Pushing Past the Pain
(Content warning: trauma, domestic abuse.
As I continue to navigate the healthcare system to deal with the physical pain leftover from the pain inflicted upon me, I realize that I must compartmentalize my feelings about my healing process.
I tend to examine things holistically, and the interconnected nature of the world surprises and amazes me. So compartmentalization felt like a step backward. But in these times of a deadly pandemic, I’ve learned that I must separate my emotions from the state of my spine. If I’m going to succeed in getting the necessary surgery, I need to be a functioning adult.
Everyone asks the triggering question: “What caused this trauma to your spine?”
Some of it is the abuse on the working class, from standing and working long hours from bartending to retail. It actually took a few people asking me, and my answer being “I don’t know,” before it hit me like a ton of bricks.
My ex-boyfriend injured my neck by nearly snapping it. I’ve been forced to live out of my car and have been lost, scared, and afraid. When I first started seeing the pain doctor and asked me, I told him I wasn’t sure, but probably from domestic violence. I was taken to the hospital at the time, but since I didn’t have insurance, they sent me home after putting me in a neck brace and doing an x-ray. I was never seen again or ever told to see a doctor for this by the hospital.
Compartmentalizing
About 3 years later, I started getting the burning in my shoulder. Now that there’s one person who knows why I’m in so much pain, I burst out into tears every time I see this doctor. It’s unproductive, and I have to compartmentalize my feelings about these injuries’ origin to communicate. Add asthma, anxiety, and an N95 mask, and you have a pretty good picture of how draining my doctor visits are.
Add that a minor car accident interrupted my care this summer, and I saw a different doctor who injected me with all sorts of shit to keep me functioning. The trigger point injections were fun, but now that that car accident was too minor to argue for it causing my pain to worsen, I’m back to jumping through hoops like CT scans to prepare for surgery.
Some of the compartments that I break this complex emotional and physical pain into include my physical pain; my shame for letting myself be abused; the fear that I’ll never get better; my extreme anxiety, depression, tension, and confusion on insurance matters; and what to expect as someone who is alone out here in this desert. Hopefully separating and recognizing these guttural feelings for what they are prevents me from crying during doctor appointments. That way I can communicate clearly.
Moving Forward
In most of my appointments, I do not get past the depression and anxiety part. My goal for these next couple weeks of appointments is to arrive early, take some deep breaths, and put my mask on without rushing. Then I will chant a mantra to prepare me for advocating for my health instead of letting all of this overwhelm me.
I’ll think of all the women abused throughout history, told they’re not worthy of love who’ve then gone on to do amazing things like becoming a Congresswoman.
After that, I’ll imagine a ball to putt all my emotions, fear, and anxiety into, and leave that invisible ball in the car.
I’m the maker of my own destiny. I made some mistakes that I can never recover from fully, but if I cannot put my emotional pain aside for long enough to do the logistical things I need to do, I will not recover.
Trust me. That invisible ball of stress will be waiting for me in the car. Life is a mess of chaos with a few poignant moments of clarity.
Click here to read Pushing Past the Pain – Part One.
