After 21 years, I’m very over trying all the fixes out there. Especially the ones that other people suggest. The minute you say “back pain” you instantly get “have you tried this?” or “my son had great success with ___” or “This worked great for me, you should really try this.” It’s exhausting to keep nodding your head and smile with each “new” suggestion. I say “new” because it’s usually acupuncture, physical therapy, chiropractor, yoga, massage. All things I have either OBVIOUSLY tried (I mean, am I an idiot?? wow, I’ve had back pain for 21 years but damn, I didn’t think to try massage! Gee thanks!!) or I cannot do because of my specific condition. So no, person who knows nothing about my back condition, I haven’t and probably won’t try your either blatantly obvious or really off the wall (I’ve tried plenty of those too, some of them quite horribly painful) magical idea that is going to be the one thing that will cure my chronic pain.
Yet, despite not wanting to hear all of those unhelpful suggestions, I do continue to fight for the answer on my own. I can’t seem to give up. I’ve had some doctors tell me it’s hard with chronic pain to know when to accept it because there always seems to be some hope that something will help. Not being able to give up is a blessing and a curse. It seems good to not give up. Especially if something might help some day. And it seems like it would be good for your mental health. Giving up seems bad for that. But it also puts you through a ton of crap that doesn’t end up helping, hurts like hell, injures your psyche, and leaves you more bruised and battered (physically and emotionally) than when you started the latest possible fix.
So here I am, on the brink of yet another possible fix. And in a confusing mental state leading up to it. You see, just a couple weeks ago, I actually started feeling a little better. A new medication may actually be the key. But yet, I feel the need to continue with this other trial fix to keep all of my options open. But because I feel better, I’m feeling conflicted about it. And throw in some general anxiety about the procedure and the whole “no fix has ever fixed before” and “the last thing like this that I tried a few months ago was one of the most painful fixes I’ve ever tried” and you’ve got the recipe for a big serving of doubt, anxiety, fear, and and worry.
But here I go again…