For those of you that haven't been subjected to my incessant and continuous whining about how pitiful I am :P I don't talk about my disability that often. Not because I'm ashamed of it, or trying to hide it. But just because it's simply a fact of life that can't be changed, and I see no point in using it as a crutch or excuse. I don't mind talking about it or answering any questions about it. It is what it is. *shrug* Anyway, I just thought I'd make a list of some facts, for the curious.
FACT - In 2002, I had surgery to remove a benign tumor located between my brain and the brain stem. You can read more about that here, but basically, I'd been having a lot of little things going wrong, and when they did a CAT scan, they found a tumorous mass of blood vessels that had started to bleed out into the brain, causing nerve damage that was, in short, causing a series of mini-strokes.
FACT - The surgery itself was rushed (as in they found the mass on a Thursday, put me in the hospital on Friday, and did the surgery the following Tuesday). And the reason for this is really quite simple. If they hadn't done the surgery when they did, there was a very HIGH risk that the tumor could have ruptured and I could have bled to death, at the very least.
FACT - Not only was the tumor itself potentially lethal, but the surgery was, as well. Of course, the doctors reassured me that it would be fine, but afterward, they admitted that they didn't really know if I would remember anything at all when I came out of it, or even IF I would make it through the surgery.
FACT - The surgery, itself, caused damage to the nerves in my brain. Which is to be expected, really. Any time you mess around in the brain, there is that risk.
FACT - After I came out of the surgery, it showed up that I had had a major stroke. They are unable to determine how much was caused by the tumor and how much by the surgery. But either way, I was bedridden for almost two months, which was followed by a year of physical therapy involving retraining my body to walk and obey my commands.
FACT - To this day, and for the rest of my life, I will have to live with the lingering after-effects of this. Which include, but are not limited to....
- Constant pain 24/7 on the side of my body affected by the stroke. As in, to the point that most days, even getting out of bed is a chore, and even strong pain meds only take the edge off of it and bring it down to a "tolerable" level. Which I refuse to take because they make me groggy, so I just take ibuprofen, grit my teeth, and bear it, and get out of bed anyway and go on with what I have to do.
- I will never be able to walk again without the aid of a cane at the very least. This is because of the nerve damage. My left leg refuses to bend and respond properly, which throws my gait off, making me unsteady on my feet and throwing off my balance.
- I have little control over my left arm and hand. I can hold things, yes, but I don't have a strong grip, and even holding an empty glass causes my entire arm to shake so badly that if there were anything in the glass, it would spill everywhere. I am unable to really control the grip in that hand, to the point that I can't even throw or catch anything with that hand at all.
- My back hurts constantly. They think this is from the nerve damage, too, because even standing up, standing still for more than 5-10 minutes at a time causes severe back spasms,
- I will forever have to wear incontinence pads because of the nerve damage. [/TMI]
- Even now, I still have pain on an almost daily basis, sometimes worse than others, in my neck where they did the surgery. This is from both the nerve damage, and from the muscle damage from the surgery itself. That will never completely go away either.
- Because of the nerve damage, the muscles in my chest have weakened, meaning that it takes very little exertion for me to completely lose my breath.
FACT - These things are permanent. They aren't going to get any better. That's why they released me from physical therapy after a year. They'd done all that they could.
FACT - I am forbidden by my doctors to drive, for obvious safety risks due to my disabilities.
FACT - My doctors have put me on FULL disability, meaning that I am physically INCAPABLE of performing any job outside of the home. Which also means, under disability guidelines, even if I get a job at home online or whatever, I can't bring make over a set amount, or the disability income stops.
And yet, despite these things, I am up at 6:30 every morning to get my daughter off to school. I make sure that she has food to eat, even if that means dealing with a backache for hours afterward, or that on the bad days, she has to fix herself some ramen or Chef Boyardee. I keep her clothes washed, even if that means that I have to sit in a chair in front of the dryer to fold them when they're done. She has clean dishes to eat out of, even if that means dealing with a backache from standing and washing them. I pick up after her, even if it may take me a while to get it done because I have to stop every few minutes to rest my back or catch my breath. If necessary, I walk to the grocery store (never alone, though, just in case) to make sure that my daughter has the food that she needs. I put on a happy face, and deal with all of this stuff for her sake. Because I have to. I have no choice. And despite my disabilities, I am still alive, and not being so was a very REAL possibility. For that, I am thankful every day that I wake up in pain, because at least I DO wake up.
FACT - In 2002, I had surgery to remove a benign tumor located between my brain and the brain stem. You can read more about that here, but basically, I'd been having a lot of little things going wrong, and when they did a CAT scan, they found a tumorous mass of blood vessels that had started to bleed out into the brain, causing nerve damage that was, in short, causing a series of mini-strokes.
FACT - The surgery itself was rushed (as in they found the mass on a Thursday, put me in the hospital on Friday, and did the surgery the following Tuesday). And the reason for this is really quite simple. If they hadn't done the surgery when they did, there was a very HIGH risk that the tumor could have ruptured and I could have bled to death, at the very least.
FACT - Not only was the tumor itself potentially lethal, but the surgery was, as well. Of course, the doctors reassured me that it would be fine, but afterward, they admitted that they didn't really know if I would remember anything at all when I came out of it, or even IF I would make it through the surgery.
FACT - The surgery, itself, caused damage to the nerves in my brain. Which is to be expected, really. Any time you mess around in the brain, there is that risk.
FACT - After I came out of the surgery, it showed up that I had had a major stroke. They are unable to determine how much was caused by the tumor and how much by the surgery. But either way, I was bedridden for almost two months, which was followed by a year of physical therapy involving retraining my body to walk and obey my commands.
FACT - To this day, and for the rest of my life, I will have to live with the lingering after-effects of this. Which include, but are not limited to....
- Constant pain 24/7 on the side of my body affected by the stroke. As in, to the point that most days, even getting out of bed is a chore, and even strong pain meds only take the edge off of it and bring it down to a "tolerable" level. Which I refuse to take because they make me groggy, so I just take ibuprofen, grit my teeth, and bear it, and get out of bed anyway and go on with what I have to do.
- I will never be able to walk again without the aid of a cane at the very least. This is because of the nerve damage. My left leg refuses to bend and respond properly, which throws my gait off, making me unsteady on my feet and throwing off my balance.
- I have little control over my left arm and hand. I can hold things, yes, but I don't have a strong grip, and even holding an empty glass causes my entire arm to shake so badly that if there were anything in the glass, it would spill everywhere. I am unable to really control the grip in that hand, to the point that I can't even throw or catch anything with that hand at all.
- My back hurts constantly. They think this is from the nerve damage, too, because even standing up, standing still for more than 5-10 minutes at a time causes severe back spasms,
- I will forever have to wear incontinence pads because of the nerve damage. [/TMI]
- Even now, I still have pain on an almost daily basis, sometimes worse than others, in my neck where they did the surgery. This is from both the nerve damage, and from the muscle damage from the surgery itself. That will never completely go away either.
- Because of the nerve damage, the muscles in my chest have weakened, meaning that it takes very little exertion for me to completely lose my breath.
FACT - These things are permanent. They aren't going to get any better. That's why they released me from physical therapy after a year. They'd done all that they could.
FACT - I am forbidden by my doctors to drive, for obvious safety risks due to my disabilities.
FACT - My doctors have put me on FULL disability, meaning that I am physically INCAPABLE of performing any job outside of the home. Which also means, under disability guidelines, even if I get a job at home online or whatever, I can't bring make over a set amount, or the disability income stops.
And yet, despite these things, I am up at 6:30 every morning to get my daughter off to school. I make sure that she has food to eat, even if that means dealing with a backache for hours afterward, or that on the bad days, she has to fix herself some ramen or Chef Boyardee. I keep her clothes washed, even if that means that I have to sit in a chair in front of the dryer to fold them when they're done. She has clean dishes to eat out of, even if that means dealing with a backache from standing and washing them. I pick up after her, even if it may take me a while to get it done because I have to stop every few minutes to rest my back or catch my breath. If necessary, I walk to the grocery store (never alone, though, just in case) to make sure that my daughter has the food that she needs. I put on a happy face, and deal with all of this stuff for her sake. Because I have to. I have no choice. And despite my disabilities, I am still alive, and not being so was a very REAL possibility. For that, I am thankful every day that I wake up in pain, because at least I DO wake up.
23 songbirds | Sing with me