Pain is temporary

“Pain is temporary. It may last a minute, or an hour, or a day, or a year, but eventually it will subside and something else will take its place. If I quit, however, it lasts forever.” --Lance Armstong

Sunday was a regular day for me. Mostly. I got up, did my usual Sunday morning chores, and decided to climb up on the roof.

Why oh why would I climb up on the roof? Well, I had to get the pine needles and miscellaneous tree shit off of my roof and out of my gutters. That shit doesn’t just dissipate on its own, no matter how hard you wish for it to.

Anyway, beautiful day, I felt productive and alive. There is nothing quite like sitting on the roof of a house to me. It’s very liberating. Possibly because no one can get to me up there. Who knows.

Later that evening it was time for my shot. You may recall I’ve come to really hate the shots because of the raised welts they’ve been leaving on my stomach and hips as of late.

But, the greater good. Means to an end. All that bullshit. You know. Anyway…

Did the shot (left side hip if you’re wondering) and headed to bed.

NOW, one of the most important things about the shot I do is the side effects. They can include “fever, chills, flu-like symptoms”. In general, if I do it before I go to bed, I sleep through the crap.

For some odd reason, I woke up around 1 am to pee. I got to the bathroom and the chills started. We’re talking muscle tensing, teeth chattering, uncontrollable chills. I high-tail it back to bed, snuggle under the covers and try to control my movement and breathing. No such luck. Teeth chattering more. I sneak my arm out of the side of the bed and reach my sweat pants and socks, manage to put them on under the covers, and I’m still freezing with massive chills.

When you have the chills, you know how your muscles tend to tense up, and the shaking doesn’t stop, and you just can’t seem to get warm? That’s what I had going on. All I could think about was if I could just get something with long sleeves on, I might warm up enough to stop it. Problem. I’d have to get out of bed** and I’m already warmer than I was 10 minutes ago. And so, I do what any self-respecting person would do. I pulled my arms inside my shirt and hugged myself. Still shivering, still miserable, but one step closer to warm.

An hour in, my neck and shoulders start aching like nobody’s business. I can’t even describe how it felt. It was the worst muscular pain I have ever felt. 30 minutes later, my back and legs start to hurt the same way. 30 minutes later, my arms are hurting. For those of you keeping score, at this point it is now 3:00 AM and I’m still chattering and tensing and, shaking.

Around 4 AM, sleep finally found me. When the alarm went off at 5:45, I tried to lean over to turn it off, but my arms were tangled up in my shirt. My boobs were free, and I was covered in sweat.

I tried to get out of bed and the pain that shot through my body was horrendous. I wanted to just hide under the covers. I managed to get up – at about 6:40. Nearly an hour later. I got Josh up, got him ready and took him to Kathy’s. I called in sick and returned to bed. I slept until 1:00 PM.

This morning, I got up and while it only took me until 6:30 to get out of bed, the pain isn’t nearly as bad. However, I’m due to take another shot tonight and I just don’t think I can do it.

Generally, when I get a little bit of pain, some yoga or some exercise fixes the problem. But what am I supposed to do when just doing those things makes the pain so strong that I actually cry?

Chin up, chest out. This too shall pass.

Here’s what’s important. I don’t want your sympathy. I don’t tell you because I want you to feel bad for me. I don’t want a “poor Kim” or “wish there were something I could do”. Know why? Because there is nothing anyone can do, and I’m not poor. I have the greatest family in the world, including a great 5 year old boy who helped mom put on her shoes this morning.

So then why tell you all? Because. I want people to see that you don’t have to give up. As shitty as it can be at times, it’s all temporary. You have two choices. You can sit back and let it win, be horribly miserable and waste your life away wishing it could be better. OR you can view it as a set back, even if it’s the most scary one ever. You can learn from it, make changes to try and avoid the same situation in the future and just be grateful for the good things in your life. I have a family that needs me just as much as I need them. I’ll be damned if something like this is going to get in my way.

Here’s to a better tomorrow. And a better day after that, and day after that. I’ll be changing my shots to a 7-day a week variety without so many side effects.

Jerry has his second surgery (and hopefully the last) tomorrow to put the battery pack inside of his body so he won’t have wires sticking out. If you’re wondering how that’s all working – he’s been able to reduce his pain meds by 50% and they say it should get even better with time. There have been some small issues with the device and the feeling it evokes, but we’re working on those.

I’ll end this the way I started it. Because it’s an incredible statement from an incredible athlete.

“Pain is temporary.

It may last a minute, or an hour, or a day, or a year, but eventually it will subside and something else will take its place.

If I quit, however, it lasts forever.”

I refuse to quit.

**Many people are probably wondering where Jerry is. Jerry has found that it’s actually more comfortable for him to sleep on the couch. And so, he was asleep – on the couch. Where all good husbands belong.

Ask me if you want to donate to my MS Challenge Walk Team.