The long and short of it is I've been buried in pain and unconsciousness. When I've been well enough to be awake and about, I've spent that time with my family. My humblest apology to all my readers for this neglect. I value your opinions, thoughts, feelings, and all the care and respect that you've showered me with. I'm sorry that my two blogging projects were put on hold for so long, and I'm looking forward to getting back into them.
I find it vaguely humorous that this dilemma is exactly why I stopped guitar lessons. I loved to teach, but when I had the strength to do anything I did it with my family. This time around has been more about me not being able to do much of anything over the past weeks. I've been getting up, eating, and trying desperately to get back to sleep to avoid my pain. Typically, this process ends when I pass out on the couch from the pain, and come to some time later to get a drink, and then repeat the process.
Not all days have been bad. I had a nice, long day last week, spending time with my best friend, Jhon Baker. That adventure took place on Wednesday and I didn't recover until late yesterday. I was able to go watch my son swim again last week. That half hour ordeal left me worried that I wouldn't be able to make the Wednesday trip...
This is the way my life works; is carefully balanced. I have to select what I want to spend time on, and let go of everything else.
Showing posts with label Pain Management. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pain Management. Show all posts
Monday, March 28, 2011
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Page Changes, Tiredness
For those of you who haven't noticed, I've added a couple new pages to my blog. You can reach them at the top of the page. The first one is a treatment log, and the second one is images, articles, and videos that directly relate to being a veteran with RSD. I have also changed one of my links to Rebecca's Whims. I felt inclined to add this link because she makes herbal pillows that really do help with relaxation and muscle fatigue, things I know others with RSD and chronic pain are very familiar with. That's about it for page updates. Oh, and I've been hearing many people comment that there's no place to comment on my page. Please make sure you're in the blog entry by clicking its title and I assure you there will be a place to comment.
The weekend was a busy one, and I've been paying for it dearly over the last couple days. I've been in a bit of a daze and fading in and out of reality. I'm sure this would be a fun thing if I was on vacation and wanted to catch up on sleep, but it's simply what life is now when I attempt to exert myself. Today has been a bit of a recovery day as well, but I think the worst is over and I'm ready to sit down and write some new poems and short stories, as well as work on other projects I have going. Please follow the link to the right to Shear's Shorts to read some of my work and listen to my music if you have the time and inclination to do so.
Sorry this is such a brief entry, but I assure you there will be plenty to write about over the next few weeks with my Social Security trial coming up on the 3rd of March, and my medical exams having been completed for the Veteran's Benefits claim.
Thanks for stopping by,
K.M. Shear
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Medicinal Updates
My appointment with the Pain Clinic was yesterday morning. The journey to Milwaukee has left me reeling, but it was a productive one.
I'm not sure if I have discussed the difficulties I have with different modes of transportation, so I'll explore that here and get back to the medicinal updates to close this entry.
Prior to my RSD outbreak I would travel by train to Chicago on alternating weekends to take custody of my daughter for visitation. I can no longer ride a train due to the severe increase of pain caused by the seat designs, vibrations during movement, and overall roughness of the trip. My visitation has been nearly reduced to 0, and I only visit with my daughter when I am able to find vehicular transportation to Chicago, and then it is only when she has large portions of time off of school.
So trains are no longer a possible form of transportation.
My mother owns a Subaru something or other, and it's seat design is a nightmare for an individual with RSD in a lower extremity. The sides of the bottom portion of the seat have large pads that stick up roughly two inches from the bottom pad. When sitting in these seats those side cushions inevitably bump the leg and put an undue pressure upon it. This causes severe pain that can take several days to recover from.
My mother is the individual who takes me to roughly half of my appointments.
Other vehicles that don't have elevated sides to the bottom cushion are fine as long as they have a decent suspense system. If the shocks are overly stiff it causes rough jolts that severely increase my pain.
Back to medications.
The doctors are putting notes into their system requesting changes to a majority of my medications. Instead of Fentanyl, they're requesting a prescription for Methadone. Vinlafaxin (or however it is spelled) will be replaced by Cymbalta, and they're prescribing a powerful muscle relaxant for all my muscle spasms...
As the medications come in I'll update my medications page.
I have to admit that, despite the increased pain, I slept well last night with zero nightmares. Very exciting!
Thank you all for taking the time to read my thoughts.
Sincerely,
K.M. Shear
I'm not sure if I have discussed the difficulties I have with different modes of transportation, so I'll explore that here and get back to the medicinal updates to close this entry.
Prior to my RSD outbreak I would travel by train to Chicago on alternating weekends to take custody of my daughter for visitation. I can no longer ride a train due to the severe increase of pain caused by the seat designs, vibrations during movement, and overall roughness of the trip. My visitation has been nearly reduced to 0, and I only visit with my daughter when I am able to find vehicular transportation to Chicago, and then it is only when she has large portions of time off of school.
So trains are no longer a possible form of transportation.
My mother owns a Subaru something or other, and it's seat design is a nightmare for an individual with RSD in a lower extremity. The sides of the bottom portion of the seat have large pads that stick up roughly two inches from the bottom pad. When sitting in these seats those side cushions inevitably bump the leg and put an undue pressure upon it. This causes severe pain that can take several days to recover from.
My mother is the individual who takes me to roughly half of my appointments.
Other vehicles that don't have elevated sides to the bottom cushion are fine as long as they have a decent suspense system. If the shocks are overly stiff it causes rough jolts that severely increase my pain.
Back to medications.
The doctors are putting notes into their system requesting changes to a majority of my medications. Instead of Fentanyl, they're requesting a prescription for Methadone. Vinlafaxin (or however it is spelled) will be replaced by Cymbalta, and they're prescribing a powerful muscle relaxant for all my muscle spasms...
As the medications come in I'll update my medications page.
I have to admit that, despite the increased pain, I slept well last night with zero nightmares. Very exciting!
Thank you all for taking the time to read my thoughts.
Sincerely,
K.M. Shear
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
In A Puddle
Over the weekend my family celebrated my son's third birthday. It was a wonderful experience watching the children play and eat. We went to the Rain Forrest Cafe in a nearby mall. We rented a wheel chair for me so that I could visit some of the stores and get around easily. The trip was overly painful and exhaustive, but worth every minute of suffering.
I was very pleased with how quickly I recovered, and in my excitement of feeling mildly 'ok' I asked my mother to take my son and I to the bookstore yesterday. During the adventure my son misplaced his hat, and my mother went to look for it while Lincoln and I browsed the kids area.
I turned round and Lincoln was gone. He had run off to play in the toy area. The poor child looked up at me and said, "I peed." His eyes were pleading, and his little hands were stretched out as if he was asking me to pick him up and take him away to a safe place. All I could do was stand there and hold his hand while we waited for his grandmother to come and help get him cleaned up. I felt I had failed as a parent because of my disability.
Today the pain is very severe. The combination of the trip to the mall, and the trip to the bookstore, has left me reeling in agony. Everything burns on my right side, and all I can think to do is hope I pass out sooner, rather than later, and pray when I come to the pain has subsided. I'm not at a point were I may have to go to the hospital, but if the pain continues to grow I may end up there at some point. Time will tell I suppose.
I'm up to the full dose of the PTSD medication I was prescribed, and I'm not sure it's working. I'm still having nightmares, but I'm waking up in the midsts of them very startled. If, in my dream, I'm dropping something, I awake grasping for it. The sudden jerks at the time of awakening have caused pain levels to be aggravated due to accidental bumps of the limbs during the thrashing about. I'm also still very jumpy and sensitive to loud noises.
When anything gets loud I start to loose my patience, grind my teeth, and if it's sudden enough I find myself curling away to protect the parts of my body that aren't afflicted with RSD. I have no control over these reactions, and, believe me, I've made several attempts to minimize the behavior with no success.
Thank you all for taking the time to read,
K.M. Shear
I was very pleased with how quickly I recovered, and in my excitement of feeling mildly 'ok' I asked my mother to take my son and I to the bookstore yesterday. During the adventure my son misplaced his hat, and my mother went to look for it while Lincoln and I browsed the kids area.
I turned round and Lincoln was gone. He had run off to play in the toy area. The poor child looked up at me and said, "I peed." His eyes were pleading, and his little hands were stretched out as if he was asking me to pick him up and take him away to a safe place. All I could do was stand there and hold his hand while we waited for his grandmother to come and help get him cleaned up. I felt I had failed as a parent because of my disability.
Today the pain is very severe. The combination of the trip to the mall, and the trip to the bookstore, has left me reeling in agony. Everything burns on my right side, and all I can think to do is hope I pass out sooner, rather than later, and pray when I come to the pain has subsided. I'm not at a point were I may have to go to the hospital, but if the pain continues to grow I may end up there at some point. Time will tell I suppose.
I'm up to the full dose of the PTSD medication I was prescribed, and I'm not sure it's working. I'm still having nightmares, but I'm waking up in the midsts of them very startled. If, in my dream, I'm dropping something, I awake grasping for it. The sudden jerks at the time of awakening have caused pain levels to be aggravated due to accidental bumps of the limbs during the thrashing about. I'm also still very jumpy and sensitive to loud noises.
When anything gets loud I start to loose my patience, grind my teeth, and if it's sudden enough I find myself curling away to protect the parts of my body that aren't afflicted with RSD. I have no control over these reactions, and, believe me, I've made several attempts to minimize the behavior with no success.
Thank you all for taking the time to read,
K.M. Shear
Friday, February 4, 2011
The Full Dose
Last night was the first time taking the full dose of my PTSD medication. I haven't seen much of a change in my dream patterns. It's interesting that I now wake up mid dream though. Last night I had a dream that my son was falling through an elevator shaft, the door had closed on my leg, and I was reaching for him desperately. I woke up flailing and in tears. The flailing doesn't seem to be helping me with my pain.
I have hopes that I'll be able to clean up a poem I began work on during my appointments last week. I wrote it in the waiting area. I hate that area. It's sterile, white, and wreaks of mental institution. I'm only mildly psychologically impaired and I felt like I had been committed; can't fathom what this would be like for an individual breaking at their psychological core. The room is complete with old fashioned television broadcasting some form of white trash project, unfinished puzzle on the single round table at the back of the room. The windows are covered with a metal mesh screen, and the men in white lab coats drift here and there collecting their next subject with the mild call of a name. You can feel the discomfort of others as they glance about wondering what form of hell they just stepped, or wheeled, into.
I set out to write a journal entry, but the only thing that came to mind was poetic in nature. I hope I can finish it and post it on my Shear's Shorts site. There's a link to the right that you can click to get to it.
My Fentanyl patches seem to want to only stick to my fore arms. I've tried to get them to hold on for their three day period in other places, but to no avail. I'm sure the appearance of the patches on my arms makes doctors question my use of them. Even when I try to explain they turn a distrusting eye in my direction. Since the appliance of the patches I haven't needed to be seen in an Emergency Room, and I think that should be a check mark in the 'win' column, but my sleep schedule is wrecked, if not non-existant, and some days I feel an unstoppable drag pulling me into sleep state while other days I can't seem to calm down.
Enough droning for one morning. I have words to craft.
My humblest appreciation to those of you still reading,
K.M. Shear
I have hopes that I'll be able to clean up a poem I began work on during my appointments last week. I wrote it in the waiting area. I hate that area. It's sterile, white, and wreaks of mental institution. I'm only mildly psychologically impaired and I felt like I had been committed; can't fathom what this would be like for an individual breaking at their psychological core. The room is complete with old fashioned television broadcasting some form of white trash project, unfinished puzzle on the single round table at the back of the room. The windows are covered with a metal mesh screen, and the men in white lab coats drift here and there collecting their next subject with the mild call of a name. You can feel the discomfort of others as they glance about wondering what form of hell they just stepped, or wheeled, into.
I set out to write a journal entry, but the only thing that came to mind was poetic in nature. I hope I can finish it and post it on my Shear's Shorts site. There's a link to the right that you can click to get to it.
My Fentanyl patches seem to want to only stick to my fore arms. I've tried to get them to hold on for their three day period in other places, but to no avail. I'm sure the appearance of the patches on my arms makes doctors question my use of them. Even when I try to explain they turn a distrusting eye in my direction. Since the appliance of the patches I haven't needed to be seen in an Emergency Room, and I think that should be a check mark in the 'win' column, but my sleep schedule is wrecked, if not non-existant, and some days I feel an unstoppable drag pulling me into sleep state while other days I can't seem to calm down.
Enough droning for one morning. I have words to craft.
My humblest appreciation to those of you still reading,
K.M. Shear
Monday, January 31, 2011
Exhaustive Progress
I would like to start by expressing my sincerest apology to all of my readers. I had never intended on letting my disability get in the way of providing detailed information and opinions to my readers' awareness. It's been several days since my last posting.
Truth be told, I've found myself very drained since my last set of medical appointments. Last Monday I was scene in Milwaukee to evaluate my nightmares, and then a full day was spent this past Thursday at the North Chicago facility for evaluations in conjunction to my claims. Progress was made, but was severely taxing on my own level of will. I've spent several days now over the last week simply unconscious; with a mind to create and write, but no will to do so. I'm not sure if it's a matter of depression, or simply my body quitting on me. I'm unsure if I'd even want to know. If it's depression I'm doomed to adding more mediations to an, already, oversized list. If it's my body unable to handle the stresses I put it through then it stands to reason that future endeavors may put me out of commission as well...
I learned that the symptoms I'm exhibiting are those of an individual with PTSD. They prescribed Prazosin to help ease the nightmares, and want to keep an eye on me to combat my other symptoms if they get overly grand. Sadly, because my trauma is ongoing, I can not be diagnosed with PTSD, but they'll be treating me as a PTSD patient... I'm not sure what kind of medical sense that makes, but that's what I've been told.
The full day of diagnostics on Thursday really took a toll. I was examined by 4 different professionals and had multiple ex-rays and scans completed. The doctors seemed honestly baffled that I was denied my initial claim. The neurologist even told us that his initial write up was of an individual barely able to conduct the basest of human activity. We were given his name and express instructions to contact him should we be denied another time. Amy was allowed to be present through every examination except the psychological exam. This was a major difference compared to previous visits. There was a certain level of remorse and explanations that they couldn't comprehend how they denied the benefits increase. I suppose that if things have to go to a hearing level we'll have their doctor's testifying on our behalf...
I'm hoping that I've caught up on my sleep and have recuperated enough to start my life again. I'm not overly tired at the moment and think I'll journal a bit (I keep a paper journal) and work on some poetry. If I manage to stay awake tomorrow then I have plans to finish 'The Three Musketeers' and find a new piece of literature to delve into. The last few days my vision has been terrible, and I attribute it to the exertions of last week. Time will only tell. I'll make plans to have a new post with updated information later in the week...
Thank you all for taking the time to read,
K.M.Shear
Truth be told, I've found myself very drained since my last set of medical appointments. Last Monday I was scene in Milwaukee to evaluate my nightmares, and then a full day was spent this past Thursday at the North Chicago facility for evaluations in conjunction to my claims. Progress was made, but was severely taxing on my own level of will. I've spent several days now over the last week simply unconscious; with a mind to create and write, but no will to do so. I'm not sure if it's a matter of depression, or simply my body quitting on me. I'm unsure if I'd even want to know. If it's depression I'm doomed to adding more mediations to an, already, oversized list. If it's my body unable to handle the stresses I put it through then it stands to reason that future endeavors may put me out of commission as well...
I learned that the symptoms I'm exhibiting are those of an individual with PTSD. They prescribed Prazosin to help ease the nightmares, and want to keep an eye on me to combat my other symptoms if they get overly grand. Sadly, because my trauma is ongoing, I can not be diagnosed with PTSD, but they'll be treating me as a PTSD patient... I'm not sure what kind of medical sense that makes, but that's what I've been told.
The full day of diagnostics on Thursday really took a toll. I was examined by 4 different professionals and had multiple ex-rays and scans completed. The doctors seemed honestly baffled that I was denied my initial claim. The neurologist even told us that his initial write up was of an individual barely able to conduct the basest of human activity. We were given his name and express instructions to contact him should we be denied another time. Amy was allowed to be present through every examination except the psychological exam. This was a major difference compared to previous visits. There was a certain level of remorse and explanations that they couldn't comprehend how they denied the benefits increase. I suppose that if things have to go to a hearing level we'll have their doctor's testifying on our behalf...
I'm hoping that I've caught up on my sleep and have recuperated enough to start my life again. I'm not overly tired at the moment and think I'll journal a bit (I keep a paper journal) and work on some poetry. If I manage to stay awake tomorrow then I have plans to finish 'The Three Musketeers' and find a new piece of literature to delve into. The last few days my vision has been terrible, and I attribute it to the exertions of last week. Time will only tell. I'll make plans to have a new post with updated information later in the week...
Thank you all for taking the time to read,
K.M.Shear
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Lacking Tools
I was going to do a follow-up post about my appointment last night. Amy beat me to it. If you all don't mind taking a minute to click a link and read about it there, I'll fill you in on some of my views when you get back... (You may also want to follow her blog because she often has entries from a different perspective)
Amy's Blog
I was privy to some profound outlooks on my disability by my Primary Care doctor. The most profound was that he didn't believe RSDS/CRPS pain was worse than natural child birth or cancer. It's been reported, consistently, by people who have had two of the three, but he doesn't agree with the reported findings. Second, possibly tied with the first statement, was that it 'may be time to seek treatment somewhere else.' This is a service connected disability, and he's the second medical professional to tell me I may want to look into getting treatment outside the VA....
Mind you, that this conversation was taking place while I was on the verge of blacking out from my pain and mildly dribbling urine into my pants. The appointment ended with a prescription for Fentanyl, and the feeling that all the evidence wasn't going to be included in the doctor's notes...
That's a big kick in the chops, because the VA won't award me benefits due to the lack of solid notation by my doctors...
So, I'm home, mildly stoned from the high concentration of narcotic (Fentanyl is more powerful than morphine), and trying to organize my thoughts into some form of attack plan for the rest of my day. God willing, I'll get something done today! ;)
Thank you all for taking the time to read.
You're appreciated,
Kev
Amy's Blog
I was privy to some profound outlooks on my disability by my Primary Care doctor. The most profound was that he didn't believe RSDS/CRPS pain was worse than natural child birth or cancer. It's been reported, consistently, by people who have had two of the three, but he doesn't agree with the reported findings. Second, possibly tied with the first statement, was that it 'may be time to seek treatment somewhere else.' This is a service connected disability, and he's the second medical professional to tell me I may want to look into getting treatment outside the VA....
Mind you, that this conversation was taking place while I was on the verge of blacking out from my pain and mildly dribbling urine into my pants. The appointment ended with a prescription for Fentanyl, and the feeling that all the evidence wasn't going to be included in the doctor's notes...
That's a big kick in the chops, because the VA won't award me benefits due to the lack of solid notation by my doctors...
So, I'm home, mildly stoned from the high concentration of narcotic (Fentanyl is more powerful than morphine), and trying to organize my thoughts into some form of attack plan for the rest of my day. God willing, I'll get something done today! ;)
Thank you all for taking the time to read.
You're appreciated,
Kev
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Let's Try This Again
Last week I missed my appointment with my primary care because I ended up in the emergency room. The appointment was rescheduled for today, and last night I thought I was going to end up in the ER again. This morning is a different story. I'm awake, in pain, but doing well enough to not need the ER visit.
We'll see how the rest of the day goes...
I've been trying to dedicate a little bit of each day to working on some writing. I'm in the midst of co-translating a Danish novel for my friend L.G. Jensen, working on three poems, my own novel, and writing three songs. A little bit each day is all I aim for, and, when I can do no more, I lay down and rest. It's aggravating not being able to work through things consistently, but I'm happy I get a little bit of time each day to try and accomplish things.
The pain is getting very difficult to manage. I hope today's visit will yield a better arrangement to controlling my pain.
We'll see how the rest of the day goes...
I've been trying to dedicate a little bit of each day to working on some writing. I'm in the midst of co-translating a Danish novel for my friend L.G. Jensen, working on three poems, my own novel, and writing three songs. A little bit each day is all I aim for, and, when I can do no more, I lay down and rest. It's aggravating not being able to work through things consistently, but I'm happy I get a little bit of time each day to try and accomplish things.
The pain is getting very difficult to manage. I hope today's visit will yield a better arrangement to controlling my pain.
Friday, January 14, 2011
One More Time, With Feeling
So, for those of you who haven't heard yet, I spent the majority of Wednesday in the ER, and the majority of yesterday trying to recover. Today is a new day, and I plan on making the most of it; the most of what my pain will let me.
The ER visit was a 'new' one. We were headed to the Milwaukee V.A. for an appointment anyway, so I just spent an hour, passing out here and there, in the car to get to the ER versus twenty minutes. The doctor was great, taking detailed notes and switching me from morphine to dalauted and valium. I was there for six hours, and they kept coming in every hour or so to shoot me up with more pain killers. I wish I was closer to the Milwaukee clinic so I could go there for all my ER visits. They really have a remarkable staff and facility there, and I would highly recommend anyone to go there vise anywhere else.
Yesterday I felt like I'd been hit by a truck. My heart rate in the ER was in excess of 170 beats per minute when I arrived. My leg still feels like I'd been breaking boards with my thigh, foot, and calf. The prescribed muscle relaxers aren't helping much either. My muscles are still very knotted up and firing at odd times. I'm surprised nothing broke mid trip.
Today is a new day, and I plan to take full advantage of what my body will let me.
The ER visit was a 'new' one. We were headed to the Milwaukee V.A. for an appointment anyway, so I just spent an hour, passing out here and there, in the car to get to the ER versus twenty minutes. The doctor was great, taking detailed notes and switching me from morphine to dalauted and valium. I was there for six hours, and they kept coming in every hour or so to shoot me up with more pain killers. I wish I was closer to the Milwaukee clinic so I could go there for all my ER visits. They really have a remarkable staff and facility there, and I would highly recommend anyone to go there vise anywhere else.
Yesterday I felt like I'd been hit by a truck. My heart rate in the ER was in excess of 170 beats per minute when I arrived. My leg still feels like I'd been breaking boards with my thigh, foot, and calf. The prescribed muscle relaxers aren't helping much either. My muscles are still very knotted up and firing at odd times. I'm surprised nothing broke mid trip.
Today is a new day, and I plan to take full advantage of what my body will let me.
Friday, December 17, 2010
Back to the ER
I spent several hours at the ER last night. I was at a Marnie Corps League meeting when my outbreak started, and by the end of the meeting I had to be carried out. I even blacked out while trying to get into the van. They gave me my injections of pain killers directly into the muscle and didn't run an IV. Having them administered this way worked far better than through an IV. They took a bit longer to kick in, but lasted far longer. In the future I'm going to request this form of administration..
Tonight I'm hurting. We had to drive to the Milwaukee V.A. to pick up my medical records. There must have been over 100 pages of information. Hopefully I'll be able to comb through it and present supporting facts for my case. I only wish that the V.F.W. would have been doing this.
I started working on a new song, and hope to have it up on my poetry site by tomorrow evening. I've been developing the songs to fit into a CD titled 'Just One Breath', and the song I'm working on will have that title. It's, perhaps, the lightest song I've written, and it feels good to do something more uplifting.
I was featured at Web of Life. So please take a few minutes and read the post, and check out their site. These gentleman have a genuine love of life and belief in positives. I think you'll all find it an uplifting experience.
I wanted to tell you all how much I appreciate all the support you all have given my family. I'm quite anxious about our upcoming eviction, but I'm trying to focus on how it can be a useful tool in ensuring future veterans with RSD don't have to experience this. Regardless, I am feeling something I haven't felt in quite a while. Love.
It feels good to tell my friends and family that I love them, and too few people do it. I'm not sure if there's a reason for not saying it, but I'm going to say it anyway.
With love and respect,
Kevin Shear
Tonight I'm hurting. We had to drive to the Milwaukee V.A. to pick up my medical records. There must have been over 100 pages of information. Hopefully I'll be able to comb through it and present supporting facts for my case. I only wish that the V.F.W. would have been doing this.
I started working on a new song, and hope to have it up on my poetry site by tomorrow evening. I've been developing the songs to fit into a CD titled 'Just One Breath', and the song I'm working on will have that title. It's, perhaps, the lightest song I've written, and it feels good to do something more uplifting.
I was featured at Web of Life. So please take a few minutes and read the post, and check out their site. These gentleman have a genuine love of life and belief in positives. I think you'll all find it an uplifting experience.
I wanted to tell you all how much I appreciate all the support you all have given my family. I'm quite anxious about our upcoming eviction, but I'm trying to focus on how it can be a useful tool in ensuring future veterans with RSD don't have to experience this. Regardless, I am feeling something I haven't felt in quite a while. Love.
It feels good to tell my friends and family that I love them, and too few people do it. I'm not sure if there's a reason for not saying it, but I'm going to say it anyway.
With love and respect,
Kevin Shear
Friday, November 19, 2010
So Much To Say
Because I'm home all day, with nothing much to do, I've been investing my time in music, art, and writing. I started a new blog for my work. If anyone is interested there is a link at the bottom of the page, or you can click here.
Today is the wake for a young lance corporal who was killed overseas. He was only 20 years old and left behind a wife, 19 years old, and a daughter of only a few months. Tomorrow they will lay him to rest in a local cemetery. I wish I knew him; could thank him for having made the ultimate sacrifice for our freedom and safety.
In the near future I will be posting a link to a foundation, set up by the mother of another dead marine, that utilizes Build-A-Bear to give hope to the children who's parent is overseas. They're setting it up so that the parent can record a message before they ship out, and then the organization gives the recording to the child to be placed in a bear. I'll have an embedded video and links for those of you who are willing to make donations.
I've been teetering on the edge of needing to go to the hospital. The pain gets to the point where I'm ready to pass out and then resides. Coastal tides of nightmare pain. I imagine it could be equated to that feeling of nausea that comes and goes when you're sick. You simply want to be sick and done with it. I simply want to black out and be shot up with liquid pain relief.
Thanks for taking the time to read my words, and I hope you'll take a few moments to enjoy my creative side.
Today is the wake for a young lance corporal who was killed overseas. He was only 20 years old and left behind a wife, 19 years old, and a daughter of only a few months. Tomorrow they will lay him to rest in a local cemetery. I wish I knew him; could thank him for having made the ultimate sacrifice for our freedom and safety.
In the near future I will be posting a link to a foundation, set up by the mother of another dead marine, that utilizes Build-A-Bear to give hope to the children who's parent is overseas. They're setting it up so that the parent can record a message before they ship out, and then the organization gives the recording to the child to be placed in a bear. I'll have an embedded video and links for those of you who are willing to make donations.
I've been teetering on the edge of needing to go to the hospital. The pain gets to the point where I'm ready to pass out and then resides. Coastal tides of nightmare pain. I imagine it could be equated to that feeling of nausea that comes and goes when you're sick. You simply want to be sick and done with it. I simply want to black out and be shot up with liquid pain relief.
Thanks for taking the time to read my words, and I hope you'll take a few moments to enjoy my creative side.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
6 Million Dollar Me
One of the methods of controlling RSD pain is with a spinal chord stimulator. It's a device that's a little bigger than a tic-tac box that pumps an electric current through the sympathetic nervous system. The theory behind it is that it will disrupt, and distract, the brains ability to focus on the pain.
At my RSD support group last Sunday I met a woman who had one and it had given her the ability to go back to work as a teacher. Her RSD was in her arm and hand, but the device was working exactly as it was supposed to.
My implant doesn't work. I have all the tingly fun of an implant with all the pain mixed in. On Monday I met with one of the representatives from Medtronics, the company that made my implant, in the hope that there would be some adjustment that could be made to increase its efficiency. So now my implant turns on and off, all on it's own, and still doesn't work. There's nothing worse than having something jolt you while you're busy holding your breath trying to fight through massive amounts of pain.
This morning I woke up in such a bad state that I couldn't remember the specifics of events that went down over the last week or so. General concepts were still there, I remember having made a phone call or going to the hospital, but names, faces, and specific topics discussed are all gone.
There was a funny process that happened then. First I was scared, then angry, then just depressed. Now it's still a bit scary, I still don't have any of those memories back, but it's kind of funny. I always wondered what it would be like to wake up and forget everything that had been happening. I have a morbid understanding of what that would be like now. I'm not sure I'm looking forward to the next occurrence though...
Tonight I'm going to try and work with my bionic implants, and perhaps tomorrow I'll wake up as the next Lee Majors...
At my RSD support group last Sunday I met a woman who had one and it had given her the ability to go back to work as a teacher. Her RSD was in her arm and hand, but the device was working exactly as it was supposed to.
My implant doesn't work. I have all the tingly fun of an implant with all the pain mixed in. On Monday I met with one of the representatives from Medtronics, the company that made my implant, in the hope that there would be some adjustment that could be made to increase its efficiency. So now my implant turns on and off, all on it's own, and still doesn't work. There's nothing worse than having something jolt you while you're busy holding your breath trying to fight through massive amounts of pain.
This morning I woke up in such a bad state that I couldn't remember the specifics of events that went down over the last week or so. General concepts were still there, I remember having made a phone call or going to the hospital, but names, faces, and specific topics discussed are all gone.
There was a funny process that happened then. First I was scared, then angry, then just depressed. Now it's still a bit scary, I still don't have any of those memories back, but it's kind of funny. I always wondered what it would be like to wake up and forget everything that had been happening. I have a morbid understanding of what that would be like now. I'm not sure I'm looking forward to the next occurrence though...
Tonight I'm going to try and work with my bionic implants, and perhaps tomorrow I'll wake up as the next Lee Majors...
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Unavoidable Nostalgia
I game to help alleviate my pain. It gets me focused and helps me put my present situation into a fog. I just traded a bunch of my old games for a new one that came out. Every time I try to play it I have flash backs to when everything started, and I'm having a hard time playing it. It's frustrating because it really is a great game, but the unavoidable nostalgia makes my eyes water and my soul swim in a not so nice pool of pity.
I've got a terrible headache. That makes gaming not so fun either. The current theory behind my headaches is that my body is trying so hard to fight against my pain that it's causing an undue level of stress that creeps up my back, over the top of my head, and nestles in behind my eyes.
At least I have a good excuse to get my wife to rub my shoulders. ;)
I've got a terrible headache. That makes gaming not so fun either. The current theory behind my headaches is that my body is trying so hard to fight against my pain that it's causing an undue level of stress that creeps up my back, over the top of my head, and nestles in behind my eyes.
At least I have a good excuse to get my wife to rub my shoulders. ;)
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