Redemption

Some of you may remember that I had a little incident a few months ago. Five months exactly. I have not written about it much since. I have been busy, I've been working through it. I didn't eat well for a couple of weeks, mostly liquids and chips, nothing cohesive. I lost some weight. One of the potential side effects of the heimlich maneuver is ruptured stomach or esophagus. I believe it, my innards felt bruised enough.

Fall rushed in, the weather turned cold, and I could not find the gorgeous purple wool scarf D had given me last winter. I consoled myself that it was karmic payment for my life, and although I grieved the loss, I accepted it.

I had crippling neck pain at first, during my first week in the new job. Spending orientation listening to deadly dull but important information while having flashbacks and whiplash spasms was a special kind of purgatory. Ran around like a mad thing getting help, then getting caught in employee health red tape and I dotting/T crossing. Trying to to burst into tears while orienting to my new operating room, an old, huge, complex place at the best of times.

The training portion of my job continued as the pain crept down my back, and I awkwardly navigated my way through my blessedly active new health insurance. Got to a chiropractor, who was less helpful than hoped, but still helped some. The visceral memories of waking up breathing, or going out not breathing, were becoming lesser. The back pain was getting frighteningly worse at times, then would change, becoming sacral. The physical nature of my job was painful, but probably kept me moving through it. I hobbled around. My usual stretches were unbearable, and I stopped even trying yoga. Ice, usually my friend, did nothing and felt worse.

I settled into my own section, ironically orthopedics, and had nightmares of needing back surgery. Had an appointment with a PCP, who sent a letter canceling, then called several times to remind me of the appointment I had, that they had notified me was no more. By then, I had, with great difficulty and much asking around, found a real GP, within walking distance. She saw me quickly, gave me good advice, and I spent two weeks taking ibuprofen, much to the dismay of my stomach, but the back did improve. My pain seemed to turn into hip bursitis. And then, gradually, seemed to resolve.

A few weeks of only mildly aching back, but no return of energy had me worried. All I wanted to do was sleep, weekends were about sleeping, not going out, not doing anything, resting. I found a place that does clinical massage, and since my birthday was coming up, I allowed the indulgence.

Tears leaked out the whole time she worked on me. I was dismayed at how much pain was in my back, everywhere hurt. At the end, she had me sit, and I burst into a vomit of tears. No discernible emotion, but an explosion of wracking sobs.

Thursday morning, I woke up well for the first time in many months. Perhaps five. Not without pain, but with a modicum of energy, not black fatigue. Perhaps grey-ish fatigue.

I went back yesterday for another massage. This was not indulgence, this was getting out the root of pain so deep I no longer felt it. Tears again, flashbacks again, good information, again. I've been guarding my belly, hunching over, pulling my back off until it has become a habit. I iced the sore spot, and it helped. I did a bit of yoga, and it felt good. I will go to the suggested and reasonably priced, yoga classes. I have four days off in a row. We cleaned yesterday, vacuumed, ran five loads of laundry and laundered the blankets, daubed bleach on the mold on the walls - moving the screen that has not been moved in our memory since moving in. I noticed some familiar fringe under the old sarong which covered the screen.

It was, inexplicably, miraculously, the lovely purple wool scarf.

Yes, I did say thank you, out loud.