I’ve been staring at my laptop screen for thirty minutes, trying to come up with something happy (possibly humorous) to write.
I can’t even begin to fake it.
I’m lost in the worst pain flare-up I’ve had in … forever.
And I mean LOST.
Nothing I do is making a dent in the pain.
There are no words to describe anguish like this.
Words can’t do this justice.
Everything I do, including breathing, is escalating the pain.
Everything I do is aggravating my already aggravated, damaged, body.
(Aggravating = take a knife and stab it into yourself repeatedly, then twist it, and then throw some lemon juice on the wounds for good measure.)
My nerves are firing pain signals as fast as they possibly can … as if someone gave the nerves themselves a shot of speed.
Each day I think the pain has to get better tomorrow -
Only to discover, the next day, the screaming of my nerves is somehow unfathomably worse.
I have an appointment to see a physical therapist (not The Torturer) on Thursday.
In addition to being a physical therapist, New Man In My Life (I don’t have a blog name for him yet) is also certified in A.R.T.
A.R.T. stands for Active Release Technique.
Two visits ago, Dr. Painless told me he thinks A.R.T. might help with some of the problems I have in the muscles/nerves surrounding my disabled arm.
It won’t fix my arm, but it could (possibly) help with some of the muscles and nerves nearby.
I thought I’d look into it after the first of the year, because omigod I’m so friggin’ busy right now.
Pain doesn’t care what else is going on in your life.
Pain can make you stop everything and listen.
And if you don’t?
Pain will get louder, and louder, and louder until you’re forced to listen.
So, how bad did the pain have to get before I called for an appointment?
I’m days, upon days, into this intense (getting more intense by the minute) flare-up …
Yesterday, I called to make an appointment with New Man In My Life.
After four years of physical therapy, I’ve been in no hurry to go back to it.
Just thinking about PT brings back bad memories – memories of unparalleled physical suffering, not to mention unexpected emotional pain.
If you’ve been reading along with my car accident journey, you know I can’t move my arm much. (I only have about 20% use of my arm – possibly less.)
Not moving my arm, causes a lot of problems with all the surrounding muscles in my neck, back, and chest. I need someone to move my arm for me. My arm/shoulder/upper body hasn’t been cared for properly since The Torturer Debacle.
I do a handful of independent physical therapy exercises at home. Clearly, it hasn’t been enough. The neglect has now caught up with me in an evil, horrible, way.
(And with the worst possible timing – hello holidays!)
So forgive me if this post is written poorly -
I’m being tortured by damaged nerves.
I’m on drugs which fog up my brain, but can’t seem to dent the cruelty of severe pain.
And yet, I thought some of you might know …
Does Active Release Technique work?
Do you have any A.R.T. stories (good or bad) to share?
If you do …
I really hope you’ll share.