What Fresh Hell is This?

I may have mentioned a time or elebenty hunnert that I live with an enormous amount of daily physical pain.

I’m beginning to think I may actually be a reincarnation of the goddess Odyne. Which reminds me, why can’t I be like Athena or even Artemis?  I’d like to be able to say I possess badassery or indescribable beauty because I’m a descendant of the goddesses of both, but nooooooooooooooo I have to be Odyne, the goddess of pain.  Oh well, at least I’m a goddess, even if I don’t rate more than a mere mention in mythology and lack a Wiki page of my own.

Is there a goddess of sleight?  Because I’m pretty sure Odyne has a valid grievance here, and I’d like to talk to someone about that.

And, I have gotten waaaaaaaaaaaaaaay off track.

See, that’s what pain will do to your brain.

So, the sources of my pain are numerous and boring – eight ruptured discs, spinal stenosis, fibromyalgia, arthritis, blah, blah, blah…

Most of the time a liberal application of heat, and the liberal downing of pain medications I take, keep me upright, mobile, and not feeling all stabbity to the world.

This week, though, it’s been different.  And by “different” I don’t mean ‘oh joy and happiness, I don’t feel like I’ve been run over by a truck!’  I mean it’s been ‘holyfeckballsoffirebreathingdragons, what.the.feck. is going on?’

My sciatic nerve, heretofore a quiet little dude that I gave nary a thought to, is pissed.

Royally, royally, pissed.

He’s decided to show me how pissed he is by setting my right leg on fire, while simultaneously stabbing me from ass to heel with a hot poker.

This is going on all. the. time.

It’s actually a breathtaking kind of pain.  As in, I gasp with each wave of pain, am nauseated most of the time from it, and cannot focus on what anyone is saying to me until the wave subsides and I wait anxiously for the next.

Even upping the pain meds is not dulling it much.  And they are strong motherfeckers, let me tell you.   Sciatic-Bob (yes, I named him) is stronger.

I know the inflammation will pass, and I really wish I could take anti-inflammatories but they make me pukey, I just wish it would pass sooner rather than later.

This gettin’ old shit? Ain’t for wimps.

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Posted on April 15, 2016, in Fun With Fibromyalgia, Random Crap, Uncategorized and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 5 Comments.

  1. Your last line echos the sentiment of my 80-year-old mother. “Aging is not for sissies.”

  2. Oh, man. I’m so sorry you’re dealing with that. But at least you have your sense of humor about it.

  3. Agreed! I thought I was having a difficult time with pain lately but you ma’am have me beat…and not in a good way. 😟 Feel better!

  4. I am so sorry you’re dealing with *breathtaking* pain, but I’m so grateful that you post about it, if for no other reason than to remind me that I am so happy and grateful to NOT be dealing with *breathtaking* pain.

    My miscarriage, maaaaaaaaannnny years ago, was *breathtaking* pain. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, friend or foe. And I consider you my friend, awesomesauce. I hope the meds kick in soon!

  5. Thank you everyone…Bob seems to be taking a bit of a breather. He’s still there, but not hurting nearly as much as he was last week. He’s such a clingy bastard, though, I’m sure he’ll be back at some point. Dick.

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