age 5:
And the newest addition to our family, Bertie Bott, our 11-month-old boy puppy:
That is my little family! I look forward to you following along with us on our journey through the changes in our lives, the ones we have chosen and the ones that were chosen for us.
Until next time,
Kelsey
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