Tag: journey of healing

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Life As I Know It

6-7 min read

Over the last couple of months, I have finally had the capacity to do some reflection on everything that has occurred over the last two years. I have been taking much needed time to heal and recover Physically, Intellectually, Emotionally, and Spiritually. What a journey it’s been. It’s brought up many feelings and lots of questions. Some of the things that stand out to me are pain, sadness, grief, resilience, forgiveness, serenity, gratitude, and joy. I don’t think I’ll be able to put it into words in a way that can give it justice. What I can do, is share with you pieces of the journey that might offer some clarity. The thing that comes to mind first is to share my most recent doctor’s appointment and some of the challenges I’m still having. Before even going into the doctor’s office, I pretty much begged the doctor’s medical team to have the doctor review my medical history before meeting with me, with the emphasis that I want to rebuild trust to continue my care. My anxiety about that appointment was through the roof, but my therapist had assigned this task as homework for me to do before our next session and I knew it needed to be done. I had reservations though. I didn’t want to be treated the way I had in the past. I wanted them to take my request seriously. I just wanted an opportunity to further my healing. I didn’t want to go in there with my dukes up, but my lived experience through this accident stuff had me not trusting anyone in the primary care department. For a week leading up to the appointment, I was a mess every time it came to mind. I had to continuously use my tools, reason things out with my closest support people, and stay in contact with my Higher Power. By the time the morning came, my nerves were wrecked! I pushed through anyways and rehearsed the Serenity Prayer many times leading up to me standing in front of their building. I took a deep breath and made my way in. Somehow, I stayed fully present through the check-in process and walked step by step to the second floor. I sat there for a moment unable to read or concentrate like I was used to in the past. This time I anxiously got up and paced between entry ways not knowing which direction they would be coming out from, until I settled in a spot that gave me a full view where no one could surprise me. Repeating the Serenity Prayer some more and focusing on my breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Repeat. Doing my best to keep my heart rate down. They finally called me back to the exam room, and somehow, through this I still managed to be present with each foot forward. They got my weight and vitals, then I sat down. I remember the gal helping me from prior interactions, she always gave me the vibe that she genuinely cares about what she does so I found myself uncontrollably blurting out “I don’t want to be here”. She responded with compassion and asked me questions, so I went on to explain to her some of my experiences that led to the outburst, and she reassured me, gave me helpful advice, and offered me empathy. I appreciated her response to my reaction. She finally left and told me the doctor would be in shortly. I honestly don’t recall how long it took, but it seemed like he was there pretty quickly. I never did see his face since he had a mask on, but I know in my heart that I will always remember him as the person who saw me. And I mean really saw me. He started with an introduction and pleasantries, and quickly announced that he reviewed my chart and then asked me for a picture of what’s going on. I went on to explain to him the surgical history, the important details about the accident, and my physical symptoms (I don’t need to share more about those), that he needed to know to feel good about processing my request for pelvic floor therapy.

“You get in life what you have the courage to ask for.”

– Oprah Winfrey

This doctor was great and truly handled my care with dignity and respect. He saw me as a person and honored everything I have been through since my accident. He validated my anxiety and unease about being in that clinic and told me that I have every right to feel the way I do, and that my PTSD is very real. He verbalized how proud of me he was for getting myself off all the medications and he cleared my med list without pushing more meds on me. I don’t manage my symptoms with narcotics or muscle relaxers anymore; I use a wide array of alternative methods that do not compromise my personality or ability to be present. The list of things I do to help myself to stay healthy is extensive. He asked me some questions to see how much of my daily functioning has been impacted, and he encouraged me to put full effort into the pelvic floor therapy in hopes that I will see improvements. He shared with me the type of practices that may be offered and even shared a personal story of a loved one that regained function after participating in those practices. I felt reassured and hopeful. Then we got into how much of my cognitive functioning has been affected. I shared with him that my therapist was concerned about a TBI. He asked if I hit my head, I said “no”. Then he asked me to share some of the symptoms that lead to that concern. I went on to explain to him that relationships have changed, I don’t recognize familiar people, I forget names and events, I struggle with decision-making and problem solving, words are often hard to find, difficulty expressing thoughts or understanding others, unable to process information, getting overwhelmed easily, forgetting where I am, memory loss, unable to collect thoughts when too much is happening around me, just to name a few. He let me know that the amount of nerve damage I’ve experienced has affected my cognitive functioning and that he cannot guarantee I will get it back but encouraged me to keep doing what I’m doing. I found his approach to me very kind and felt that he met me where I was at by getting on my level. He took the time to understand me instead of just pushing his own will on me or treating me as less than. I am so grateful that I walked into that clinic with courage, and that I asked for what I needed. He helped me regain some hope and trust. Both medical staff I met with gave me the tools I need to get my complex needs met; a much better interaction than I have had in the past.

My journey of recovery and rehabilitation is a work in progress. I continue to find ways to adjust and improve my overall well-being. I find joy more often, that’s good. I have my good days and bad days, and just as I’ve said before, even my bad days mean something. I am blessed that I can walk without assistance. I have a whole community of people standing with me, that I am beyond grateful for. Life as I know it will never be the same, but it is a life worth living after all.

Amber T

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Practicing Acceptance Through Powerlessness

Practicing Acceptance Through Powerlessness

8-9 min read

It’s been over two months since I wrote last. I’ve been taking the time I need to recover Physically, Intellectually, Emotionally, And Spiritually (known as PIES). There is still much work to be done. As of now though, my hip is doing well. The surgeon was very optimistic at my 3-month post-op appointment. She even cleared me for exploring alternative low-impact cardio and jogging in the pool. That’s very exciting. I’m still in physical therapy and will be for some time. It’s going good for the most part. I still overdo it occasionally, but overall, I’m finding balance with my hip and my back. Now that the hip is doing well, my nerve damage is prominent, so we are exploring ways to change the way I live with the pain and practicing ways to quiet the nerves signals. We have been doing yoga stretches, and started some nerve desensitization work which has been very challenging. Last week I got about 40 minutes of partial relief using desensitization techniques, and when the relief faded, the pain returned higher than it was before. It took me days to recover from it. On Friday I felt relief during the float tank session I had. I honestly had about 50 minutes of complete pain relief. What they don’t tell you about pain, is that when you have it constantly making noise in your brain and you never get relief, when you finally do get relief, it’s going to hit like a ton of bricks. It’ll flood you with clarity, a new perspective so to speak, high emotions of grief and sadness, solutions to problems, and an abundance of more things to think about. For someone like me who lives with this constant high pain, those pain-free moments are divine. That’s where I connect most with my Higher Power and where I can deeply meditate, to a place of temporary tranquility. It’s the after affects that are the hardest.

You see, I can literally count on both hands the number of hours of pain relief that I have had in the last 534 days. There was the 1 hour after getting a steroid injection in my hip; after the hour was up, my pain became so intense I was bed ridden after. It hurt to stand, walk, or drive. And that night, I bawled like a baby I was so overwhelmed with all of the emotions that hit me during that hour. Then there were the 3 hours I had during my surgery. They gave me the anesthesia (it’s funny, I refused to count down and chatted them all up until I was knocked out), and then I woke up. I may not remember those 3 hours, but I never once had pain on the brain. It’s just a blip of darkness in my memory bank, with no benefit that I can identity outside of the obvious… surgery on the hip. Then there was the 1.5 hours I got this last week. That hour and a half deserves a much better explanation and I’ll tell ya why here shortly. Before then, I want to point out that that is a total of 5.5 hours of pain relief… out of 12,816 hours since the pain started. Feel free to do the math to find out the percentage of time that I live pain-free. And as much as I am grateful for those hours, I hope my share today can offer insight and understanding for those who do not live with chronic pain like this. But maybe you know someone who does. I have been challenged in ways I never thought I’d have to face. I have had to accept things I wish I didn’t have to. Recently it’s even come to my attention that I will never be able to go back to the way things were, because even if I work hard at it, the amount of time it’s going to take me to get to where I’m striving for is going to come with its own set of behaviors, challenges, and trauma. Things I have to be super vigilant about in this journey, or just things I’ll have to overcome when I get to where I’m going. And since my capacity is so limited, I’m not sure I can keep up so there’s bound to be work that needs to be done. It’s going to be really important that I make myself a priority… always. My brain doesn’t work the same way anymore. There are literal times when the pain is so high, I don’t even recognize my surroundings. Collecting a complete thought becomes impossible. I forget words. It’s like I hit a wall and then bam, I’m mush. My brain is different now, and I’m still trying to figure out how to adapt to this new way of life.

“Understanding is the first step to acceptance, and only with acceptance can there be recovery.”

– JK Rowling

Now back to the hour and a half of pain relief I had. I felt this needed more explanation to offer clarity for those interested in deeper understanding. It was time split between two activities. The first was my physical therapy session; as mentioned above, we started working on desensitizing the nerves. I may have received some relief but the after affects might not have been worth it. I’m still taking inventory on that. The days following were very challenging, in all areas of my being. Though I do have the tools I need to do that work at home now, let me make it clear… it is hard work. But I can now introduce the desensitization work into my life, slow and steady. It’s just going to take time. We’ll probably do that work again in PT here in the next few weeks, but the homework I’m doing won’t be nearly as intense as those sessions. Hopefully by that time, I’ll have built up some tolerance by then. The second activity was the float tank. An hour session gives me about 50 minutes of relief, where I literally have no pain as I am floating. I am beyond grateful that I found something that helps me have pain relief in this way so that I can take a mental break when needed. It’s not something I can do all the time right now, but once every couple of weeks is reasonable. I look forward to my next session. In time, I’m positive and hopeful that I’ll find other ways to get relief. Nerve damage is a challenging thing to navigate. I don’t know if I will ever get relief in the sense that I’ll have pain-free days, and that’s a hard thing to accept. But I do plan to continue to work in the direction of healing, whatever that might look like.

As of now, I’m still recovering from that pain-free time from the float tank. My brain is mush. So, I have no choice but to take extra good care of myself. Being that I am a mother and its Mother’s Day, I’m choosing to stay in sweatpants and do nothing short of what I want. In this moment, that’s to write this out so that I can move through to further healing. My hope is to do this again sooner now that I know what I’m up against. Acceptance is something that takes time and practice. I’m grateful for all the opportunities I’ve had that helped me work through this current journey. It allows me to put acceptance into practice with more ease. And when we can practice acceptance, we open up the space for us to have peace and serenity, in the middle of any storm. I encourage you to check out my latest YouTube video above, “Five Seconds of Courage”. I talked about powerlessness. I couldn’t have got myself to this place of clarity so quickly without admitting I was powerless and truly accepting what is. To practice powerlessness is to practice acceptance, and that is hard work. But not impossible. For many of us, powerlessness and acceptance do not come naturally. It takes hard, intentional work to practice those things. It’s like a muscle. You have to use it to build muscle strength and endurance. And if you’re not aware of the fact that you are or are not practicing powerlessness and acceptance, trust me when I say that you are causing harm to yourself and others. It might be time to take a personal inventory. Maybe ask yourself “Am I trying to control the outcome?” or “Is this something I have control over?” or how about “Is this my Higher Power’s will or my own?”. Asking yourself these questions might offer you some insight. I for one, am glad to be in a place where I can identify and let go of the things that are out of my control. I’m glad I have the courage to change the things I can. It sure helps lighten the load of all the burdens I do carry. There’s no point of me carrying burdens that I have no control over. Plus, it helps me stay healthy enough so that I can more easily identify when I’m maybe not operating at my best, so that I can tend to my own needs and continue on in my journey of healing. For now, I will Listen and Learn about myself and the things around me, so that I can mindfully and intentionally grow through what I go through, no matter the difficulties. Stay tuned, the best has yet to come.

Amber T