Mommy trumps all

So after my blog post the other day explaining my current mood and physical state, I thought it may be useful to share another not-so-fun fact about living with chronic pain.

As a mommy and wife, one of the most difficult parts of being in pain is seeing how it affects your family. They are truly the only ones who see every part of this journey, doesn't matter how close you are to anyone else. If they do not live with You, the person next to you right now will never know what 2am agony is like. 

Don't get me wrong. It's not miserable-central in our homes all the time. We have love and laughter often. We also have had to figure out how to live and continue chasing our individual and family dreams regardless.

The sad part is, it does affect how we do that. Something as simple as having your youngest start too many sentences with: "Mommy, one day if you're feeling a little better can you please..." ; is devastating.  Knowing how it affects her, with her empath-personality, is would destroying.

So what has me thinking about This?
I am in pain. Attacks and the ear infection are driving me crazy. At the same time my husband is hard at work writing a paper for his last module in the diploma he is working towards and the youngest in out house has come down with cold/flu. So today, being a mommy is all I need to do. Hiding in the bathroom or another room to try and breathe through pain, only to go back out to be with her. It's what we do. It's all we can do. We live our lives with and through pain. In my case, mommy trumps all. Every. Single. Time.

Big old meanie

I haven't written here in ages. The reasons are multi-faceted. From wanting to focus on living, having a much more manageable pain level for a few months after the last surgery, to using Facebook more often to post about my pain. Tonight I feel like I need to write though. I'm such an irritable person the past few weeks that I'm actually irritated with my own irritability.
A quick catch up. The pain is back with a bang. About 10 months of bearable daily pain and minimal flair ups. For the past two months the 3rd branch has been going haywire. Every freaking day. Sometimes it's a few excruciating ones. Other days it's an onslaught of attacks that leave me bedridden for days. You just never know.

So why am I only now the irritable and miserable soul that I am? Probably a combination of normal life stress and the fact that in the past two days I had to go to the dentist (hell on earth for a TN warrior) to try to save a tooth that broke, had a sure on my eyelid and the initial stages of an ear infection. All on my left side. You see, the thing about TN is, we can try all we want to manage the pain, avoid triggers and generally just shut up about it. BUT, these three things which would be painful for anyone, exacerbates the pain we already have. For those who remember, TN is a result of damaged or misfiring nerves, like an exposed electrical wire  that you keep on touching. So now imagine that wire that you're touching is already shocking you and then you take the party to the shower. That's kind of how this feels right now. Like I have turned up the voltage on my pain. And I'm pissed about it. I'm pissed about the fact that it's so persistent and intense that I can't concentrate on work.  I'm pissed that it's preventing me from sleeping through the pain. I'm pissed that I'm getting pissed off at my family for ridiculous things.
Most of All, I'm pissed that this is life and I have to just deal with it.
So for now I'll be a big old meanie and hope and pray that soon it will become manageable again. Its either that or I bite my own head off.

To my warrior friends, may your elephant be more gentle to you than mine.

Enough

It's been a while, a long while. I should be grateful, but I'm pissed. Firstly, people told me about remission periods that TN warriors experience. I would tell them I am not one of those since I always have the beast around. Now, after two surgeries, one rhizotomy, many many many med options, I realise my remission has come and gone. My remission was not experiencing the type of pain I have the past few days, every day over the past 6 months. My remission was being able to work 5 consecutive days for a number of non-consecutive weeks. Now it's gone, and I am pissed off.
Granted, the knock on effect of avoiding chewing on my TN side = teeth messed up = avoiding dentists who have to work in and around all trigger zones; resulted in surgical removal of one tooth followed by removal of another in less than a month. Whether that's been the trigger that woke up this damn elephant, I don't know. All I know is that I reached the point of saying ENOUGH !

It could have been while I was lying awake at 3 in the morning working out the time allowed between med doses that I said to myself "I have had enough."

It could have been while I was crying in the shower because it hurt to wash my hair that I said to myself "I have had enough."

Or maybe it was when I realised none of my distraction techniques were working that I said "I have had enough."

It could definitely have been at the moment when I ran out of a full house on Easter Sunday to throw up in the garden thanks to the pain, that I cried "I have had enough."

No

It was hearing the fear and desperation in my daughters voice as she called for her Daddy in between my screams and her "Mommy are you okay" pleas. It was seeing him hold her and the helpless look on his face when he did after the attack had passed. That was it. That was when I reached the point of saying to myself, "They have had enough."

I can't do this to them again. I really can't. I know I can't help it. I know that no one outside our home can understand how bad it really does get, or how hard it can be for them. I just know that if this is the end of a not-so-blissful remission, I cannot be the cause of their emotional pain. I cannot be the reason for that kind of fear in my own child.

I just can't.

Who knows, maybe my elephant will get an itch and stand up for a few minutes every now and then. Until I know that for sure, I am holding my breath and hiding my pain. It's the least I can do for them. They have really had enough.
To my fellow warriors out there, may your elephant be gentle to you today.

There's an elephant on my face by Lianne Keiller is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License. Subscribe in a reader