Archives for posts with tag: pain management

Yesterday was a pretty relaxed day of getting things done, although not that many things, and rather slowly. I spent the day in pain, and that put pain management as a high priority, competing for my attention through the day. My Traveling Partner was also dealing with pain, and struggling to focus on the work he was doing, too. We managed to enjoy the day together in spite of pain. Later, when the Anxious Adventurer returned home from work, he brought his own pain along with him. Nonetheless, we all mostly managed to mostly enjoy the time, without complicating the experience with pain. That’s something, and I sit for a moment this morning, grateful for the good day yesterday in spite of pain. Everybody hurts sometimes… Living with chronic pain is its own special hell, but it can be managed to some extent.

It could have been worse; I found enough “spoons” to bake cookies.

I woke this morning from a deep restful sleep, and was awake for a few minutes before I realized I wasn’t asleep anymore. I got dressed and headed to the local trailhead I favor. I don’t have any reason to drive further, really, and this is a pleasant trail and it is a quiet morning. It’s Labor Day weekend, and there’s no one here but me, so far. It’s the sort of weekend a lot of families use to go to the coast or to the mountains, this little suburban trail is neither of those.

A hazy summer sky reminds me that the world is burning, elsewhere.

I walk the trail, down through the oaks, between the parking lot and the vineyards, winding around the bend past mature grape vines, and down into the trees that grow more densely along the creek, until I get to this spot, convenient to sit a moment with my thoughts. I’ve grown very comfortable with practicing meditation outside, somewhere along the trail I’ve chosen, in the early morning. I’m rarely interrupted. It’s pleasant and quite calming. Lovely morning for it, in spite of the haze of distant wildfires.

… I’m still in pain (again) today. Like a lot of people, I live with chronic pain

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I reflect on age, and aging, the vagaries of the absolutely crap-tacular US healthcare system, and what it means to balance endurance with joy, and what it takes to thrive in spite of chronic pain. Then I let all that go and enjoy this lovely morning moment of quiet contentment out here on this trail. I’m less anxious, knowing I’ll go back to work on Tuesday, which is helpful. Like a lot of other things, anxiety tends to worsen pain, or at least seems to make it more difficult to manage or ignore.

I watch some chipmunks playing at the edge of the trees. They delight me. I would definitely pet one if it came close enough, and laugh at myself over it. It’s probably not a good idea to try to pet wild creatures, generally speaking. I spend a moment wondering if I’m such a chucklehead that I’d actually do something so foolish, or would I only want to? I find myself unable to be entirely certain. I hope I’d choose wisely. My ability to apply self-restraint and impulse control are much better on the GLP-1 I’ve now been taking for more than a year. It has improved my life quite a lot, because I’m not so likely to do dumb shit “because it seemed like the thing to do at the time”.

The rising sun illuminates the strip of meadow beyond the trail that separates the forest from the vineyard. I see an elder couple walking their dog slowly approaching from the farthest point along the trail still visible to me. Nice morning for it, and I knew I wouldn’t have the trail to myself indefinitely. They wave and offer a cheery greeting as they pass. I wave back and reply.

More housework today, I guess, that’s the routine. Pain slows me down, but I try to avoid letting it stop me. There’s just too much to do, and we’re all in pain (in this household) – someone still has to get things done. When we all commit to doing what we can and coordinate our efforts, we still manage a pretty good quality of life, and sometimes even manage to forget the pain for a little while. It doesn’t do to let things go too long, it’s harder to catch up than it is to stay on top of things.

…New job Tuesday…

I sigh to myself and enjoy the cool summer morning and the scents on the breeze. Meadow flowers. Mown grasses. Forest and creek. The lavender scent I’m wearing, that reaches my nose when I move. My hair feels soft on my shoulders and I wonder again if I should get it cut? I feel comfortable in my skin in spite of my pain, and grateful to have worn a sweater over my lighter summer top. The first hints of autumn approaching are all around, and the cooler morning is just one sign.

I’ve lingered here awhile and my legs are beginning to feel stiff. It’s time to walk on. This day is a good one to get things done… but there are definitely some verbs involved. lol It’s time to begin again.

I am in some pain this morning, but nothing like the worst of the pain I am sometimes in. My coffee is good, better than average, not my best cup of coffee. I sit quietly with my thoughts and my coffee, after my walk, giving my illness-weakened body a little time to recover from the walking, before I get started on the housework. It’s a cycle, this thing we call “life”. Many cycles, actually, on a journey without a map. It’s easy to narrow my focus to just this space, here, and to allow life to become the cycles, and little more: sleep, walk, coffee, write, work, rest, cook, clean-up, sleep again. We are so much more than the practical task-handling endeavors that are necessary to build and maintain the quality of life we enjoy. Getting ahead sometimes means so much more work, and doesn’t always feel “worth it”. Falling behind happens in an instant of thoughtless ease. Finding balance is sometimes difficult, and I sometimes sacrifice self-care on the alter of providing for others (not a healthy approach long-term).

…I am fortunate and grateful for a partnership that encourages self-care and provides mutual respect…

My Traveling Partner inquired about the towels this morning – were there more clean washcloths somewhere? I’d fallen behind on the laundry, and committed to doing that today. When I arrived home, he’d already started a load of laundry. Having help feels good. Going into the kitchen, I see dishes piled in the sink… no one thought to do the dishes while I was down sick. I frowned at the dishes while I made my coffee. I’ll get those done, too. (Definitely feeling better.) Pride of place, a sense of responsibility, and a desired quality of life tend to be enough to keep me at it, but omg, sometimes it is just much. (I will admit that one practical factor in my lifelong decision to remain child-free was my total lack of interest in doing all that work for some other human being, most especially without help!) It’s hard to take the breaks I sometimes need, to maintain my own health. Finding balance is complicated… Why is that so complicated?? I think it comes down to a couple of things: perceptions, perspective, and reality.

One perspective on a morning walk.

How we perceive things around us changes when we’re ill, or under stress, and our priorities may change in the moment. How people around us perceive things may be something we have to consider, too, depending on their needs and expectations. When we’re sick, we may care a lot less about the vacuuming, or clean kitchen counters. When we’re exhausted, we may not care at all about whether the shower is actually clean. All very human, eh? But, once we’re back at our best, those things may suddenly matter quite a lot, and begin to be something causing us stress or a sense of urgency.

…I really dislike the “catch-up cycle” after I’ve been ill; I feel like I have to get it all done immediately to make up for any allowances and accommodations I made while I was ill (a thoroughly internalized lingering consequence of growing up in a culture of misogyny that treats the unpaid labor of women as a given, and a notable bit of baggage I am still dragging around)…

A very different perspective, focused on the details.

Our perspective on the details, large and small, is a big piece of how we set our priorities. Do the dishes in the sink matter a lot – or just matter a lot to me? Is it a health concern, or just something I don’t like to see? (Some people don’t care that much about having a handful of dishes in the sink that need to be washed and put away, other people have literal break-downs over a dirty glass sitting in an otherwise clean sink. Care to guess which one I am?* Which one are you?) Sometimes, keeping an orderly house feels more like self-care than it feels like manual labor. In circumstances such as that, it’s pretty easy to “stay caught up” and handle those tasks as a sort of meditation. Things do take the time they take, though, and housekeeping workload stands in defiance of creative endeavors. Again with the challenge of finding fucking balance. I sip my coffee and laugh at myself. I do what I can. I get a lot done – often more than I think I’m capable of, because even there – my perspective may not be a close fit to reality.

What we turn our attention to, and how we think about what we perceive, changes how we understand the world around us.

…Reality always gets the last word…

When I had cats years ago, I was quite convinced that my cats didn’t do any damage to my home, and that I kept things sufficiently tidy that there was “no cat smell”. That’s perception. I felt that the benefits to having my (much loved) cats far outweighed any concerns about cleanliness or health – lots of people have, and love, cats. That’s perspective getting involved. We don’t all see the world the same way, nor do we all share the same understanding of it. Still, the world is the world – reality largely ignores our perceptions and perspectives and just does its own thing. My apartment full of cats (and many of my belongings) definitely “smelled like cats” – but I didn’t perceive it (acclimation) and didn’t understand what I didn’t see as a potential concern (lack of adequate perspective). The reality of it was unmistakable when I moved out. (As well as difficult and costly to remedy, due primarily to my lack of awareness over time.)

I’m just saying – I have a shitload of housework to catch up on, after a camping trip, several days in too much pain to do housework, and then being sick. I can chuckle over how human that is, now. It is what it is, right? Now I see the need, because my perspective has shifted with my improving state of wellness. I feel the internal pressure to make it a very high priority – putting myself at risk of poor self-care. Cycles and balance. Fuck. Adulting is hard.

…We do become what we practice…

I sigh to myself and glare into my now-cold coffee. I’ve got a to-do list ready, and it’s a long one (but I’ve got the entire weekend to work on it). It’s already time to begin again – I’ll just be over here doing my best.

*Both. I’m rather inconveniently both of those types of people with regard to the dishes. Baggage is heavy… I remind myself to put some down.

G’damn I am so tired. I’m in pain, and I’m tired. I feel like I’m running in place and expecting to catch-up. I’m laughing over it, for now (mostly), because like it or not it’s largely my own doing. Self-care is hard. It requires choices and clear expectation-setting. Everyone around me seems to want something (and it is often completely expected and normal – as with paid employment for example), and I keep bumping my own needs lower and lower on my list of shit to do until… I don’t. Or can’t.

A new day, a new opportunity to begin again.

When I take a minute and put things into perspective, I know that going off my Ozempic for a few days, then abruptly back on at the dose I’d been taking (no ramp down, no ramp up), it likely fucked with my emotional stability and mood management and “sense of things” – and I may still be dealing with that. I also know that enduring pain without prescribed pain management measures can be very physically fatiguing. So, I guess I’m not surprised by feeling sort of chronically overwhelmed and on the edge of exhaustion in spite of feeling that “things seem pretty normal, though”. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I set reminders for healthy breaks. I double check that I have my medication for the day with me (I forgot it yesterday and had to rely on back ups that I keep in the office, most of which I clumsily tossed into the toilet by mistake – it was that sort of day, honestly). I make a point of taking it on time. I take my walk, but it is shortened by the pain I’m in, in spite of level pavement and having my cane. I feel like I’m working damned hard for very little result.

…The thought brings tears to my eyes, which is a level of emotionality that is unusual for me, these days…

I’m suddenly swamped by a feeling of being wholly inadequate and “not good enough”, like, at all. This is an entirely subjective emotional experience not connected to any real world event or interactions, most likely brought on by fatigue and abnormally high self-imposed expectations. Circumstances being what they are, and “good enough” being very subjective, and me being – in general – “fine” for most values of “fine”, I’m fairly certain that this feeling of inadequacy is nothing more than some rando inner demon having its moment, attacking me from within – that’s what demons do. lol I sip my coffee. It’s also “fine”. Not great. Not bad. Just… coffee. I’m okay with it. I reflect on that for perspective. This cup of coffee doesn’t have to be better than it is to achieve it’s purpose successfully, it just has to be available for me. It is that and that is enough.

In spite of the deer eating the tops of all my tomato plants, I’ll have a few tomatoes. Enough.

…”Enough” can be a tricky concept to hold on to, sometimes…

Getting caught up in chasing more, better, or other than whatever is can be tiring and distracting. Finding balance sometimes means making a point to practice a sense of sufficiency in a purposeful focused way, in spite of the to-do list, the goals, the aspirations and ambitions… all of that is immediately irrelevant once the sands in the hour glass run out, eh? The whole of the experience, the journey itself, isn’t characterized by any one achievement or detail, and exhausting myself chasing the details is probably a pretty poor choice. I remind myself to slow down and take care of this fragile vessel. Sometimes that takes more effort, or more time, or more care – or more saying “no”, in spite of wanting very much to say “yes”. I sigh to myself. It annoys me to need both more rest and also more exercise.

…”Finding balance” is largely a matter of cultivating and practicing balance… (I’m not saying that’s easy. Honestly, it’s fucking annoying.)

“Baltimore Belle” blooming in my garden.

I try to lift my spirits with thoughts of flowers in my garden. Far away friends. Upcoming camping trips. It’s not really helping much; I just feel run down. My tinnitus is crazy loud in my ears and I wonder (again) how fatiguing it may be that I make attempts to distract myself or diminish my awareness of it, somehow? (It takes real effort, actual work, to present an appearance, regardless how effective the results may be – and my need for self-care increases with my fatigue.)

…Too much bitching…

Not enough time spent looking at flowers in the garden.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I take some time to meditate before beginning the day’s work. What next? Self-care. Seems obvious, but I’m sometimes fairly crappy at following through on it when I most need to. There are verbs involved. Practices. Consistency. Effort. Will. It’s necessary to do the things, not just hold awareness that they are needful, and not just talk about the relative importance. I sigh, again, feeling frustrated and impatient with myself. It feels like too much, and I put my head down on my desk and let the tears come. It’ll pass. It’s not important, really, it’s just a moment.

The bananas and strawberries? Just fruits. I’ve got some very ripe banana in the freezer for making banana bread when things cool off enough to bake – and when I’ve got the energy for it – and I recently enjoyed some delightful genuinely local (picked that morning) strawberries from a farmer acquaintance (which was nice, since the birds got most of mine this year). I suppose I’d meant to say something more or different about them when I sat down to write, but the moment took me a different direction. Very human.

I sigh again, feeling too human to get enough done. I look at the clock. Still ticking. It’s time to begin again. Again.

I’m sitting in the sunshine as the sun rises. Pretty morning. My walk to this point has been quiet and pleasant. There was no traffic on the highway, either. If the folks in my neighborhood are a representative sample of Americans in the area, most folks who were going somewhere this weekend are gone, and those that were up late firing off various fireworks and noise makers are probably sleeping in; that shit was still going on at midnight.

A misty morning at the trailhead.

I’m enjoying the quiet and the solitude. Somewhere in the distance, I hear an occasional car pass by. My tinnitus is crazy loud this morning, and my back aches ferociously. I breathe, exhale, and relax, pulling my posture more upright. Changing my position doesn’t ease my pain in any noteworthy way, but slumping carelessly definitely tends to make it worse. Choices. I grumble silently to myself; everything seems to require a fucking effort. lol I laugh at myself for resisting the truth of it. Yes, surely things require effort. That’s just real. I sigh to myself and let it go. There’s no use fighting the effort required to do things. The best I can do is to make wise choices about what I am doing and where I’m putting my limited resources as an individual (even down to the effort involved).

Halfway “there” is just a point along the way. The journey is the destination.

…Fuck pain…

I sigh to myself and smile, thinking about yesterday. Nice evening. The Anxious Adventurer made lemon bars. Tasty. I made (a fairly simple, summertime) dinner. Nothing fancy. We enjoyed it together as a family. The weather was fairly mild and not hot, and we had turned off the AC, enjoying the natural breeze through windows open wide to the summer air.

I’ve no clear agenda for the weekend. Routine housekeeping stuff I guess. I sit watching the little birds at the edge of the meadow. I think about old friends and try to distract myself from pain. Maybe it is a good day to get out into the garden? There’s laundry to do, too. I chuckle at myself when I find myself daydreaming about doing housework as I sit here in the sunshine visualizing this or that task I know I am likely to do on a Saturday, and wondering what I can actually accomplish in practical terms. I’d rather sit with my feet up in the garden, sipping iced coffee and ignoring the tick of the clock, but time is a precious and finite resource and I have things to do. Another sigh breaks the stillness.

What next? I don’t know, yet. I’ve got options to consider. Choices to make. I’ve got my own path to walk. For the moment I am content just to be here, now, enjoying the morning sun without attachment to any particular outcome. Later, I can begin again.

I’m relaxing on a sunny hillside, looking out across the trees, to distant hills on the horizon. It looks much closer than it is. The breeze is cool on my face, the sunshine is warm on my back. The sound of laughter mingles with birdsong.

Here. Now.

For the moment I am relaxing at the day use area of this State Park where I’m camping – I can’t move into my campsite until a little later, but getting here early gave me the time and opportunity to switch up my campsite with one more suited to my limitations. Realistically, I wasn’t going to be easily able to hike my gear down to the more remote site I had booked, but it wasn’t obvious until I got here and looked at the trail conditions while I stood on my aching ankle.

The day use area is somewhat crowded. It’s a gorgeous day for picnics, bike rides, barbecues, and outings with family. It’s also a gorgeous day for solitude, but that’ll have to wait another hour. I get a short hike in on a pretty forest trail, and enjoy the views, before returning to the car to sip an iced coffee and wait for check in time.

Meadow flowers. The same flowers, when spotted in my garden, are weeds. Perspective.

It’s quite a bit later, now. About three hours later, and well into the afternoon, with several more hours of summer sunshine before nightfall comes. My camp is set up. It’s a very sunny camp site, and my tent is set up in the one corner with some afternoon shade. I swap my hiking boots for “camp sandals”, after applying Deet to exposed skin to minimize bug bites. I wet a handy compressed paper wash cloth/towel thing with ice water and wipe the sweat off my face and neck, which feels refreshing. I crack open a cold bottle of water and add a hydration mix to it. It’s time to relax for a little while, and get settled. Somewhere far away, sirens wail. The world is out there, somewhere, but for now I am here not dealing with any of that mess, just sitting here at the edge of the sunshine, listening to birdsong and breezes.

I smile thinking about the short conversation with my Traveling Partner, as I got my camp set up. He misses me. I miss him too, and it’s nice that we can say as much without any awkwardness or fussing over me taking this time. I do miss his face, though, and I cherish the words and cute “stickers” we share back and forth. I feel loved.

A tiny spider drops onto my shirt from somewhere and I jump up startled, swatting it away. Well shit, that was good for a bit of excitement. lol I breathe, exhale, and relax. I sit in the shade drinking my water and watching new campers arriving. I’m glad I’m already set up. It’s hotter now (but not actually hot), and somewhere nearby a small dog is yapping. I could do without the yapping dog…

Butterflies, birdsong, and breezes.

…Still, it’s quite a lovely moment, and I quickly forget about the yapping dog, lost in the moment, feeling the silky caress of the breeze, scented with meadow flowers (and Deet). These moments are so fleeting.  I sigh contentedly, sitting in the sunshine with my thoughts.

Eventually, I’ll begin again… What then? There are so many paths to choose from…