In August 1995, I was a SSgt in the Air Force, and I was doing my annual M16 training, something I'd done many times in the past. That night, though, I woke up to take care of business, and couldn't move. After 3 days of extensive pain, I went to the clinic, where the doctor said I had herniated a disk. After another 3 days I went back, and the second doctor told me that I didn't herniate anything, and I'd be fine.
I did start to kind of heal up after a week or so, and my unit was getting ready to deploy, so I jumped in to help. I was pulling generator cables, which are huge, heavy things, when I felt a pop in my back, and knew I'd done something bad. Even so, no one did an MRI on me for 6 months, and when they finally did, they could see the damage to the spine and a couple disk herniations. Ya think? Anyway, I fought to get healed, get better, and to stay in, but alas, I was medically discharged after a couple of years. That was devastating to me. Ah well.
Now, due to some surgeons who messed up badly (leaving a hunk of disk matter inside, where it happily wrapped around the nerves of the spine, causing severe nerve damange), and doctors who would not listen to me, I fight severe pain all the time. Well, except in my left leg and foot, that's all numb thanks to the nerve damage! (This is off topic, but I figure if I ever did get a tattoo, I would put it on my left calf. Shouldn't hurt!) After about 9 surgeries, the nerve damage, and having to spend 2 months in extreme pain and being unable to walk (again, thanks to the lovely doctors here that would not listen to me. I actually had cysts and 2 herniated disks), I now have a great doctor in Pain Management. I have to go to another city, but it's worth it.
When all this was going on, my husband became sick with liver cancer, and he went downhill very quickly, dying 2 months after his diagnosis. His last words were, "Well, S..t!" when he was told his kidneys were failing. That actually made me smile, because that was a phrase he used all the time. He was retired Air Force, and is buried in a National Cemetery.
So, I've been dealing with the 4 kids alone, through all my health things and the death of their dad. It's a tough road, but you know, you do what you have to do, I think. My two oldest kids are both very responsible adults, well adjusted, and I'm really proud of both of them. My 16 year old son is turning into a real problem, and all I can do is hope and pray he grows up soon! Then my youngest is 14, and though she can be like any other moody and emotional teen girl, she's also very loving and sympathetic towards others. One thing I've learned is that it's hard enough to go through a lot of stuff on your own, but having to guide your children through it makes things all the harder. Oh, yes. We spent some time being homeless, too. I didn't have a job, thanks to the back injuries, wasn't getting VA disability yet, wasn't getting social security, and when my husband died, well, there was no money. That was a complete shock to me, to end up in a shelter, but we did it, we stuck together, and now I own my own house and am doing well. I've also learned that if you have money, it's much easier to live life. :-)
Like Whiterabbit, I've been on pain killers for years, though I developed a severe allergy to Morphine, so I'm on other junk now. I go through periods of time where I decide to stop taking those pills, and then the pain is so bad I can hardly even get out of bed, let alone take care of anything else. If I could have anything I wanted, though, I would make it so I could head to the mall with my daughter and be able to shop with her, or even go for a walk around the block. That would be wonderful.
Cindy
