Remember that cute pee doctor I’ve talked about before? Remember that gigantic, shadow–casting stone in my bladder? These two will finally meet on October 5, 2012. This should be a momentous occasion.
The stone has actually been with me for more than a year. At this point it is probably pretty comfortable in its environment, living like royalty spiked into the side of my bladder. But now it is time to go. And good riddance, as it’s causing all kinds of hell. The only bad thing Is that the surgery date is so far away. A month. Fuck.
The first time I went to the doctor about this was a month ago. It took a while to get my second appointment, and the third appointment was basically just to tell me that I needed to have the surgical procedure done. This is all fine and good, but I’m in pain here. A month is a long time when something is causing one to have unwanted muscle spasms, sharp pains, headaches and loss of sleep. I just want the party to get started. And ended.
My doctor is great though. We get along very well and she knows her stuff. Did I mention she’s cute? She is. I’m willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. Again, I’m tough. I think I can do this. What else can I do?
One of my best friends caught me with tears running down my face last night. I think it’s the first time he has ever seen me do that.
Dave, a friend and former bandmate, was with me the night I was shot. We were standing next to one another when the young gunman pulled the trigger. The bullet entered the left side of my neck, exited the right side, entered the front of Dave’s throat, bounced around, finally ending up in Dave’s right upper shoulder/neck region. Needless to say, we are very close and share a bond that not too many people are able to have. He knows me pretty well. He knew I had been crying. He also showed up a little early. Usually I keep this from friends, as I don’t want to cause worry. It is my cross to bear.
Sometimes the pain is excruciating. Right now it is made worse by a large stone floating around in my bladder. Unexpected muscle spasms cut my air supply, but only for a split second. This hurts. It’s hard to explain to someone who has never experienced it. This pain, coupled with my neurogenic nerve pain is enough to drive me insane. I don’t let it. I would never do that. I have conditioned myself to be pretty tough. I think I could handle just about anything at this point. There is no sadness regarding my paralysis, at least not that I can consciously acknowledge. I am at peace with my situation. But the pain…
Having alone time and a bit of privacy is pretty important to me. It’s in these times that I can sit and meditate on life, love, or the lack of it. It’s in these times that I can harness the pain, but every now and then pain gets the better of me and I do cry.
Alone in the dark, I cry.
If there is one thing that I dread every single day, it is waking up. That’s when the pain comes. Lots of it. While sleeping I seem to do okay, but as soon as my eyes open it is all over.
Most mornings I am awakened by a very soft and sweet voice. It is the voice of my caregiver, Sheila. She’s been with me over a year and, at this point, loves me. And I her. She is tall, has caramel colored skin, and a personality to die for. She embraces my sweet but sarcastic ways. She walks in and says “good morning” in a very bubbly voice. She, on the other hand, is greeted by moans and grunts on my end. The pain is unbearable. I would not wish it upon my worst enemy. And it never ends. Granted, I can take pain pills. They do help, but the pain is excruciating and the pills only mask what is really going on.
As an example, it feels like someone is hacking away at the meat and bone of my shoulders with a dull cleaver; or like a serrated bread knife sawing through tissue and nerves. This is my norm. It hurts. And it sucks. I can say though, that it lets me know I am still alive. And for that I guess I am grateful.
This is something that I’ve been meaning to talk about for a while. Most people don’t realize exactly what I go through each and every day. It would be nice if I could transfer it onto people for a five-minute span, just so there would be a little more understanding there. I’m not sure many people could make it the full five minutes, much less for the rest of their lives. It definitely makes me a stronger person. So, if you see me out and I have a smile on my face, it is because I try to make the best of it. Every day. What else can I do?
Enjoy what you have. Always. It could be worse; this I know for fact. Keep well and let people know that you love them. Thanks for reading.
All apologies for not having an entry worth anything today. Some of my days are not the best days; this happens to be one of them. I will return tomorrow, hopefully. Dealing with this gigantic stone is proving to be harder than I thought. Hang in there with me. It helps more than you know.