I am a writer that lives in constant pain. I suffer from
many ailments, and I MUST stay home because if I were to be infected
with the Coronavirus, it would quite literally finish me off. I also do not take pain
medicine for several reasons. The first is that it does not take any of my pain
away. The second is that it causes me to be grumpy and foggy, neither of which
I can stand. So, the only way I can manage my pain is to see a doctor weekly.
However, during this virus shutdown, I have not been
able to go to my weekly appointments with my doctor. Those appointments are the
only thing that keeps me from being in so much pain that I cannot move. I decided
that since I was going to miss appointments, I would keep track of how I felt without
seeing my doc. This is what happened …
3/16/20 The first day I missed my appointment didn’t go so
bad. My body could tell the difference, and I was tired throughout the day, but
my pain was manageable. It wasn’t until Saturday of that week that I felt a
twinge in my neck that something was going wrong.
3/23/20 The second appointment missed. It made me sad to
think I’d missed two appointments because of this damn virus. But my wonderful
doctor texted to check in on me, so it made me feel better. I was also
surprised that I was managing quite well without the appointment. I’d be sorry about
that soon.
By Wednesday, I knew I would spend the rest of the week in
pain. It came on suddenly, the pain that is. Like an explosion and all at once,
my body was on fire.
The pain varies in intensity depending on where its located.
My neck feels like it is trying to snap while my low back is just reminding me
that it is present and accounted for in the pain. Both my arms go numb while my
fingers and palms tingle, like straight pins, are being pushed into my skin in
waves of torture. All of that is background noise to the vividness of the
migraine—who announces itself as Lord of my pain.
It puts me straight to bed, right where it wants me. In bed,
I can do nothing, I can be no one, I can only be its slave. As time passes, the
migraine gets bored and eases up. I’m allowed out of bed so that I can care for
my children, but after I make dinner, it is straight back to bed, but I did not
sleep.
Thursday passed in a blur of pain. I can’t even recall how
the day went because all I remember is pain. Sleep also evaded my grasp again
that night.
Friday came, and while the pain in my neck had not ceased, my
arms weren’t as numb and my fingers and palms no longer tingled, the straight
pins are back in their metaphorical cushion far away from me. The migraine,
however, paced back and forth outside my head, I could feel it staring at me
trying to decide if it wanted to come in. I rubbed my neck and waited for it to
decide. It stayed on the outskirts, just tapping on the windows occasionally to
remind me it hadn’t left.
Groceries were delivered Friday evening, so I had to clean
everything that arrived at the house. The day passed, and I was in and out of
pain. I laid down to sleep at around 10:30. Sleep came at about 4:00 in the
morning. But I was awake by 6:30 on Saturday, though I did not leave my bed
until 11:30.
Saturday: I couldn’t give in to the migraine or the pain,
because I had to function. I had to vacuum and clean the carpets. The biggest
problem with all of that is that I had to move my bed. My queen size bed with
the large wooden frame. It sat on carpet sliders; it should move with ease—at
least that’s what I try to convince myself of. I shouldn’t have done it. I
could hear the migraine laughing at me when I began to push the heavy frame.
The pain would have to fester where it was because I had to
finish my tasks. There’s no one else to complete the tasks, there’s no one else
to help, I’m the only one that can do it, so I laughed back at the migraine and
the pain and swore at them to leave me alone. They swore back and pushed into
my body like a corkscrew into a cork, taking hold in every possible place while
I fought back and continued on.
The migraine and pain won their battle when I laid down on
the couch at 3:00pm, where I stayed until after 10:30pm. I couldn’t move. When
I noticed it was dark outside, I allowed myself to force my body into a
standing position, I walked to my bedroom and realized that my bed was still
moved. I called for help from a teenager because there was no way I’d be able
to move the bed, the pain was too much, the migraine and pain had their gold
and silver trophy’s and were dancing around my room in triumph.
Once the bed was back in its place, and the teenager had
receded back into its hiding place, I laid down and attempted sleep. The
constant noise inside my head—that only I can hear—filled my ears and made
sleep impossible. The sound is that of helicopter propellers—the ones you hear
in a movie where the noise is slowed down as someone sees the blades coming for
them—constant in my head without reprieve.
Not to mention the pain that caused the tossing and turning
because there was no way to get comfortable. When I began to fall asleep, the
migraine woke me, it did not wish to be forgotten. I attempted to find Mr.
Sandman for hours and hours and finally passed out some time past 3:00am.
Sunday: the clock reads 6:30 when my eyes open. The migraine
greets me with a yawn and then abruptly wakes up—seeming to have had an
espresso, it comes at me full force. The helicopter blades began pounding at my
ears. My neck ached, my arms, my fingers, and my palms start tingling. My low
back has decided that it wants the stage for a while, so it bites at me, too.
I say screw it and get out of bed anyway. I sit at my
computer so that I can try and accomplish something with my novels. I have to
hold my neck with my left hand while I type with my right. Holding my neck in just
the right way silences the helicopter and helps the pain subside some. It does
not take the migraine and pain away, but it helps.
The day I missed my third appointment I spent most of the
day in bed. I could barely lift my head from my pillow and the numbness and
tingling took over my entire body. My head pounded all day. All I wanted was to
be in a cold dark room alone. Being a single parent that did not happen. I have
responsibilities that I must tend to. However, though I got up many times, I returned
to bed after each.
I don’t know how long the Coronavirus will keep me away from
my doctor, but I also don’t know how long my body can manage without my head on
straight. I wish it would just stay where it’s supposed to stay, but I know
that’s just a dream.
But it’s okay! Because I will survive, it’s what I do best. Even
when I think I can’t, I can, and I do.
