Well, for those of you who have been anxiously awaiting my next blog post. Here I am. Still alive. I haven't had much to say about my Chiari situation in the last six months or so. Run of the mill headaches, dizziness and numbness had subsided. But a couple of months ago, I started getting sick. Seemed like a stomach virus of some sort, but kept coming back. Docs thought I had a bacterial infection, but it still came back after antibiotics. Two months of hell, dozens of tests, and thousands of dollars later, I had an answer. Technical terms: gastritis and esophagitis. Actual meaning: I've ripped up my insides my by having too much stress in my life (thanks PTSD) and by taking too many non-steroidal anti-inflammatory meds (NSAIDs) (thanks Chiari). There are tears along my esophagus, and my stomach lining is all but destroyed because the only thing that has ever given me the slightest relief for headaches were the NSAIDs. Doctor's orders: restricted diet and NO MORE NSAIDs. He scared the crap out of me by telling me that I was at seriously high risk for a GI bleed and for stomach cancer. For about a week, I actually thought I might have stomach cancer. (Less than happy thought.) So, I'm taking his advice seriously.
Here's the deal, though...in the past week I've had three horrific headaches that left me completely incapacitated, for which I have nothing to take for relief except freaking Tylenol. Useless. So, I'm approaching a dangerous precipice I swore I would never approach--prescription pain medication. I've been putting off going to the doctor to talk about pain management, but my options are limited. No money for weekly back and neck massages, natural remedies are ineffective for my level of pain, I'm still against surgery, so that leaves me with two options...muscle relaxers and prescription pain meds. I'll try the first option first, and pray that it will do the trick. Bottom line is that I'm going to have pain because my brain is squeezing out the back of my head. But I don't want to compound my problems by developing a pill addiction. I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that I am a chronic pain patient.
I'm angry today. Angry that I haven't been able to fashion my life to be what I want it to be for one reason or a thousand. Angry that I have to live with these ridiculous health problems that I've acquired through no fault of my own. Angry that I have to be my own caretaker, knowing that there is probably no one who is even going to read this blog.
A friend taught me the therapeutic value of breaking things when I'm angry. But I'm out of things to break and I'm still so, so very angry and sad.
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