Feeling the Pain

“Food allergies?  Well, besides dairy, gluten’s pretty bad.  Yeah, feed me some and I’ll show you what happens!”  *wide grin*  “Want me to try some?”

No one ever takes me up on the offer; honestly, I’m not serious either.  Even though I can list the side effects of ingesting a product with gluten, it’s been months since I remember actually having to personally deal with the situation.  Bad experiences fade over time…. Or rather, Kristy’s brain is like a sieve and I don’t retain a lot of information unless I’m actively using it!

While shopping for groceries, I find a yummy guava juice that I used to drink years ago.  *drool*  Nothing  in the ingredients state gluten; I can’t find anything online pointing one way or another so there’s only this huge unknown “natural flavor” ingredient.  I know that depending on what the “natural flavor” is and what it’s made from, there is a chance the ingredient contains gluten.  *shrug*  Well, so far almost all the natural flavoring products I’ve come across are safe.  I’ll be fine.  Even just a small fraction in the juice should be okay right?

Wrong.  Oh am I so wrong about taking my food allergies lightly.

Saturday evening, my whole midsection hurts, but I’ll live.  *shrug*  No big deal, I’ve dealt with this situation before, I can do it again.  Today will be achiness everywhere; tomorrow I’ll feel bruised inside; day after I should be back on my feet.  Easy.

Well... not quite so easy.

Sunday morning… okay this is beyond NOT fun.  Each breath I take sends flashes of pain ripping through my abdomen; deep inside, muscles spasm, twist and knot.  I clench my teeth, my arms and legs are tense as I hiss in response to the pain.  Panting with shallow breaths, I attempt to minimize all movement.  Wait, what if I roll to my side?  Rolling (not even an inch), I quickly stop as waves of agony wash through my mind.  This is so NOT a good idea.   Returning to rest in my original position, I move slowly, freezing as each small muscle twitch amplifies into minutes of prolonged agony. 

Great… why didn’t I remember how bad the pain is?  Was it this bad before?  I can remember every instance where I had trouble moving due to pain… this doesn’t top my worst day, but it definitely makes it into my top 10 most painful experiences list.  Grrrr… This will pass right?  By tomorrow, my insides will feel like I got punched black and blue, but I should still be able to work.  This pain, I just have to hold on for one more day… after that, I’ll get better again.  I always get better.

Finally, the long-awaited Monday comes.  YAY!!!  Knowing that my pain should be gone, I twist my body in an attempt to snuggle deeper into the comforters.  Instead, I barely move and my eyes pop open as fresh waves of pain assail me.  What’s going on?  I didn’t have abdominal surgery again did I?  No, this is much worse.  After each abdominal surgery, even without pain meds, I could still move.  Right now, I hurt so much that I’m afraid to move anything.  I can feel my insides shifting with gravity.  The dull ache’s expected, but I’m surprised at how the smallest movements still send shards of hot knives through my abdomen… mostly just on my right side.  Ahhhh… got it… right side is where my largest tumors are.  Meh.

Frozen in a partial roll, I debate my options.  Well, today _is_ better than yesterday right?  Nothing inside is torn, probably just inflamed.  I’ve got to get up some day anyways.  Jamming my arms into the bed, I vault my body upright.  Gasping for air, my mouth opens but my body refuses to take a breath in!  Frozen, my head spins, my body feels both weak and yet trembles with tension.  Stop… this hurts too much!

Focus 

                             Slow breaths

                Concentrate

Pain is only a sensation.  There is no injury.  I have no wound.

I need to stand up.  My back refuses to straighten.  I hurt.  Shuffling forward, each step drives nails into my abdomen.  There’s no way I can make it to work today; I can’t even walk properly much less attempt to treat patients!

Tilting my head up, I look at myself in the mirror.  Oh, this looks good… my back is curved into a half cirlce, my shoulders are up by my ears, I can’t straighten my knees.  Oh yeah… this posture will inspire so much confidence towards me as a therapist.  Okay… today’s a no go for work… back to bed.  Slowly, slowly… move, pause, breathe, relax.  Repeat.  I can do this.  I can get back into bed… then I can relax.  For now, just ignore the pain.  Pain’s still there.  Ignore it.  Pain alone can’t kill me.  Keep moving.  I got this far away from the bed, I can make it back.  I will make it back!

Father God, as always, you provide in amazing ways.  Usually, my CT scan is scheduled first thing in the morning, but this time you set my appointment in the afternoon.  I tried calling radiology a couple of times to move the appointment earlier but could never get through.  Every time I even thought about changing my CT scan appointment time, you stopped me.  End result?  Your timing is perfect.  Your plan is flawless.  I couldn’t get to my CT appointment any earlier than my scheduled afternoon slot.

*wide grin*  You’d think I’d learn my lesson already!  When you provide Lord, there’s a reason; even if I don’t know what your reasons are, everything always turns out better than just right!

Lord Jesus, give me the wisdom to take care of this body even as I push it to the limits.  Thank you for taking most of the pain away.  Thank you that I could go back to work on Tuesday, have Wednesday to rest, work on Thursday, have Friday to rest… and then sucessfully work on Saturday with the help of a co-worker who decided to freely volunteer her time, totally unpaid, to help me get through the day.  As usual, God, your provisions, your timing… everything is better than perfect when I lay my schedule, my activities, my life at your feet.

Thank you, Father God, Lord Jesus, Holy Spirit… for loving me so much that my life is better than anything I dreamed of as a child.  Thank you for the challenges to grow me.  Thank you for the difficulties that allow me to see you in action.  Thank you for the love you shower on me.  Thank you for times of action and times of rest.

May I continue to seek you, Lord God and you alone.  For in your presence, I am complete, I am whole, I am satisfied. 

I lift my hands in praise to my amazing God who allows me to dwell in his presence, who gives me better than the best, who fulfills every need and heals every hurt.  In Jesus’ name I lift my voice in praise, amen.

This is me crawling out of my new mild hyperbaric oxygen chamber gifted by my parents, my brother, Winston, my sister, Jessica, and her husband, Andrew.  Thank you guys for the awesome gift!!!