Thanksgiving wasn't what I expected.
Despite what I said in my last post, I wasn't able to quite make friends with my pain. The harder I tried, the more it mocked me. By the evening, the after-dinner fugue state, I was in bed for the third time that day. It wasn't until Saturday afternoon that the dawn started to break over the horizon of my torturous, long night. Though I resisted several passing thoughts of going to the ER for help, I did call and speak with a medical assistant Friday morning at my doctor's office. She assured me that the fact that my skin was hot to the touch, that the nerve from my shoulder burned like it was lit from within, that I was exhausted from the pain, was all rather ... "normal." Now, mind you, if they had described what I might go through (in terms that would have some relationship to reality) I would never have gone through the procedure.
Nevertheless, I'm alive. The burning has diminished, though it is still there. And Paul made a wonderful Thanksgiving meal. We polished off the last of the turkey last night.
As one fog was receding, another was coming in.
There is another addict in the family, and we have known it all along. Yet now we have more definitive proof. I won't say more right now except to say that my heart was already broken, and yet it aches more now. I thought my mind could not search any more for answers, and yet I am laboring to remain off of that long, slow, murderous rollercoaster of angst and pain. This family member is currently in the hospital, and I am getting bits and pieces of information. I don't know everything yet, and I may never know it. But I know enough to be planning the cutoff of funds, the cutoff of support, and the things I can and cannot do now. The nightmare will never end, but it may become more bearable when I know that this person is getting help and possibly paying the piper.
You can't save everyone. And sometimes, if you know one person is taking down the whole life raft, you have to set them adrift to fend for themselves...for the greater good of the family. It sounds cold, but it is something my shrink told me over a year ago. I should have listened.
I intended to write a movie review of "The Mist" and a book review of "East of Eden," but I can't right now. I will. I promise. I'm thinking of starting a bibliography and gradually adding in the books I've read. We did that in one of my classes in college.
It's an early day tomorrow. I'll be having an MRI of my brain before I start work for the day. My pain specialist wants to see if there are any lesions in the brain, which might be a reason for the weakness in my legs. I think the weakness in my legs is because of the disk problem in my lower back. But I'm not the doctor.
I wonder if, when they look at the brain scan, they'll see something akin to Munch's "The Scream?"
Peace - D