#cw: pain

[someinstant]

So many, many years ago, when I was twenty and foolish and thought I was immortal, I sprained my ankle very badly hiking with some friends on Spring Break. Being an immortal college student, and also a broke American with a shitty healthcare system, I shrugged it off, wrapped it in a compression bandage for a bit, iced it, and limped around campus for about six weeks while it kinda-sorta healed.

But it turns out that once you do a number on an ankle and don't properly rehab it, you're much more likely to sprain the joint again-- something to do with the tendons stretching and your brain not compensating for the stretch in your balance. I dunno, the doctor explained it to me and it made a lot of sense, but I don't remember the terms she used.

Anyway, I have sprained my ankle a million times since college. I've done the "oh SHIT" slip down the stairs, the "trip over a student's bookbag and land funny" move, the "I swear I was just walking on the sidewalk and there was nothing THERE" sprain-- all of them. So my ankle is pretty shot.

And then about four years ago, I started developing plantar fasciitis-- which is pretty common in teachers, because we spend all day on our feet on hard tiles. The treatment for plantar fasciitis is basically rest-- stay off the inflamed tissues until the irritation goes down, and then do some PT. But that's kind of impossible in my job, so I just... dealt with it. I iced it, rolled out the bottoms of my feet every night, bought hideously expensive and supportive shoes, and when it got so bad I wanted to cry, I'd take some anti-inflammatories and suck it up. Because what else was I going to do? Not teach? It's teaching. Everyone's feet hurt.

But then last April I sprained my ankle really badly taking the trash out, of all things, and it just-- never really got better. I mean, the swelling went down, I had full range of motion, and I was certain it wasn't broken-- I've broken several bones in my life, and am pretty familiar with that sort of pain-- but there was just this lingering, deep pain. But I had things I needed to do, you know? I had the end of the year to get through, graduation duties, and my parents were dead set on a family trip to Scotland. So I sucked it up, took some anti-inflammatories, and pushed through.

But I couldn't walk where I wanted to go on the trip. My mother, who has had two knee replacements, could walk farther and faster than I could. We took a trip to an island one day and I wanted to see the puffins nesting-- was determined to see them, because I love puffins-- and I made myself climb up the cliff face and walk the rough path for two miles, and I saw the damn birds and they were beautiful, but the back of my calf was burning like acid and that night I couldn't stand to let my heel touch the mattress in bed, it was that painful. The next day I could barely walk around the city center without wanting to cry, and all I could think was, "I'm ruining this trip, because I'm slowing everyone down."

So when I came home, I made an appointment with my GP-- not that this is a GP issue, but American insurance being what it is, we jump through the hoops to get a referral to the person who can actually solve the problem. And today I finally had an appointment with the specialist, and--

It is so affirming and such a goddamn relief to have someone take time to listen, and examine, and to then say, "Here is what the problems are, they are REAL problems, and you're not weak for being in pain." At one point she said, "It sounds like your pain is about an eight," and I was like, "Oh, no, absolutely not," because I'd been thinking that an eight on the pain scale was, like, I-am-actively-bleeding-out. But she said, no, if the pain was stopping me from doing things or making me live my life differently than I would if it were more manageable-- that's an eight. And, I don't know, that sort of broke my brain, because I do things like make a list of all the tasks I need to accomplish during my planning period that are going to have me walking around the school, and then I figure out the most efficient route-- all so I don't have to walk as far, because my ankle can't take it.

So then I cried a little, and told her I was glad it wasn't all in my head, and she was very kind and firm and said that no, it absolutely wasn't.

It's my Achilles' tendon, among other things. All the sprains and stresses over the years have made a bunch of micro-tears, and it's inflamed to hell and back. So I'm in an air cast for four weeks and on a course of steroids to just get the inflammation down, and then we'll see about PT. And if that's not helping, then it's time to think about surgery.

I don't know what the moral of the story is, except that there's no virtue in pain, and that when you're twenty and you hurt yourself hiking the AT, you should spend that money on a co-pay to see your doctor instead of those concert tickets, because your forty-one year old self has regrets.

[crowbone]

I swear to everything holy that wound vac maintenance is the absolute worst part of this entire hospital ordeal. I can’t fucking believe how awful it is to have raw nerve endings that foam gets peeled away from. I’m dreading this at home. They’re giving me norco for some relief but I don’t know how I’m going to deal with the pain.

[thisfibrolife]

It's weird navigating new mystery health issues on top of pre-existing chronic health issues. Weird in the sense that I didn't even realize I had a new health issue until I ended up in the ER in the early hours of the morning with abdominal pain so bad that it took two doses of morphine to make the pain subside.

That was, like, two months ago. I'd been meaning to make an appointment with my doctor, but I'd been dragging my feet for a few reasons, not least of which was that voice in the back of my mind that says the doctor is going to dismiss my pain, the doctor is going to diagnose me as fat. But it flared up again a couple days ago and, while it's not as bad as it was in May, it's painful enough that I've spent all day trying to get through to the doctor's office to make an appointment. Of course, when I actually try, all the office phone does is ring.

[eyeroll emoji]

The weirdest part is that, thinking back, I can trace my symptoms back around three years, to a trip to urgent care I took back in 2020. At the time I thought it was back pain radiating to the abdomen, but now I realize that it was abdomen pain radiating around to the back. The nausea and diarrhea have also been going on for a long time--I generally dismiss those symptoms because I'm always nauseous or intestinally compromised, that's just the fibromyalgia for you. Plus, I'm in my forties, back pain is basically a middle-age rite of passage.

I'm constantly telling myself to ignore what my body is telling me just so I can get through the day. Guess I should've been listening a little more closely.

Bodies are strange and frustrating, and they only get stranger the longer you survive.

[kayzig]

It sort of figures that I'm having a bad pain flare up, after a week and a half where I did push myself kind of harder to draw.

I'm learning my limits not only for my shoulder tendon/etc issue, but going into a stretch where I have a bunch of other "I'm in my Advanced Mid 30's" problems coming on.

I have insurance, so at least I won't be financially put out by any of this, but I do kinda hope once I have more answers, I can somehow get any procedures/etc done in the same stretch of time and then just nap it all away at once.

[the-bar-sinister]

It's a high pain day, and also every single stimulus is frustrating and annoying. Started the day with crying :c

[micahfae]

I am in so much fucking agony and I can’t take panadol because it’s all in my mouth and I don’t have liquidd…

[chadepitanga]

there's something so raw and soul crushing about spending your late childhood+teen years suicidal then growing up and actually wanting to live, after an ungodly effort, only to see your health deteriorate because of chronic illness.

[gallusrostromegalus]

In the latest installment of me Terrorizing Medical Professionals, I got my Wisdom Teeth extracted because one decided to be an asshole and the other 3 were pending assholery, and demonstrated to my dentist that it's entirely possible to out-metabolize Ketamine if you start moving ASAP and also have a freakishly powerful liver.

So yesterday I had my one-month Checkup. It went pretty great, and the dentist asked if any part of my mouth was bothering me.

"Yeah, there's a sharp bit of bone coming out through the side from the extraction in my lower right jaw. The bone spur itself doesn't hurt, but it keeps cutting my tongue, so can you just pull it?" "Oh. Sure! Let me go get everything to do that." she said, and went to go get the tools for the extraction.

...Then there was some kind of confusion at the front desk I could overhear, with someone showing up with an urgent problem and they had to juggle the available staff, so she came back a bit later with the Pliers, said something about something taking "long enough" and went in.

It came out in two pieces, and the most discomfort I had was like, a 3/10 from the extraction itself, but mostly from keeping my mouth open.

...About halfway through, the Hygienist came in, apologizing for being late getting back from the front desk.

"Oh good, you have her the Novocaine!" the hygienist sighs with relief.

"What?" Said my dentist.

"What?" said the hygienist.

Both of them turn to look at the very full syringe on the tool table behind me.

"Honestly this is bothering me way less than the shot would." I said, lightly dribbling blood, and they both turn to me in horror.

"I really hate needles." I explain.

"What." says the dentist.

"Woah." Says the hygienist. "You would have done great in like, The Civil War."

Which is probably the funniest thing anyone's every said about my dangerously high pain tolerance.

Anyway, it was a one-off issue, and a non-issue for me because I think a normal person would have stopped her, so I go back in August if she doesn't recommend me to someone else for terrifying her twice in as many visits.

[thegreendiamondart]

I have a bit more progress than this but im cooking up a lil something

[raphaerolo]

Get this man medical attention and a hug

[pile-of-skulls]

I know puppy I know it hurts, you can take it though. No no no don't cry baby boy I've got you, just lay there and take it. That's it, I know, you're so good for me, you can be such a good mutt for me can't you? Let me hear you whimper, puppy.

[crowbone]

I am still in the hospital. This is to be expected when your gallbladder explodes and has to be removed the hard way.

That said, I’m on the rehab floor with an expected 7-8 days of rehab work left. Basically have four hours of rehab— both Physical and Occupational Therapy— per day. It tuckers me right out, I tell you what.

The best part is that I no longer seem to be having any more delusions at night.

I am still feeling extremely positive about leaving here during the expected date range.

I’m also extremely lucky to have encountered so many wonderful people helping me convalesce.

[title]

Do you ever feel like you're narrating your own life, watching it play in front of you like an episode of television?

Brigette Lundy-Paine as Maddy I Saw the TV Glow (2024), directed by Jane Schoenbrun

[guardianspirits13]

Rest in Peace to the Dead Boy Detectives 💙❤️

(Still images below the cut)

also @netflix your kneecaps are MINE unless you bring back my boys >:(

[esper-atus]

is that all they can do—die? (more isat x rosencrantz & guildenstern are dead)

[creek-ink]

did some ugly crying expression practice with toby angst

-

trying to experiment w my style, its getting boringgg