(no subject)
I need to remember that being in chronic pain isn't good for me.
That sounds like it should maybe be obvious, doesn't it? But I always think that because it isn't bad pain, I should be able to deal with it. And sure, I can ignore low level aches, and work around occasional, more serious hurts. But doing that day after day for months takes a lot of mental energy. I end up tired and grumpy, and sooner or later I go from evaluating every activity to see if it's worth risking more pain to just assuming I can't or shouldn't do anything.
I also need to not be ashamed of the fact that I need to type. That's how I communicate with most of the people in my life, and when I can't do it quickly and effortlessly, without needing breaks every few sentences or having to plan days ahead to try for stretches of time when I'm all right, I'm not going to be happy. I end up wasting my time doing stupid mindless mouse clicky things that hurt anyway, but they're all I can do and it makes me feel semi-connected.
I feel kind of foolish for letting this go on for six months - but I didn't know what else to do, when I went to the doctor and was sent away with advil and an instruction to avoid things that hurt. I don't really have experience with a medical system that includes things like specialists and second opinions.
Anyway, after my body pretty much completely fell apart by the time I got back from Flordia - it felt like everything from my fingers to my neck was on fire - I went to see a chiropractor. I was a little nervous and kind of skeptical about his ability to help, but he has quickly become one of my favorite people ever. For one thing, unlike the doctor I went to, he actually bothered to try and figure out what was wrong - which turns out to not actually be carpal tunnel so much as tennis elbow and thoracic outlet syndrome, which basically means my collarbone is trying to strangle my shoulder/arm nerves. (Look, you can interpret the medical literature your way, I'll do it mine.)
The process of figuring out the problem areas was actually really interesting - it's kind of bizarre to have someone make your hand go numb by pressing on your clavicle - and this explains a lot. Like why I've been having awful side stiches at the drop of a hat, and why I am totally fine grabbing onto metal bars and flipping myself any which way even though carpal tunnel is supposed to kill your grip strength, but can't drive a car without problems. And now I am doing things that will hopefully make me better, which I will talk about in another entry because this one has already taken me 3 days. I usually try hard to not complain about my health or my mother here, but for a long time those have been so tied to anything I would talk about that I end up doing nothing, so for now I'm giving up on that.
That sounds like it should maybe be obvious, doesn't it? But I always think that because it isn't bad pain, I should be able to deal with it. And sure, I can ignore low level aches, and work around occasional, more serious hurts. But doing that day after day for months takes a lot of mental energy. I end up tired and grumpy, and sooner or later I go from evaluating every activity to see if it's worth risking more pain to just assuming I can't or shouldn't do anything.
I also need to not be ashamed of the fact that I need to type. That's how I communicate with most of the people in my life, and when I can't do it quickly and effortlessly, without needing breaks every few sentences or having to plan days ahead to try for stretches of time when I'm all right, I'm not going to be happy. I end up wasting my time doing stupid mindless mouse clicky things that hurt anyway, but they're all I can do and it makes me feel semi-connected.
I feel kind of foolish for letting this go on for six months - but I didn't know what else to do, when I went to the doctor and was sent away with advil and an instruction to avoid things that hurt. I don't really have experience with a medical system that includes things like specialists and second opinions.
Anyway, after my body pretty much completely fell apart by the time I got back from Flordia - it felt like everything from my fingers to my neck was on fire - I went to see a chiropractor. I was a little nervous and kind of skeptical about his ability to help, but he has quickly become one of my favorite people ever. For one thing, unlike the doctor I went to, he actually bothered to try and figure out what was wrong - which turns out to not actually be carpal tunnel so much as tennis elbow and thoracic outlet syndrome, which basically means my collarbone is trying to strangle my shoulder/arm nerves. (Look, you can interpret the medical literature your way, I'll do it mine.)
The process of figuring out the problem areas was actually really interesting - it's kind of bizarre to have someone make your hand go numb by pressing on your clavicle - and this explains a lot. Like why I've been having awful side stiches at the drop of a hat, and why I am totally fine grabbing onto metal bars and flipping myself any which way even though carpal tunnel is supposed to kill your grip strength, but can't drive a car without problems. And now I am doing things that will hopefully make me better, which I will talk about in another entry because this one has already taken me 3 days. I usually try hard to not complain about my health or my mother here, but for a long time those have been so tied to anything I would talk about that I end up doing nothing, so for now I'm giving up on that.