Help and Hope
When we moved into my father-in-law's house, it was inevitable that I would have to paint. I dreaded having to do it, but since we were having renovations done that had to be paid for I couldn't justify paying someone to paint just because I didn't wanna do it. I discovered, however, that I really enjoy painting. Who knew that you could achieve zen in a brushstroke? I love the detail, the beauty of applying the colour, the feeling of completion when it's done. I feel physically able.
As opposed to most people who paint, I only do the trim and detail work. I can't roll the paint because it puts too much stress on my shoulders, arms and feet. Painting trim usually requires me to be on my hands and knees with only the weight of my brush in my hand. I have to constantly change my position to apply the paint evenly, which lessons the stress on my joints.
My sister-in-law asked me to help her paint, since the trim hadn't yet been painted in her two year old house. I planned a three day weekend to get as much of the main floor done as possible since she lives over two hours away. It was also a chance to spend time with my brother and SIL since we only see each other when it's a family gathering. I was so looking forward to our painting weekend.
My body completely failed. It got to the point that I could barely stand and lifting the brush was torture. I kept going because I did not want to fail but every movement hurt. I dislocated my shoulder and both hips, my foot was hurting, my hands and fingers were sore, but most of all I was embarrassed. Of all weekends, why now? I even kept thinking "this isn't fair" which is completely irrational and whiny by my standards. I let my brother and SIL down. I let myself down. My body let me down.
I got in the car to drive home. In the car I am free. I am agile, flexible, fast, mobile. I am skilled and I can excel. I am powerful through my car. I turn up the music and just go. I remember when I was a competitive gymnast doing a particularly difficult move that brought on that rush of power over my body. That's how I feel when I drive. After half an hour on my drive, the pain rushed in. After an hour I had to stop driving. Even this thing, this last thing, is compromised by my pain.
I went to bed in pain last night. I slept 9 hours and woke up tired and in pain. There are few moments in the day when I don't have pain. I am so very tired. I'm only 35.
So, today I'm trying AGAIN to get help from a pain clinic. I've been turned down already because I don't fit their patient model. If I were addicted to the narcotics I take every day there are many services I could access. But I'm just in pain. There are so many days that I just want to take whatever will stop the hurt regardless of the risk of addiction, just so that I can go for a walk. I never do, but if I did I would get help. I want to be weak sometimes. I want to walk without pain. I want people to be able to ask me for help and not worry that it's causing me pain. I worry that people will stop asking. I worry that if they do ask I might get hurt.
I don't know how to end this post. I don't know how to resolve this. Somedays it's just background noise, but on days like today it consumes me. So I will end it with hope that someday it will be resolved, and that someday I will freely walk again.
As opposed to most people who paint, I only do the trim and detail work. I can't roll the paint because it puts too much stress on my shoulders, arms and feet. Painting trim usually requires me to be on my hands and knees with only the weight of my brush in my hand. I have to constantly change my position to apply the paint evenly, which lessons the stress on my joints.
My sister-in-law asked me to help her paint, since the trim hadn't yet been painted in her two year old house. I planned a three day weekend to get as much of the main floor done as possible since she lives over two hours away. It was also a chance to spend time with my brother and SIL since we only see each other when it's a family gathering. I was so looking forward to our painting weekend.
My body completely failed. It got to the point that I could barely stand and lifting the brush was torture. I kept going because I did not want to fail but every movement hurt. I dislocated my shoulder and both hips, my foot was hurting, my hands and fingers were sore, but most of all I was embarrassed. Of all weekends, why now? I even kept thinking "this isn't fair" which is completely irrational and whiny by my standards. I let my brother and SIL down. I let myself down. My body let me down.
I got in the car to drive home. In the car I am free. I am agile, flexible, fast, mobile. I am skilled and I can excel. I am powerful through my car. I turn up the music and just go. I remember when I was a competitive gymnast doing a particularly difficult move that brought on that rush of power over my body. That's how I feel when I drive. After half an hour on my drive, the pain rushed in. After an hour I had to stop driving. Even this thing, this last thing, is compromised by my pain.
I went to bed in pain last night. I slept 9 hours and woke up tired and in pain. There are few moments in the day when I don't have pain. I am so very tired. I'm only 35.
So, today I'm trying AGAIN to get help from a pain clinic. I've been turned down already because I don't fit their patient model. If I were addicted to the narcotics I take every day there are many services I could access. But I'm just in pain. There are so many days that I just want to take whatever will stop the hurt regardless of the risk of addiction, just so that I can go for a walk. I never do, but if I did I would get help. I want to be weak sometimes. I want to walk without pain. I want people to be able to ask me for help and not worry that it's causing me pain. I worry that people will stop asking. I worry that if they do ask I might get hurt.
I don't know how to end this post. I don't know how to resolve this. Somedays it's just background noise, but on days like today it consumes me. So I will end it with hope that someday it will be resolved, and that someday I will freely walk again.
posted by LastHope at 6:48 AM
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