Archives for posts with tag: pain and pain management

Yesterday was a mixed bag of joy and aggravation. I really wanted to paint after returning home from coffee with a friend. I was in so much pain that I was uncomfortable to be around, even for me.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I couldn’t make it work, and inspiration got hung up in my Traveling Partner’s irritation and my own discomfort. I took more pain medication and laid down for awhile.

My beloved kindly woke me some time later, so I wouldn’t miss the entire day. I got some laundry done. We hung out a bit. It was fine. It was a quiet, mostly pleasant evening together. I went to bed early (crazy early, like 6:30 pm) still dealing with pain. I slept through the night, waking only once, briefly. I must have needed the rest.

This morning I woke rested, mind empty, heart serene, feeling content and unbothered. I dressed and left the house, seemingly without waking my beloved. I hope he sleeps deeply and wakes rested.

Heading down the trail, the morning seems almost spooky it is so quiet. I gently touch my left ear, checking that I actually do have my hearing aids in. Yep. It’s just an unusually quiet morning. My footsteps seem quite loud, generally I don’t notice them at all. My breathing, too, is audible. My tinnitus? Not as bad as usual, seems like. I do a simple “body scan” as I walk. Vertigo? Nope. That has thankfully cleared up. Headache? Mild. Arthritis pain? It’s there, but not yet bothersome, today. My gait feels steady, and if not effortless, at least comfortable. Good enough. Generally speaking, a mostly comfortable Monday.

The first hints of daybreak reveal the trees, silhouetted against a dark sky, not yet at all blue. I’m also not blue, which is a nice feeling, although I know my Traveling Partner would ask me irritably to rephrase it in terms of what I am feeling, which does seem reasonable. I guess this morning I am feeling…calm? Calm. Contented. Yesterday I felt the weight of considerable sorrow, though I never really sorted out why. Sleeping it off was probably a good choice.

So… here I am. Today. I get to my halfway point and stop to meditate and to write. It is an ordinary work day. I don’t really have anything on my mind at the moment, and don’t feel like digging around in my brain trying to find some worthwhile kernel of an idea to get started with, so it’s just me, and this moment. That’s fine, too. It’s enough. I breathe, exhale, and relax.

As I watch the sky lighten and change colors, dawn becoming day, I think about the powerful advantage (and convenience) offered by having dedicated studio space again. I can paint after work, any time. I smile; the thought feels like a quick shot of high potency joy straight to my soul. I grin to myself and fidget excitedly like a kid about to receive a gift they just know is exactly what they wanted. I chuckle aloud. I’m pretty easy to please. My Traveling Partner is right; I need to take better care of myself, and do more things for me. He is far more capable than he was after his injury, and I can trust him to tell me when or if he needs help. That’s a huge weight off my shoulders, and peculiarly, I am having some difficulty adapting.

I breathe deeply, and as I exhale I visualize releasing my stress and baggage. It’s a simple, perhaps slightly silly exercise, but I find it effective. I relax and return to meditation. I write. I watch the sun rise. I begin again.

It’s early. A little later than usual, but it makes sense; I’m trying to shift my usual waking time to something a bit later. Even a small change can add to my anxiety, and this morning it does. I’m hopeful that I managed to slip out quietly, without waking anyone. No one needs my anxiety to be the thing they wake up to!

A full moon peeks out from behind the trees.

I breathe, exhale, and relax, and lace up my boots to walk the local trail I favor, but I arrived to a lot of noise and bright light at the trailhead. There was an event here over the weekend, and a crew has come to clean up. Well, shit… That’s less than ideally peaceful, eh? I move the car to the other side of the parking and walk to my starting point from there, well out of the way of the work crew.

… Every day we make so many small seeming choices intended to get us to a goal, or to achieve some particular result…

The morning is chilly, not yet “cold”, but hinting at colder mornings still ahead. Daybreak arrives in the usual way. Blue sky shows through dark clouds as the sky lightens, and I head down the trail.

The camera makes things at this hour bluer than they seem to my eyes.

My head is stuffy when I reach my halfway point and stop for a moment. Something in the air doesn’t agree with me, perhaps? I’m glad I stuffed some tissues in my pocket as I left the house this morning.

My anxiety has come along for this morning’s walk. It’s “only” background anxiety to do with the new job, I think. Experience tells me it will pass, and to care for myself. Self-care defuses a lot of anxiety. (I silently acknowledge that sometimes self-care causes me more anxiety, setting up a brief back-and-forth with myself over whether that is the case now, and if not why mention it at all?) Anxiety is a liar, and aside from that, anxiety is also a bit of a self sabotaging drama queen. I laugh uncomfortably to myself, and fill my lungs deeply, then exhale slowly, not quite a sigh, definitely an expression of… something. I’m a little annoyed with myself, I guess. It was a good weekend. The job feels like a promising opportunity and a good fit to my skills. What’s to be anxious over?

Change is. One of the results, sometimes, is anxiety. Feeling routines and my “sense of things” being disrupted is uncomfortable, sometimes even upsetting. I feel unsure and uneasy and reluctant to trust. I feel vigilant and as if I’m waiting for that metaphorical other shoe to drop. It’s a little ridiculous, but the awareness brings no relief. I find some relief in meditation. I find some relief in routines. I finding some relief in the distraction of a sunrise on a gray morning as summer begins to turn to fall. Little things matter. I’m grateful when my anxiety begins to ease.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I sit quietly, grateful to see another sunrise. Grateful for another job opportunity. Grateful for good friends, loving family, and skilled friendly colleagues. The gratitude pushes aside the anxiety, and sets me up to enjoy the day ahead. The anxiety, this morning, is dysfunctional, a broken indicator light on life’s dashboard. I chuckle to myself thinking about the Parable of the Mechanic for a moment. This morning my mortal physical body feels more “hoopty” than sports car, for sure. I’m fighting arthritis pain along with the anxiety, and it’s possible that my arthritis is actually causing quite a bit of the anxiety in the first place. Definitely adding to it.

I sigh to myself and take something for my pain.

It’s a new day. Anxious or not, I’ve got shit to do that won’t wait around for my best mood or greatest comfort. Sometimes the path we walk is paved, level, and well lit, sometimes it is rocky, uneven, and dangerously pocked with potholes or littered with obstacles. Sometimes a distracting “side quest” is truly what matters most. The way forward isn’t always clear. We’ve just got to go ahead and get on with things, walk our path, and fulfill our “destiny”, if such a thing exists at all. If it doesn’t? Well, the journey is the destination, after all, and not walking our own path isn’t really an option. Our every choice, every moment, is another step along the way.

I think about a cookbook, a map, a menu. I think about a miscalibrated scale. Metaphors worth considering. Topics for another day. For now, I hear the clock ticking, and it feels like time to begin again. The path ahead won’t walk itself – and it’s the only way forward from here, now, to… wherever it leads. I smile to myself and watch the sun rise on this new day.

Where does this path lead? Choose and find out. Walk on.

It’s been lovely having a bit of a vacation. The clock keeps ticking. The wheel keeps turning. Eventually every pleasant vacation drops us off at the starting point to begin living life in “the usual way” (more or less). I’m not unhappy with that. The power of taking a break comes from the way (and amount) it deviates from the day-to-day. (This is why a “stay-cation” can still be a wonderful interlude that refreshes and recharges us.)

A familiar sight on a familiar trail.

A new beginning, a restart, a chance to set off on the journey with new perspective is one of the things I value each time I take a vacation (or even a break, or after a long weekend). If I’ve learned something new about myself, I take advantage of that new understanding in some way. If I’ve used the time to build a new habit or make a lifestyle change, I carry it forward into my everyday living. Practical. This approach can be so effective that I’ve even taken time off specifically to begin or end some behavior in order to focus on that change before resuming routine living, in order to “make it stick” more effectively.

I finish this morning’s walk just as the rain begins spattering the windshield. Of course it’s raining. I’m not even surprised. I felt it coming.

My arthritis has been griefing me all week. The amount of pain I’m in nearly every day is just fucking stupid, and unreasonable, and difficult to manage, and seems wholly “unfair”, and I mostly just don’t even complain about it or bring it up beyond the occasional mention (in my lived actual life), though I mention it relatively frequently here. It’s mostly pointless to say anything much about it. There’s nothing much anyone can do about it, and I’d rather not be defined by my pain or allow it to dictate the boundaries of my experience. Besides, everyone hurts sometimes, and we can only ever really understand our own pain. It’s truly difficult to understand the magnitude of someone else’s pain, and far too easy to dismiss it as being somehow less than our own. I’d rather not discuss it or argue the point; it’s not a competition. I think it sucks to be in pain, and I’m often cross about it while trying my best not to make it anyone else’s problem (especially my Traveling Partner); we’ve all got our own pain to deal with. If you’re in pain, I’m sorry to hear it, and I wish that it were in my power to ease your suffering.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. The rainy weather pretty reliably means more arthritis pain. I smile to myself, somewhat mirthlessly. I enjoy the rain so much! The spectacular mismatch between my delight in rainy days and the pain I’m in on rainy days is not lost on me. If I’m lucky, my delight and my joy in life may distract me from my pain for some little while.

Are you in pain? I get it. Please take care of yourself. Take it easy when you can (and when you must), and set healthy boundaries. Pain doesn’t have to become your whole world – you can choose differently (often)(sometimes). Your results may vary.

When I arrived.

Yesterday was a nice finish to my vacation days, although a storm blowing in from the sea ultimately chased me back to the car and got me headed home a little earlier than I’d planned. It was still quite a lovely day. It has been a supremely relaxing and restful week. I needed that more than I knew.

When I left.

I didn’t mind the storm. Like change, the weather simply is, and it’s not to be argued with. lol It was too blustery for plein air painting, and I didn’t really mind. I adapted to the conditions (easier than trying to argue with the weather). I enjoyed walking on the beach and exploring the tide pools. I took pictures of the rocks and waves and the storm moving in. I enjoyed returning home to see that a rose I had planted the year after we moved in had finally bloomed. (She took her sweet damned time with that, but she’s beautiful, and worth the wait.) The hollyhocks are blooming too, but colossal, and clearly “in the wrong spot” as planted. As with any garden, I learn with the seasons, and make changes based on what I learn along the way. (It’s a metaphor.)

“Golden Opportunity” blooming.

So… Here I am. Now. Being. Listening to the rain fall, and reflecting on the moment. My tinnitus is louder than the rain, but my pain is managed. Good enough. I’ve got things to do, and it’s time to begin again.

It won’t always be this way – whatever way it happens to be at the moment. I do my best to enjoy the journey, in spite of pain, in spite of bad weather, in spite of pitfalls, challenges, and the consequences of poor choices. I do my best to enjoy the journey when it is easy to enjoy it (which seems pretty obvious, but turns out it sometimes isn’t), and also when it is difficult. I’m not suggesting bullshit affirmations and inauthentic enthusiasm, it’s more a matter of “doing my best”, and staying true to the path I’ve chosen. Sometimes it’s hard.

Last night was one of those times. I was in so much pain. My neck was hurting, and my occipital neuralgia had flared up. My headache was worse than usual and the left side of my body was a mess of knots, and cramps, and discomfort. It was pretty awful – bad enough that my beloved Traveling Partner (who could do nothing to ease my suffering) could not bear to be in my company. That was its own sort of misery, and I finally just gave up and went to bed early. I didn’t sleep, not right away, but I was also in no shape to enjoy a new video game I’ve started, and too distracted by pain to read anything new. I got as comfortable as I could, prepared for sleep, and picked up a book so familiar to me it may as well be stories from my own life. lol Stale and boring? No. Comforting and easy. Eventually I slept, and when I woke, there was my Kindle, standing where it had been. It turned itself off at some point after I stopped turning digital pages. Convenient.

A strawberry blossom in my garden, a metaphor for change, and joy – and impermance.

This morning is a new day. I woke feeling refreshed. Headache as near to gone as it ever gets these days. The left side of my body feels substantially the same as the right side. My neck is “only” stiff, and I don’t fuck with it, hoping to enjoy this brief reprieve from discomfort as long as it may last. My occipital neuralgia has died away on its own – probably the greatest relief of yesterday’s pain that I could ask for, today. There’s just no arguing with nerve pain, and so far nothing I’ve been prescribed works well enough to justify overlooking the side-effects (which, in one case, was suicidal despair – I mean, seriously? Fuck that shit, I’d rather spend the rest of my life with my face feeling like it is on fire). This morning is a happy relief and I got to the office feeling incredibly purposeful and productive. I wasted no time “catching up” on an entire day’s work, and planning the remainder of the week, besides. Feels good. I feel capable, which is not always how I feel.

Change is. Sometimes the journey is difficult, sometimes it is easy – it rarely stays the way it is for very long. Storms come and go. There are sunny days and cloudy days. (Weather makes a pretty good metaphor for change.) I sip my coffee and reflect on the value I have found in practicing non-attachment, and learning to “be here, now”, more easily, more often. Quality of life varies with our circumstances, sure, but it also varies based on how we deal with our circumstances, how we care for ourselves, and whether we’re finding whatever joy there may be, even in the toughest of times. Not one word about any of this being “easy” or coming naturally to me (or anyone) as a human being. I just keep walking my path, doing my best, and greeting each sunrise as an entirely new day, full of promise and moments that may never be repeated. That’s a pretty good place to begin a day, I find.

I smile to myself remembering something that occured to me this morning; this anniversary coming up for my Traveling Partner and I is significant in a very special way (to me). This anniversary marks this relationship being the longest of my long-term relationships. Hell, it’s even longer than the years I lived with my family of origin. Wow. I hope it lasts many years more. “Forever”, maybe, whatever that means in a human lifetime. I often do feel as if we’ve “always” been together in some strange way. We seem so deeply connected. Even when we’re cross with each other, I’m not feeling inclined to “head for the door”, other than maybe to go take a walk and put my mind on other things until I cool off. Deep, enduring love seems a rare thing. I’m glad I have this to enjoy and experience. I’m glad my Traveling Partner is sharing a portion of his journey with me (and mine with him). I thought about how best to celebrate this special anniversary with him, as I drove to the office. I didn’t come up with anything besides sharing the day. I don’t want an expensive trinket or token of his affection; I am wrapped in his love every day. I can’t think of a single thing to make for him or give to him that would say more about my love that the life we share already says. I just want to be with him. I guess I should take that day off work, then, eh? lol

I spent the weekend in the garden. It was lovely time, well-spent. “Soul-nourishing” time. Healing time. Productive time. Time spent gazing at flowers and working in the soil. Time spent sipping coffee and thinking about what to plant where, next, and pulling weeds. I hope I can maintain the momentum through the summer months! Last year I fell short of my goals (like, a lot) because caring for my beloved took much more of my time and energy that I expected (having had no experience with caregiving, previously). I wouldn’t change that; he needed me, and I love him far too much to put my garden ahead of him in my priorities under such circumstances.

I sip my coffee grateful to enjoy it. Grateful to enjoy love. Grateful that I don’t hurt as much today as I did yesterday. Grateful to have this wee suburban home and my little garden, and a few sunny days to spend there. I smile at the blue morning sky beyond the window. The clock is ticking – but it seems to tick a bit more slowly when I am enjoying the time. I think about that for a moment, and then begin again.

I woke too early. Some noise woke me ahead of my alarm. I tried to go back to sleep, but was unsuccessful. I started to sit up, and my body protested vigorously, by way of the pain I was in. Honestly, it’s hard to be annoyed by it; it’s just sore muscles from working in the garden over the weekend, and walking a little further, a little faster, on my morning hikes. Any muscle to do with legs, from my calves to my navel, whether walking, stooping, standing, lifting, reaching, bending… it all hurts now. lol Right at this moment, now, it’s my calves that ache most. First thing this morning, it was my thighs and my butt.

Meant for the front flower beds, these strawberries became an opportunity for change.

I gave myself quite a workout over the course of the weekend. Worth it. The garden is cared for, and I’ve a new space developing on the far side of the house – my “west side garden”. For now that’s just a raised strawberry bed, and a couple pots prepared for planting that don’t yet have anything in them.

My “west side garden”, a narrow space mostly left unused, but gets good afternoon sun. Where will this path lead?

When we moved in, that west side space between our house and the fence had a well-established strawberry bed in it – it got seriously trampled (destroyed) by the neighbors rebuilding the fence (badly). It’s not like I was using that space much, myself, but it’s there, and it’s mine, and I could be using it… so… I am. I said something offhand to my Traveling Partner about maybe making a pleasant small meditation garden. He laughed and pointed out the air conditioner. It’s also adjacent to the neighbor’s patio (and his weight bench, and the clanging of his free weights hitting the rack, when he’s using them). Yeah, so… okay. Maybe not quite quiet and peaceful enough for meditation. lol

I sip my coffee and think about potted shrubs and other fruiting plants that might do well with only the afternoon sun to rely on. Maybe some currants in a big pot, placed to partially obscure the sight of the AC? I’ve definitely decided to get another of those small raised beds – quite convenient, and there’s room for another. Not today, though. I am content to think the thoughts and dream and plan and wonder. There’s no hurry, really. There’s just this moment and these thoughts. A woman, a garden, a ticking clock, and “now” – no reason at all to hurry, when careful consideration and a bit of planning will be worth so much. There’s more to tending the garden than the manual labor. lol

…G’damn I am so sore though! lol I’m definitely not 21 any more…

There is blue sky beyond the office window this morning. Lovely day. There is work to do, and later, an appointment. All very routine and not especially “interesting”, just details of a life lived. I sigh to myself and realize it is time to begin again.