With Chronic Pain there is never a day or even a minute when you're not in pain. You have less pain, average pain, a little above the average pain, the harsh pain, the hold me pain, and then the "I'm Fucked" level. Those are the levels but there is no such thing as "no pain". Stress drives the pain levels up, focusing your mind on something else drives the pain down, but it's always there. From a dull ache to a full fledge spasms, Charlie horses, and searing fire crawling up my leg. I've only cried once but that was six years ago as I watched everything I built get torn apart.
Three months ago I decided to try and rebuild my life. I tried to push the pain back. I thought I could be a normal guy. I called old friends, setup contacts, and began to redo an old project that I had failed at eight years ago to get started. With me not working I was able to give all the minute details there proper attention and before I knew it I was in operation. There was just one thing I really didn't think about and that was me going down.
With Chronic Pain there is a second part beyond just the pain. It's how the pain also changes your body. Chronic Pain wears at your energy, your health, and your ability to live little bit by little bit. I've gotten good at recognizing the signs. I'll wake up and I'll be moving more sluggish, the pain is a tad higher than the norm, it takes me longer to get dress. Things that excite me no longer do. Things that normally wouldn't bug me now begin to piss me off. It's little but each day this gets worse and worse. It's a spiral. I call it going down. When I hit bottom the pain has now took over my entire body. The Right shoulder aches and swells up. My back has spasms you can see. My left foot has turned towards my right in almost a hook. Everywhere the pins and needles that you feel when your foot falls asleep is tearing across my body. I can't eat except for tiny bits because anything more will have me blowing up chunks. I have fully crashed and only time, rest, and relaxation is the cure.
Except, I found a secret. I'm pushing boundaries. I no longer can afford to be sick for weeks on end. So, I created a cocktail. A number of different pills and a shot of harsh whiskey and I'm floating away. My wife says I'm like in a Coma. She can turn me, roll me, slap me, etc. but I'm no longer in pain. When I finally do wake up I'm at the beginning completely energized. I can function again. I don't need as many pills and it will be at least a month before I'll start going down. I'm functioning and I feel like I'm back. I can't be sick anymore. To many people counting on me not to be. Plus this is my dream. My last big hurah.
I don't tell my wife about the guy who shows up in my dreams when I'm pushing the Boundaries. How we have talked in this dream like coma of mine. He's bald with a tattoo on the side and I feel pretty nice being by his side. We talk about this life of mine and parts begin to play out in front of us. Sometimes it's my kids playing ball in our front yard or the time I was flying through the air in a 1989 Cavalier. We always end up back at the Catina, with a light breeze, a perfectly kept grass, two pillars behind us like in ancient Athens, and the sea is a few hundred feet away. He's always dressed in all white with his white cuban style hate. He asks if I'm ready yet and I shrug my shoulders looking down on my kids playing in the grass. Then he walks off to the left into a white light and I end up waking up in my bed feeling better than I have in a long time.
I think sometimes that I should stop pushing Boundaries but then the pain picks back up. I look at my last hurah, this last part of my dream, and I want to live... Living sometimes means you Push Boundaries and I'm not ready to quit yet.