sevenhelz: photo of me snuggling a cat. my face is not shown (Default)
posted by [personal profile] sevenhelz at 08:11am on 26/07/2008 under , ,
Edit: This post unlocked because why should I have to hide it?

I am no longer in horrendous pain this morning.

That's an optimistic sentence to be starting with isn't it? It's true. I am no longer in horrendous pain. Earlier I was in horrendous pain, now I'm not. You'd think I'd be quite happy about that, and yeah, I suppose I am. I'm more relieved though; even though I took my painkiller, I half expected the pain to get worse. I might not have eaten enough with it.

I started getting a sort of period pain in my late teens, I forget exactly when, but a few years ago. It's not cramps. It's horrendous back pain. You'll notice I use that word, horrendous, a lot. That's because in all this time I have never found a more fitting word. The pain is horrendous. It feels like a pain in the lower portion of my spine, but it also feels affected by the gassiness of my stomach, and the weakness and dryness that spread through my body seem to stem from the surrounding area. Not only does my back hurt, every month I spend anywhere between 15 minutes (if I catch it early and take my pill) and 24 hours (if I try to go without) feeling pathetic, weak, helpless.

The pain is, well, painful, and it's also frightening. I know that, no matter how bad I think it is now, it can always get worse. I know this because before I discovered pain relief like ibuprofen and the mefenamic acid I now have prescribed (occasionally, because I get loads at once) I discovered that the pain is worsened by cold, certain positions, and certain movements. Trying to rid myself of some of the gassiness doesn't help because damn, it's pretty much limitless, and getting to the toilet means cold, movement and a bad position. Before I discovered pain relief I also had the joyous life experience of having intense pain spread from my lower back up through my spine and radiate out, feeling hot and cold in waves and throbbing somewhat, though the intensity never seemed to dim particularly. So the low-grade, dull ache I get most months is barely worth moaning about, you might think. If it were going to stay that low-level, I might just curl up as a little spoon and press my (actually not) cold little back into my lovely boy's warm tummy, but it never fucking does stay that low-level, that's just my warning time. God help me if I try to sleep through it, as I did this time, because there really is no time limit on how long I can feel crap for, and I won't sleep well and by the time I wake up I'll barely be able to move.

I don't quite know what else to say about that. I do hope I've explained my sensations clearly, and that you have some idea of how horrible this monthly pain is. No sarcasm or patronisation intended, just trying to be straightforward. I have considered the idea, after reading Cunt, that the pain might be worse the month after taking medication, but I haven't kept a diary and so couldn't tell you. Go me.

Dave's playing Final Fantasy VII in the other room right now. He doesn't particularly like me blogging. He's spent most of my recovery time this morning talking online, presumably to his friend Tony, presumably about guitars, presumably because he felt annoyed and frustrated, either with something I said or because of his own helplessness. He did bring me a hot wheat pack, my pills and a banana when I asked for help, and while I would have appreciated more food than that, the act of fetching these things would have caused me an awful lot more pain and upset. So his presence is valuable and I am grateful for his help. I am less grateful for his attitude. I am hurt, in fact. We have told each other previously that we will always take care of each other, and here I was in pain, and he did the bare minimum to help me, and didn't ask if he could do anything else, but went online and paid no attention to me. Being generous, I could infer that he was upset or embarrassed or frustrated that he didn't think he could do any more, but had he bothered to ask, I would've appreciated more food and certainly a glass of water. But no. I asked him to try and make me laugh (reasoning that the one time I managed this feat whilst feeling so crap, it seemed to help, and also that he was on the internet and, you know, there is actually some humour available on there) and he whined no and asked me how he would make me laugh. I was somewhat taken aback, and a little angry. But too weak to start an argument, or to be able to state a point without it sounding like a complaint. Having little vocal control when I am tired, hungry, or upset has caused a few problems between us in the past, because Dave reacts strongly to vocal tone and then claims it was the words he had a problem with. I'm sure I do the same, but I do try to explain the vocal tones that set me off, partly because I'm very bad at remembering the actual words used.

I don't know where I'm going with this. I'm not particularly happy, but there again I don't feel as bad as I did before I started.Hope you all are alright.

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