<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-600084917113948345</id><updated>2011-11-27T15:41:11.008-08:00</updated><category term='disabled'/><category term='anger'/><category term='crps'/><category term='chronic pain'/><category term='rsd'/><category term='activism'/><title type='text'>Fighting Chronic Pain</title><subtitle type='html'>A chronicle of CRPS reflected through music, hope, humor, and frustration.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/600084917113948345/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Mrs. Kelleher</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xkrKvBYEhVU/S50vgoFryCI/AAAAAAAAACs/xZlz57JclhA/S220/100_2450.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>12</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-600084917113948345.post-3403930825636140297</id><published>2010-08-31T06:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T06:03:20.544-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hold On For One More Day~ Wilson Philips</title><content type='html'>"I know that there is pain, but you hold on for one more day and you break free from the chains" ~Wilson Philips&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't been here for&amp;nbsp; while, I've been busy trying to start a small business I'm so stubborn that I refuse to be allowed to be disabled.&amp;nbsp; I'm only 35, I can sit home and do nothing, so I make myself do things. I have a great little yarn shop and the great thing about it it, I have a couch i can sit on while I wait for customers and allow myself to take the breaks and get the rest I need while still doing something to contribute to society.&amp;nbsp; If I can't make it to work that day I have two options 1) Close the shop for the day or 2) Get my Mother-in-Law or my Dad to go sit on the shop.&amp;nbsp; I thank the Goddess for my family every day to help me in my endeavor.&amp;nbsp; Most weeks&amp;nbsp;I can make the&amp;nbsp;4 of&amp;nbsp;5 days of work, but I always end up having to spend at least one whole day in bed when the week is over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Doc is talking about Ketamine Infusion, I'm hoping it gets approved and I can do it, it would be nice if it works, and gives me the normalcy that so many have had since they started having K-infusions.&amp;nbsp; I understand I would need boosters, etc. but I really think it will be helpful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pain has gotten so bad lately, that it's spread up my leg, into my back, and my left arm, the bicep is in a constant aching pain, luckily it hasn't totally effected my hand, but at night I will wake up with pain in my hand and fingers.&amp;nbsp; I need my hands to knit!&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So dear Reader,&amp;nbsp;I promise this to you, 1) to be better about posting (I won't wait 6 months to get with you)&lt;br /&gt;2) I promise to check in at least 2 times a month, and we'll cover my daily life, CRPS life on FB, and Treatments, etc. :)&amp;nbsp; Look forward to more of me....and "Hold On for One More Day!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/600084917113948345-3403930825636140297?l=fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com/feeds/3403930825636140297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com/2010/08/hold-on-for-one-more-day-wilson-philips.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/600084917113948345/posts/default/3403930825636140297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/600084917113948345/posts/default/3403930825636140297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com/2010/08/hold-on-for-one-more-day-wilson-philips.html' title='Hold On For One More Day~ Wilson Philips'/><author><name>Mrs. Kelleher</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xkrKvBYEhVU/S50vgoFryCI/AAAAAAAAACs/xZlz57JclhA/S220/100_2450.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-600084917113948345.post-5357543370302659696</id><published>2010-03-14T12:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-14T12:15:25.222-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Survivor" ~ Destiny's Child</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;"I'm a survivor, I'm not gonna give up,&amp;nbsp; I'm not gon' stop, I'm gonna work harder, I'm a survivor,&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna make it, I will survive, Keep on survivin', I'm a survivor, I'm not gonna give up,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I'm not gon' stop, I'm gonna work harder, I'm a survivor, I'm gonna make it, I will survive,&lt;br /&gt;Keep on survivin'."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sit here surrounded by sheets of paper and balls of yarn.&amp;nbsp; Scribbled algebraic symbols and problems all over different slips of paper as I try to move my way through Algebra. The mind of Mrs. Suzie Kelleher didn't understand Algebra when she was Ms. Suzie Messier and in High School trying to figure it out the first go round, she sure the heck isn't getting it was what we call "RSD Brain".&amp;nbsp; The yarns from Cascade Yarns, Manos del Uruguay, Colinette's and sample of other yarns surround me as I try to decide which yarns will going my shop for the Grand Opening, and which ones I will purchase later as begin to build my inventory for my yarn &amp;amp; bead shop.&amp;nbsp; Knitting needles and crochet hooks peek out from "TO-DO" lists and reminders of all kinds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes I have RSD, but what is it someone said "it doesn't have me".&amp;nbsp; I went down the dark horrible road of depression, where I thought I wouldn't see the day when I could play with my children, not that I'm there yet, but at one point I could hardly walk, today with my special drug cocktail my pain is lower, most days it's a steady 2-3 and when it spikes I have meds for that and I stay in bed and it goes down to where I can function again.&amp;nbsp; I haven't done Ketamine, and I'm not qualified to discuss meds with anyone, but for me, what has worked for me, is my meds, physical therapy and massage therapy.&amp;nbsp; That's right massage therapy&amp;nbsp; having someone touch my leg, making me reassociate with my limb.&amp;nbsp; It's there, it's part of me, and it hasn't made the pain go away totally, but it has become bearable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My foot is still cold, it still swells, it still turns purple, I've still gone up a shoe size, still prefer to wear loose pants because of the tightness of different fabrics on my leg makes me feel like I'm "suffocating".&amp;nbsp; I still wear thick heavy socks, I still favor my good side to my bad side, but yet, I'm able to walk better now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not cured, I'm just surviving.&amp;nbsp; Day to Day, that's all we can do when we have this horrible disease.&amp;nbsp; So I'm going to be a business owner. You're all probably thinking, "How the hell are you going to do that?" and I say to you "Family".&amp;nbsp; If I have a bad day, and I just can't get there and do it, I have family who can and will do it for me.&amp;nbsp; Their help is going to enable me to fulfill a dream, of going back to work, and being useful. I will have a purpose once again.&amp;nbsp; I will continue to survive one day at a time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/600084917113948345-5357543370302659696?l=fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com/feeds/5357543370302659696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com/2010/03/survivor-destinys-child.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/600084917113948345/posts/default/5357543370302659696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/600084917113948345/posts/default/5357543370302659696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com/2010/03/survivor-destinys-child.html' title='&quot;Survivor&quot; ~ Destiny&apos;s Child'/><author><name>Mrs. Kelleher</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xkrKvBYEhVU/S50vgoFryCI/AAAAAAAAACs/xZlz57JclhA/S220/100_2450.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-600084917113948345.post-979862372130227306</id><published>2009-10-29T17:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-29T17:28:59.228-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Ain't Nothing Gonna Slow Me Down" ~ Men At Work</title><content type='html'>The song of the night is “Ain’t Nothing Gonna Hold Me Down” by Men At Work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just got back from Dartmouth Hitchcock Medical Center in Lebanon, NH, a long trip from the Northwest parts of Vermont.  So there I was, being poked and prodded like a science experiment by yet another doctor, and was told yet again that I have Complex Regional Pain Syndrome Type I, Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Ain’t nothing gonna break my stride. Nobody’s going to slow me down, oh, no, I’ve got to keep on moving.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I learned that though I may believe that Doctor’s tossed prescriptions at me, there was in fact a reason for such behavior, and that is because the number one method to treat CRPS is with Pharmacology and physical therapy.  Trying in fact to find the perfect recipe for that patient to find their “cocktail” that will provide pain relief.  We are still searching for my “cocktail”.  And here I thought I was always a Mojito girl, turns out I could be a Bloody Mary girl or even a Martini girl.  I knew already I was a Wii girl, my body feels the pain from the Wii exercises, but my swelling goes down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Ain’t nothing gonna break my stride. Nobody’s gonna slow me down, oh no, I’ve got to keep on moving.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So  my symptoms were analyzed today, I felt very comfortable with my Doctor, don’t misconstrue that statement, I feel very comfortable with my local Doctors, but it took a bit of time to get there with some and not with others. I had an immediate sense of positive vibes from this Doctor, and an immediate sense that he knew what he was he was doing, he knew CRPS.  Thusly, I now know that I shouldn’t expect that just because I don’t have allodynia (sensitivity to touch or clothing), but I do have hyperalgesia (severe pain when only slight pain would be expected).  I have swelling, mottled skin, skin temperature change, and pretty shiny skin too.  We won’t get into the pain in moving the body part, the mood swings, and of course the sleeping issues.  I know to stick to treatment plan, I know what I have to do, and so….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Ain’t nothing gonna break my stride. Nobody’s gonna slow me down, oh no, I’ve got to keep on moving.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what's the next stepyou ask? The nex step is to stay on the Pharmacology program,and see how  respond.  Continue with my physica therapy program, continue with my craniosacal therapy, take up mirror box therapy, and let nothing break my stride or slow me down...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I got to keep on moving"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/600084917113948345-979862372130227306?l=fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com/feeds/979862372130227306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com/2009/10/aint-nothing-gonna-slow-me-down-men-at.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/600084917113948345/posts/default/979862372130227306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/600084917113948345/posts/default/979862372130227306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com/2009/10/aint-nothing-gonna-slow-me-down-men-at.html' title='&quot;Ain&apos;t Nothing Gonna Slow Me Down&quot; ~ Men At Work'/><author><name>Mrs. Kelleher</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xkrKvBYEhVU/S50vgoFryCI/AAAAAAAAACs/xZlz57JclhA/S220/100_2450.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-600084917113948345.post-4176150453876050115</id><published>2009-10-22T18:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T19:33:49.655-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Say it if it's worth saving me" ~ Nickelback</title><content type='html'>I haven't blogged in awhile, I've been working on quite a bit. I just completed a short story that was entered into a competition through Good House Keeping. &lt;br /&gt;I'm currently working on a novel with my friend Juli &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Manz&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I made my last post, much has happened, things of course are under constant change for people with &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;CRPS&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the month of September was spend in a good deal of pain, trying &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;craniosacral&lt;/span&gt; therapy to lessen it, and other holistic measures.  &lt;a href="http://www.craniosacraltherapy.org/Whatis.htm"&gt;http://www.craniosacraltherapy.org/Whatis.htm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Building up my medical team.  I'm lucky to have a great Doctor that knows what &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;RSD&lt;/span&gt; is about, and that here is no cure.  He's goo to me, and willing to try these holistic measures to see what will give me relief.  I've been doing &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;craniosacral&lt;/span&gt; for about four weeks now. I notice a difference after I get the treatment, I'm more mobile, like I am in the summer, able to move easier, keep up with my kids while walking in the grocery store.  I no longer rely on my cane, and I'm happier about that.  It's a very gentle manipulation of my limbs, even the infected one, but it's like being able to stretch it after so long. It's a tingly release that feels good, and leaves me feeling good for about 5-6 days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go to PT twice a week, for measurements of my swelling, gentle balance exercises and a gentle massage.  It helps with the swelling and keeping my foot from blowing up large and purple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The chest pains I felt after the last epidural have not eased. It's believed that  I have &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;costrochondritis&lt;/span&gt;, an apparent inflammation of the cartilage in between my ribs. Well it's going on 8 weeks with this pain, and and nothing seems to be making it better. Then three weeks ago I started to note this pain in my triceps of my left arm, and them it started to spread down the arm,down into the elbow,and into the forearm and the finger. I noticed that it was getting harder to type, to grasp thing, or hold them for a long period of time.  I called my doc, an now I have an MRI scheduled on my neck and lower back.  A possible pinched nerve, a possible &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;RSD&lt;/span&gt; spread, do we know hell no, not yet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the stuff that makes a person so frustrated, and that's when I started to think about this song by &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Nickelback&lt;/span&gt; which brings us to the title of this post...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Prison gates won't open up for me" Sometimes this disease feels like a prison. I'm trying to break out of, I know there is "no cure" and yet still I don't want to believe. I think maybe if I take more vitamin C and I do mirror box therapy I'll be cured.  I can't give up hope, it's all I have.  For me the "you" in this song that I'm reaching for, that I'm calling for is a cure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently an episode of House has both my Physical Therapist and ND have both decided that mirror therapy is the perfect cure or me so look at this &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pe8Y3YETnuY"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pe8Y3YETnuY&lt;/a&gt; from &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;youtube&lt;/span&gt;.  My 5 year old and I looked at it, and he said to me, "You're not going to fall for that are you Mom?"   I don't know if I'm going to fall for that son, but maybe my mind will.  The possibilities that are now coming at me in abundance are scary.  None of them are a get better quick scheme, 4 rounds of magnesium through an IV, 4 rounds of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ketamine&lt;/span&gt;, 12 weeks later you have the same results, or so the studies say. My ND says Magnesium, my PT says &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ketamine&lt;/span&gt;, my Doctor has yet to weigh in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The four walls I'm terrified of, are &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;permanent&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;disability&lt;/span&gt;. I'd rather collect my retirement and be able to work. I'm hoping once  I get the pain under control that I can go back to living a normal life, I know I may be hoping against hope, but again it' all I have, it's all I'm reaching for.  I want o go back to work. I want to play with my boys, and dance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I head to the neighboring state later this week to their pain clinic to find out what they can do for me, I'd to Boston or NYC if they could give me some relief an return to normalcy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm invoking my warrior spirit, and saying to Hope and Cure, "I'm calling, come please I'm calling"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/600084917113948345-4176150453876050115?l=fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com/feeds/4176150453876050115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com/2009/10/say-it-if-its-worth-saving-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/600084917113948345/posts/default/4176150453876050115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/600084917113948345/posts/default/4176150453876050115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com/2009/10/say-it-if-its-worth-saving-me.html' title='&quot;Say it if it&apos;s worth saving me&quot; ~ Nickelback'/><author><name>Mrs. Kelleher</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xkrKvBYEhVU/S50vgoFryCI/AAAAAAAAACs/xZlz57JclhA/S220/100_2450.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-600084917113948345.post-1328263144564711609</id><published>2009-08-28T18:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T19:56:03.911-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crps'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='disabled'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='activism'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chronic pain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rsd'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='anger'/><title type='text'>"You Had a Bad Day" ~ Daniel Powter</title><content type='html'>"Where is the moment we needed the most" ~ For me this &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;would&lt;/span&gt; have been an awesomely working epidural/lumbar block today that &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;actually&lt;/span&gt; took &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; pain away completely, instead of just numbed it and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;everything&lt;/span&gt; from my belly button down. It was &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; not what my PM wanted it to me, and she doubled it to get some sort of a result because I wasn't &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;responding&lt;/span&gt; for the first round....crazy maybe, but I was there anyway..so might as well try to knock it out. It so didn't knock anything out except me. Even though my legs don't work I must of kicked up the leave and lost the magic there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You stand in the line just to hit a new low, you're faking a smile with the coffee you go"&lt;br /&gt;This sounds like I need to discuss the deep depression I fell into, it's apparently part of the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;RSD&lt;/span&gt; thing, I kept meaning to call my Doc, per my sweet friends request, but I forget, because that's another wonderful about &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;RSD&lt;/span&gt;, and so I haven't done it yet, but it's in my notes of things to do, if I remember to look at them..I know &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ARGH&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Today&lt;/span&gt; in the hospital I had a nurse grab onto my feet to check my strength, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;problem&lt;/span&gt; is I may not have extreme &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;allodynia&lt;/span&gt; but still you don't grab the foot of someone who has RSD, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; I told her, and she seemed to not really know what the hell it was. I was too exhausted to explain. I did ask her to be very careful with my left limb, that it hurt with not even much pressure. Then there &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;was&lt;/span&gt; all the whispering about &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;RSD&lt;/span&gt;, the Nurses asking me what my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;epidural&lt;/span&gt; was suppose to do for &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;RSD&lt;/span&gt;. I wish that there would be more &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_17" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;training&lt;/span&gt; for health care professionals in this area...."So you had a bad day...."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever notice the chorus of this song makes it seems like the guys telling her, "Yeah what ever you had a bad day, suck it up, I don't want listen to you carry on about it" I feel like thing&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_18" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;s are&lt;/span&gt; like that in my house at times. Not all the time,don't get me wrong, I &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_19" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;know my hubs&lt;/span&gt; loves me, totally loves me, I just don't think he understands what I'm going &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_20" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;through&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_21" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;comparatively&lt;/span&gt; to his back and neck pain with his &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_22" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;damaged&lt;/span&gt; discs he figures if he can cope I should be able to cope to, maybe he doesn't feel that way really, maybe I &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_23" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;just think&lt;/span&gt; he feels that way, often times we don't really talk &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_24" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;about how&lt;/span&gt; he feels, We seem to rely to heavily on my empathetic abilities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure what a blue sky holiday is, but as long as it &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_25" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;doesn't&lt;/span&gt; belong having to make a decision between a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_26" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;sympathectomy&lt;/span&gt; and a Spinal Cord Stimulator, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_27" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;yay&lt;/span&gt;, I don't want that so much. It seems like there's n good choices &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_28" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;for&lt;/span&gt; this rotten disease. My head is spinning...&lt;br /&gt;Neurological Associations Four F's Diet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_29" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Chiropractic&lt;/span&gt; or Acupuncture&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_30" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Lidocain&lt;/span&gt; Infusion&lt;br /&gt;Topical &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_31" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Capsaicin&lt;/span&gt; or &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_32" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Fentanyl&lt;/span&gt; Patches&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_33" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Hyperbaric&lt;/span&gt; Oxygen Chambers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_34" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ketamine&lt;/span&gt; Infusions&lt;br /&gt;really the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_35" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;SCS&lt;/span&gt; and the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_36" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Sympatheticomy&lt;/span&gt; is my last choice.....&lt;br /&gt;My Aunt has an &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_37" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;SCS&lt;/span&gt; for her arm &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_38" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;RSD&lt;/span&gt;, it doesn't help her, it has a 50-70% chance of a better quality of life. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_39" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Sympatheticomy&lt;/span&gt; has a 30-40% chance of working...I don't know it scares me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I had a bad day..I can't work up a smile..I'm not allowed to go for a drive unless it's only 30 minutes and with this latest med, I really just can't...and so...where is the magic when I need it the most?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_40" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;RSD&lt;/span&gt;. I hate what it has taken from me (My job, My ability to play with my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_41" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;beys&lt;/span&gt;, over 20 pairs of cute shoes, the ability to be the Dancing Queen, the ability to wear a pair of jeans, running, walking, a foot that's not so cold and is a normal size and color...the list goes on)&lt;br /&gt;I hate that makes me rely on my 7 year old son to take &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_42" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Care&lt;/span&gt; of me, bring me sweet tea and medicines, sometimes even feminine products...&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_43" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ARGH&lt;/span&gt;! It's &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_44" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;embarrassing&lt;/span&gt;, but I say Thanks you, I'm trying not to be &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_45" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;just&lt;/span&gt; the giver, it may be that I have this to force me to learn the lesson of being a taker...I'm a horrible taker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I had back to PM on 9 September for the final round of lumbar blocks...and then referral to Dartmouth &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_46" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Hitchcock&lt;/span&gt; Medical Center in New Hampshire...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I continue to suffer the set backs of this &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_47" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;horrible&lt;/span&gt; disease that was proven to me that the Medical Community needs to learn more about....I'm printing &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_48" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;flyer's&lt;/span&gt; to take with me next time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/600084917113948345-1328263144564711609?l=fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com/feeds/1328263144564711609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com/2009/08/you-had-bad-day.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/600084917113948345/posts/default/1328263144564711609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/600084917113948345/posts/default/1328263144564711609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com/2009/08/you-had-bad-day.html' title='&quot;You Had a Bad Day&quot; ~ Daniel Powter'/><author><name>Mrs. Kelleher</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xkrKvBYEhVU/S50vgoFryCI/AAAAAAAAACs/xZlz57JclhA/S220/100_2450.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-600084917113948345.post-1920689230168832486</id><published>2009-08-17T21:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T19:56:59.514-07:00</updated><title type='text'>'Hello Darkness My Old Friend" ~ Simon &amp; Garfunkel</title><content type='html'>Depression. Apparently this disease not only robs you of your limbs, and abilities but comes in and steals your &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;joie&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;de&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;vivre&lt;/span&gt;, joy of everything, joy of life. I find myself sinking in the deep darkness of depression, I've been here before I know what it looks like, but this time it is because I fail to have a purpose, a reason to leave the rack in the morning. I have &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;los&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;t my&lt;/span&gt; joy of living. How joyful can living be when your limb ache from your toes to your hip. How joyful is it to put on the mask to pretend to be happy.&lt;br /&gt;Is it wrong to want people to tell you that you look better, so &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;you&lt;/span&gt; can make yourself believe that you are getting better, when you won't no&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;t really&lt;/span&gt; because there is no cure for your illness, your sickness, your disease....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I push everyone away, cloister into my house, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;cocoon&lt;/span&gt; myself in, and I will &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;emerge&lt;/span&gt; the beautiful butterfly eventually, the happy go lucky girl I am &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;suppose&lt;/span&gt; to be, expected to, the one that stick s with it, and doesn't let anything get her down...but she must wait, it's not her turn yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still struggle to understand what this disease means to the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;rest&lt;/span&gt; of my life.....I'm trying to deal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/600084917113948345-1920689230168832486?l=fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com/feeds/1920689230168832486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com/2009/08/hello-darkness-my-old-friend.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/600084917113948345/posts/default/1920689230168832486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/600084917113948345/posts/default/1920689230168832486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com/2009/08/hello-darkness-my-old-friend.html' title='&apos;Hello Darkness My Old Friend&quot; ~ Simon &amp; Garfunkel'/><author><name>Mrs. Kelleher</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xkrKvBYEhVU/S50vgoFryCI/AAAAAAAAACs/xZlz57JclhA/S220/100_2450.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-600084917113948345.post-7254793445748336355</id><published>2009-07-30T21:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T22:00:58.443-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A month goes by....</title><content type='html'>And here we are July almost in the record books, and still I cope with the changes of my life.  While things improve, things stay the same and things become less &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;bearable&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Five months of having a disease with a name, less then that since Worker's Compensation agreed I have the disease, but the beautiful thing is they agree, and therefore we move on.  I am able to move around most days with out my cane, but my foots swells so, I'm able to wear little else but flip flops. I am proud to say that my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;stubbornness&lt;/span&gt; keeps me &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;mobile&lt;/span&gt;. Funny how my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;stubbornness&lt;/span&gt; and vanity is a good thing when it comes to Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I often think even if no one reads this, it doesn't matter because it's therapeutic for me to put this out here.  I have new medication that is &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;slowly&lt;/span&gt; allowing me to attempt to reclaim my lost half a life...however, it gives me a false sense of wellness that I pay for at a later date.  I am able to function at a higher degree then I was, i.e. I am not lethargic and catatonic on the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;living room&lt;/span&gt; couch anymore.  I am able to get out to my therapy and doctor appointments and on good days accomplish a few errands before my body tells me enough is enough.  My knee is giving out less and less, as my foot swells more and more, give a little to get a little.  As I said things improve, get worse and remain the same. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;thought&lt;/span&gt; not working would affect me as much as it does, I have grown depressed from the inability to work, and I wonder when I may be able to return to the workforce, but know in heart of hearts that I would now become that employee that calls in sick frequently, only because my disease is so unpredictable from one day to the other, one minute from the other, one activity to the other.   How &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;pitiful&lt;/span&gt; it is to go from the "Go To It Girl" to having to force myself to leave my bed in the morning in fear that if I don't it may not get another chance to leave it at all.  Maybe I should call this one "Don't Cry For Me Argentina"... or "Poor, Poor &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Pitiful&lt;/span&gt; Me".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Alas&lt;/span&gt;, there you have it, I have done &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;a lot&lt;/span&gt; this month, and paid for every single bit of physically.  How when we are healthy we take for granted going on a family vacation. I can't survive for 30 minutes in a vehicle without pain, let alone the four hour stretches we took on our travels with our &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;boyos&lt;/span&gt; this July. We did manage a vacation that was &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;full&lt;/span&gt; of memories for our boys, but I paid for it, with a long recoup period, and frequent use of my TENS unit and pain medications got me through the trip.  That will be the last road trip for this family.  I couldn't even share the driving with my husband because I can not drive more then a half hour a day.  Driving restrictions are tough, and even worse is trying to drive at night when you have become out of practice.  Roads can become a scary place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there we are...another day/week/month in the life of me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/600084917113948345-7254793445748336355?l=fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com/feeds/7254793445748336355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com/2009/07/month-goes-by.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/600084917113948345/posts/default/7254793445748336355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/600084917113948345/posts/default/7254793445748336355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com/2009/07/month-goes-by.html' title='A month goes by....'/><author><name>Mrs. Kelleher</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xkrKvBYEhVU/S50vgoFryCI/AAAAAAAAACs/xZlz57JclhA/S220/100_2450.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-600084917113948345.post-5548048805842577439</id><published>2009-06-16T16:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T20:01:40.515-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chronic pain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rsd'/><title type='text'>"Don't wait for answers, Just take your chances, Don't ask me why" ~ Billy Joel</title><content type='html'>The last two weeks have been uneventful, yet not all at the same time. I'm not sure how that's possible, but let me explain so it makes sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband took me to a Rock Concert, it was awesome, however, my foot flared up from a very short walk and a couple of stairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying to adjust to life a disabled person, physical therapy is at a stand still, I've had to go back onto my crutches, noted an increased &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;inability&lt;/span&gt; to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;maneuver&lt;/span&gt; on my left limb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cried when I went to price out the rental on a wheel chair to go on vacation with my family. I realized that I am disabled, differently &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;abled&lt;/span&gt;, special..etc. but do not like it, because I feel I am admitting to myself that I will never again run. I have for the past few months held tightly to the hope that if I have my lumbar blocks that I would return to the pain free mobile woman that I use to be. Now I have to figure that I am not, and won't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying to adjust to this, figure out what makes me flare up and what doesn't, but it's never the same. The inability to walk heel to toe, and well..it's kind of crazy what can happen to a person with &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;RSD&lt;/span&gt; in 14 days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With my husband to help me with groceries, I realized that if it wasn't for PT appointments I would not have to leave my house, and that's scary thought. How easy it is for a person to become a shut in, and look forward to the visits from the Jehovah's &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Witnesses&lt;/span&gt; and who all else comes door to door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been having conversions with God, asking for signs and receiving them. I've been reading, lots of reading, and wondering..exploring &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;possibilities&lt;/span&gt; and ideas for the rest of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've considered taking up sewing, as that I find it hard to find clothes I like and don't want to wear &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;pj&lt;/span&gt; pants all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I feel I am without a purpose, though I have three sons, without a job to get up for every morning, and some place to be, I wonder sometimes why I get up in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I take it day by day and sometimes hour by hour, but sometimes that can be a hard thing to do. I try to do something normal, like go to a concert, and I spend the next day in bed. I try to go on a field trip with one of my boys and spend the next day unable to put weight on my foot or get out of bed. Violently sick, trying to figure out how I'm going to get to the bathroom to vomit without putting weight on my foot to get there. So it's hard to tell what's going to happen. Like I've said before, when I try to be normal, try to do normal things, I always pay for it with horrible pain afterwards, and it's not fair. It's the burden I've been given but I don't have to like it, I &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;just&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;have&lt;/span&gt; to figure out a way to deal with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, as I'm dealing with it, I'm know that I'm too stubborn to ask for help &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;some days&lt;/span&gt;, and sometimes I wonder why more people don't ask to help, though I'm not sure if I would take them up on the offer...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There it is two weeks in the life of a person with &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;RSD&lt;/span&gt;....trying to deal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/600084917113948345-5548048805842577439?l=fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com/feeds/5548048805842577439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com/2009/06/dont-wait-for-answers-just-take-your.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/600084917113948345/posts/default/5548048805842577439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/600084917113948345/posts/default/5548048805842577439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com/2009/06/dont-wait-for-answers-just-take-your.html' title='&quot;Don&apos;t wait for answers, Just take your chances, Don&apos;t ask me why&quot; ~ Billy Joel'/><author><name>Mrs. Kelleher</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xkrKvBYEhVU/S50vgoFryCI/AAAAAAAAACs/xZlz57JclhA/S220/100_2450.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-600084917113948345.post-4557950836134402294</id><published>2009-06-01T16:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T16:53:24.803-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crps'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chronic pain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rsd'/><title type='text'>Red Tape &amp; The Unwelcomed</title><content type='html'>Red Tape....the request for services going to Kentucky to go to Boston to approve...Why is there always a middle man? Shouldn't we streamline, our tax dollars at works...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why I wait for my Doctor to submit a claim for my Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy or &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Complex&lt;/span&gt; Regional Pain Syndrome with the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;appropriate&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ICND&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; 9 Code, on the proper form and fax it to the proper office, so I can get my MRI done on my leg to figure out how much of it actually affected by the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;RSD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, the pain is no longer localized to the knee to toe that I was first diagnosed with...OH no!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let us stall, and wait "no more lumbar blocks for you", for the First one, my Pain Management (PM) Specialist was on &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; phone screaming and threatening to report them to someone somewhere for something bad...I'm not sure, but she got the first one to be approved. When it didn't take, when it didn't do what she wanted it to, she came up with a new plan of attack.  We were going at it more &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;aggressively&lt;/span&gt; to confuse my system, to allow my central nervous &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;system&lt;/span&gt; (CNS) to remind my brain what it &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;was like&lt;/span&gt; to be pain free, we were going to double tap it (two days of lumbar blocks back to back) and wait a week and double tap it again... so while we wait for the first one to happen, while we wait for the next round to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;occur&lt;/span&gt; the pain is spreading up my thigh into my lower back, and the pain knows no end. I haven't seen my PM in month, I'm living on &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Neurontin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Amitriptyline&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Tramadol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.   And while I don't want to get into my "drug habit" so to speak, you must understand, because it speaks volumes of how the body adapts to the medications and they no longer become effective.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Neurontin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; makes me what I've come to affectionately call a "Loop Head", my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Amitriptyline&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; reads "Take 1 or 2 Tablets at bedtime as needed for Insomnia/Pain" at first one would be enough to knock me out, and I was finally able to sleep. Unfortunately, 1 would not be enough into the second week of pain and not being to sleep without it, and believe me I tried, so I went up to the authorized 2 but it stopped working too, and so I'd take some T&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ramadol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and try to go back to sleep. Now, it's sad to say but neither the Tramadol or the Amitriptyline help with the insomnia or the pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not a drug seeker, let's get that straight away, I have three boys, and do not want to spend my days high on narcotics so I miss their daily lives. I only take my medications at bedtime, to sleep, because I need it to function as a parent. So know I'm juggling pain, a pain greater then child birth, with no assistance, and no cure in sight, trying to be the best mom that I can be, and my one glimmer of hope that I have, that I'm trying to hold on to is being bogged down by red tape, and I'm getting the "&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Unwelcomed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;" spreading of this monster up into my back!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/600084917113948345-4557950836134402294?l=fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com/feeds/4557950836134402294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com/2009/06/red-tape-unwelcomed.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/600084917113948345/posts/default/4557950836134402294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/600084917113948345/posts/default/4557950836134402294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com/2009/06/red-tape-unwelcomed.html' title='Red Tape &amp; The Unwelcomed'/><author><name>Mrs. Kelleher</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xkrKvBYEhVU/S50vgoFryCI/AAAAAAAAACs/xZlz57JclhA/S220/100_2450.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-600084917113948345.post-6152521882251454392</id><published>2009-05-30T18:35:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-30T18:38:58.319-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crps'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='disabled'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chronic pain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rsd'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='anger'/><title type='text'>Am I Admitting Defeat?</title><content type='html'>Disabled...&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure if I'm angry at the word or what images it invokes for me. I have spent 2 months fighting this word. And then yesterday, the thread that I was hanging by the keep me from admitting my defeat, admitting that I am disabled, broke and I cried. Tears rolling down my face as I told my wonderful husband that I can no longer do it all, I am no longer Super Woman, and my kryptonite is RSD.&lt;br /&gt;I always thought that if I got everything right I would be able to return to normal, to the person I was before this diagnosis. I was injured in August 2008, and I clung to the hope that I would get fixed and get better. I now know that I will not, and it's painful to say that, because RSD will not allow me to get better. I'm always going to have balance my activities so as to not cause a flare up, nurse myself, be gentle with myself. It frustrates me, and insults me at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;As I journey through this new half of my life, I need to tell you the small changes that come. First it's noticing that you can't wear just any shoe, because you're foot swells as you walk on it, and if there isn't any room in the shoe then it rubs causing blisters and ulcers on the foot. The next thing I noted is that I couldn't just wear anything, jeans felt so heavy on me. It's not an every day thing, on good days I can still wear jeans, but on bad days it's just too painful. So I adjusted, buying sweat pants, lounge pants and other light cotton pants that wouldn't rub and cause pain. Then it's not being to walk for a long time, frequent breaks are required, my cane is needed, and finally I admitted I need a wheelchair to really be able to get out and do things.&lt;br /&gt;Most of the time I'm house bound, I can't drive more then 15 minutes without pain. Luckily I drive an automatic, because I wouldn't be able to work a clutch. My left foot is constantly in pain, it can vary from a numbing burning pain to a sharp stabbing pain. The RSD has spread from my toes and knees up to my hip. I can barely lay on my left side on a good day, and forget about a bad day. On a good day I can be seen walking to and from my son's school with out my cane as I pick him up from Kindergarten. I can not walk the less then ½ a mile from our house to school though, because that would cause a serious flare up and turn a good day into a bad day.&lt;br /&gt;Here I am again waffling into acceptance.... I'm disabled, but I don't want to be disabled. Who wants to be right. My wonderful group of sisters I have found through facebook tell me I am “re-abled” or “differently abled”, but I still found myself labeling myself as disabled, because I can't do what I use to do, and I can't be who I use to be. I am feeling like saying I am disabled is admitting defeat.&lt;br /&gt;Some days I feel defeated.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/600084917113948345-6152521882251454392?l=fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com/feeds/6152521882251454392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com/2009/05/am-i-admitting-defeat.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/600084917113948345/posts/default/6152521882251454392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/600084917113948345/posts/default/6152521882251454392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com/2009/05/am-i-admitting-defeat.html' title='Am I Admitting Defeat?'/><author><name>Mrs. Kelleher</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xkrKvBYEhVU/S50vgoFryCI/AAAAAAAAACs/xZlz57JclhA/S220/100_2450.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-600084917113948345.post-4777760445283393439</id><published>2009-05-29T11:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T11:37:08.989-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chronic pain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rsd'/><title type='text'>Hoping &amp; Coping with RSD</title><content type='html'>Coping &amp;amp; Hoping...hmm.. that's where we are at today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I'm in mourning, kind of like the way I felt when I lost my Gramp so many years ago. So I look at The Five Stages of Grief. Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and Acceptance.&lt;br /&gt;As my Therapist told me, I was mourning my former life, the loss of my normalcy, the loss of my job, the loss of being in control. I know she's right, I know this what I feel, the loss of being able to move. It's as simple as that. The freedom to move my body and not have pain. I can not walk heel to toe on my left foot, I have extreme sharp and stabbing pain every time I move. When I'm sitting I have an achy pain that goes from my hip to my toes. The burning pain like having your foot too close to the fire or even on fire that licks up my foot into my shin and calf slowly up to my knee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The McGill Pain Scale goes from 1-50, RSD sits at about 42, amputation of a digit is 40, child birth is a 32. There are some days when I feel like I can manage the pain, those are the days I tell everyone I'm doing okay, and I hear things like “You look good” or “Glad to see your better”, but that's when I start to get depressed, because I know I'm not going to “get better” there is no cure, I'm going to get where I can manage this monster, where I can figure out what works for me, and only me, because that's how this disease works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coping also includes how the bills get paid, and this causes the stress level to go up add that to the burning stabbing pain I'm feeling and there are days I don't want to crawl out of bed, everyday I do though, even if it's just to move to the couch where I sit most of the day and feel pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feeling useless, broken and hurting. I don't know if that makes sense, but that's how the days are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't go through denial, I was glad to know that what I had, what I was feeling had a name. I am angry, I don't bargain, but I feel some serious depression, and I waffle into acceptance at times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now all I have is hope, hoping that I can manage this pain, this monster of a disease...Hoping &amp;amp; Coping makes up my day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/600084917113948345-4777760445283393439?l=fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com/feeds/4777760445283393439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com/2009/05/hoping-coping-with-rsd.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/600084917113948345/posts/default/4777760445283393439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/600084917113948345/posts/default/4777760445283393439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com/2009/05/hoping-coping-with-rsd.html' title='Hoping &amp; Coping with RSD'/><author><name>Mrs. Kelleher</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xkrKvBYEhVU/S50vgoFryCI/AAAAAAAAACs/xZlz57JclhA/S220/100_2450.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-600084917113948345.post-1296209104791295185</id><published>2009-05-28T23:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T20:06:02.244-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crps'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chronic pain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rsd'/><title type='text'>"The Day The Music Died...." ~ Don McLean</title><content type='html'>I wasn't driving my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Chevy&lt;/span&gt; to the levy, but it was like a life altering moment.&lt;br /&gt;The day my Doctor told me I had &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;RSD&lt;/span&gt;, I didn't even know what it was. I had never heard of it, and yet that acronym would have such an impact on my life..one I'm still trying to figure out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Complex Regional Pain Syndrome (&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;CRPS&lt;/span&gt;) or Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy (&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;RSD&lt;/span&gt;) the two are interchangeable, they are the same disease. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;RSD&lt;/span&gt; became &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;CRPS&lt;/span&gt;, it's such a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;squirrelly&lt;/span&gt; disease, had to pin down. The effects I have can be totally different from another person suffering the disease, but we all, as I have some to realize have one thing in common, the constant chronic pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;RSD&lt;/span&gt; can be caused from something as simple as a bump, a fall, it doesn't take much, but once you have it, it alters your &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;existence&lt;/span&gt;. I started this journey with a dislocated knee, and a surgery to clean up scar tissue that had formed around my knee. My hopes were to get my knee back to 100%, return to work &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;full time&lt;/span&gt;, and be able to run, hike, bike, play with my kids, get dressed with out the pain. The day I found out I had &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;RSD&lt;/span&gt; that dream slowly began to fall apart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First came the realization that my knee was as good as it was going to get. I &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;would&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;have&lt;/span&gt; to figure out how to do the things I wanted to do with it as it, that is if I could get past the pain I felt to do those things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Secondly, my dream of returning to work crashed down when I was placed on long term disability and had to "mourn" the loss of my job&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't just mourning the loss of my job, I was mourning the loss of my lovely normal life. I shouldn't miss it though, it had already been eight months since I had been "normal", but I was mourning the dream of returning to normalcy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was given medication, and no hope for a cure. A hope of remission if..and a hope for some sort of maybe a kind of normal, but nobody could tell me what that normal would be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's possibly the hardest thing about &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;RSD&lt;/span&gt;, it's day by day, hour by hour, moment to moment. I may feel good enough to walk without my cane, but then I may need a wheel chair. I might try to walk the mall for a few hours, and the next day not be able to leave my bed. Sleep like the dead for a day and a half and not sleep at all for two... I never know, I can't make plans except to go to the Doctors and physical therapy. The constants in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I rail at myself for being broken, and I feel broken physically, mentally, and emotionally, as I try to live with chronic pain...&lt;br /&gt;Day number~ 61 days since diagnosed&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/600084917113948345-1296209104791295185?l=fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com/feeds/1296209104791295185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com/2009/05/day-music-died.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/600084917113948345/posts/default/1296209104791295185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/600084917113948345/posts/default/1296209104791295185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fightingchronicpain.blogspot.com/2009/05/day-music-died.html' title='&quot;The Day The Music Died....&quot; ~ Don McLean'/><author><name>Mrs. Kelleher</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xkrKvBYEhVU/S50vgoFryCI/AAAAAAAAACs/xZlz57JclhA/S220/100_2450.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
