How I Manage Living With CP

Pain in and of itself is a good thing in that it s a way that a person is warned that something is wrong and requires attention. This type of pain is generally described as an "acute pain" and will eventually dispel when the cause has been addressed.

Chronic Pain however,  lingers for all time even after the initial treatment of the cause has  long since been treated. 

Such is my case. I did a lot of research on this phenomena and with every reading discovered that no scientific cause has been found. The studies reveal that it happens when a person has had an accident or illness, and experienced severe trauma as a result. Although there is no surgical procedure nor magic pill  to take away the pain, managing to live with  Chronic Pain is possible.  

Here I will relate of my own situation, of how I overcame all odds as was told  to me by my care-givers. 

Since the writing (here) of my experience has the potential to trigger some still painful memories, the need to take care of myself is required. This is the essence of my *message* here, and a priority in my regime to maintain wellness.

It is the key point  that I wish to make in this website.  

In order to better appreciate the process and the difficulties I had to work through I have to go  back to that day, July 26th, 1985 .

The events that happened immediately following the accident were related to me by those involved in the rescue. The files in the hospital and the police precinct were made available to my attorney for the litigation, some of which I have read. This was the first step I took as soon as I was physically and mentally able. 

Having sustained  damage to my brains, especially to the frontal lobes of my brain, made it difficult for me to retain information. This disability brought on feelings of frustration, coupled to anxiety and panic. I also thought I was very inadequate which fed into and minimized my self-esteem. But I am ahead of myself!

There is an imprint in my mind which set me on my course and to this day remain the strongest guiding force in my regimen.  

Whenever I weaken in my process, the memory of this generates the energy to give me the strength to push onward and forward. This imprint is -

I am in a pitch black space. The black is so vivid and beautiful. (In my usual state of consciousness I am color blind! To be able to see the brilliance of this color black was like .... "Wow!")  There is a strong feeling of utter peace and sheer bliss.  I remember thinking that I did not want to leave this place. Then a voice which strangely was more felt than heard, said: "You have to go back. Your work is not finished."  I feel a pull towards a brightness above me and as I begin the ascent towards this light, the feelings of peace and bliss turn to irritation and agitation to eventually turn to anger. I am aware of resisting the pull, wanting to remain engulfed in the peace.  

What I remember of the day is getting into the pick-up truck and ensuring that my passenger was properly secured by the seat belt.  Then - of coming to consciousness to be told by the senior doctor attending ER that my passenger was dead. I remember  saying - 'Oh my God I killed him!' and of being assured by the doctor that I was not at fault. 

I recall that  through a blurry fog, I saw a figure bent over me and I could distinguish an epaulet. I remember being asked for family contacts so they could be notified. Oddly, I was able to provide  my sister's address in Scarborough, Ontario. I remember telling the police officer ( whom I later met again) that Joe (the passenger) had a brother living in Queensland, Australia. Joe was my business as well as life-sharing partner for 32 years. At this point I slipped back into unconsciousness.

There is a vague recollection of being told that as soon as I was stable sufficiently to travel by ambulance I would be transferred to another hospital in another town.  Later I was to find out that the expectation by the doctors for this to happen was very slight. I was in a critical state with life threatening complications. As fate would have it, I did make the 60 odd miles journey to  undergo four hours of surgery.

The stay in the Intensive Care Unit (ICU) is a blur in my memory. All that I can recall is receiving tender loving care from a nurse, a figure in white. 

A customer of mine, whom I now consider to be a true friend was the only person permitted to visit me while in ICU. She told me of how she would cry each time she would visit me (which was everyday).  To see me lying in the bed trussed up like a Christmas turkey, with tubes coming out of every crevice in my body, was emotionally tearing for her. Nola was truly an angel in disguise, and a pillar of support  during the three months I was in hospital and immediately following my discharge. The Nolas of this world are very rare,  Somehow they become visible when one is alone and in dire need of support. 

For the first month of my stay in the General Ward, I was confined to bed and required assistance for my personal needs. It was the most difficult time of my stay in the (two) hospitals. To be so totally dependent is a situation I cannot recall having had experienced since infancy. What got me through this period was Nola's daily visit and the fact that I was kept heavily sedated. Physically I felt no pain, and emotionally my senses were dulled by the medication. However I do recall the feeling of frustration because of  my inability to do things for myself, and of having bouts of depression. My care-givers were very understanding and supportive. This went a long way in helping me with my recovery.

In my second month I was self-sufficient although restricted to a wheel-chair. The orthopaedic hospital I was in was overcrowded  and in need of empty beds. For this reason, I was transferred back to the General Hospital in Salmon Arms to convalesce before undergoing more surgery procedures. Once again I made the trip (back) by ambulance. Coincidentally I had the same driver and paramedic who first attended to me at the scene of the accident. It is from them that I got more information as to what happened at the scene.

It was obvious to them at first glance that Joe had died instantly of a broken neck. It  was a relief for me to know that he suffered no pain.

I was draped over the steering wheel pinned down by the logging truck over my head. My right foot  was inserted in the place where the brake pedal use to be. Apparently I had applied the brake with such force that my foot went right through the casing and steel floor. There was no time to be wasted and they could not use the jaws-of-life to cut me free. They pulled at the leg causing it to lacerate, and do damage to the nerves and blood vessels.

Salmon Arm General Hospital.

It is here in this hospital during my second month in recovery that I  became aware of, and began my journey on the Holistic way to wellness . 

Dan Burns, a unique soul, an angel in disguise set me on the path. I first met this person when he visited my café which I was operating at the time of the accident. Thinking back on it I can't help but consider the possibility that perhaps his visits were in preparation for what was to come!

Over coffee we would talk about the metaphysical, a favourite subject of his and one to which I leaned given that my childhood years were  spent living in the Orient. 

While I was back in Salmon Arms' General Hospital Dan would visit me as often as his schedule would permit. Making sure that I was wrapped up warmly in blankets, he would wheel me in my wheelchair to the park adjacent to the hospital. There we would enter into deep discussions. By these talks my mind became more open to the possibility of alternative medicine when all others failed. Coincidentally his wife was my physiotherapist during my month's stay in the Salmon Arms' General Hospital.

This wonderful man gave me the emotional support that I so desperately needed for the next five years.    

Although the years and geographical relocation for me have separated us, Dan will always have a place in my heart. The memories of those times shared remain forevermore the driving force that propel me each day.

I learned early in my process to recovery just how important it is to have the understanding and support of others that touch our lives. To this end, I am and shall always work to encouraging others  to give of this very necessary component!

The Unseen, Silent Power.

To many this bear different names. It matters not ... only that it be recognized and acknowledged. It dwells within each and everyone.

Although I was educated and confirmed in one of the orthodox religion, my own life's experiences led me to follow a different path. My journey on this path started in the latter part of my 17th year. It formed the base upon which I built my life. This made it much easier for me to understand and accept that which was to come.

Changes.

Since the accident there has been many turns and twists on the road that I travel, and continue to be so. Because that there has been so many changes in my life since birth, I have long since learned to accept them without qualm. The ability to do this has been a major positive factor on my road to wellness. I know from discussions with others who live with Chronic Pain, change is for them much more difficult.
Their lives had followed a much straighter path, with few dramatic changes. While I cannot empathize with this I can, and do understand how the difference would slow progress!

Living with Chronic Pain entails multitude of changes. One's whole life and the familiarity of it takes a different course. It takes the individual back to START in the board game of life! Unless one has experienced this (having to start all over again), the notion of it alone is frightening. In my own case, having gone through WW2 in the Pacific war zone prepared me for this. Still, it was difficult, so I can really empathize with this first big step!

Acceptance.

The changes that one has to make and the acceptance of them is of paramount importance. The difference between accepting and not accepting impacts greatly on progress to wellness. During my stay in the hospitals and later in the Stress and Pain Management clinic I saw this!

I entered the clinic immediately following my discharge from the psychiatric ward.  This was nearly two years after the accident. The amount of medication that I was taking (one to counter the side effect of another) led me to deep depression. Suicidal thoughts became increasingly more constant. The red warning light went on in my head and I called my GP for help. He had the good sense to encourage me to voluntarily admit myself and then made the arrangements.

The ten days that it took to bring me out of the suicidal depression convinced me to never allow a repeat of the experience. This is said not with any derogatory reflection on the hospital or it's staff, The facility was excellent and I was well treated and cared for. It was more about my feeling imprisoned and not being in control of my own life.

The predetermination to give my all to the therapy and its applications at the Stress and Pain Management clinic set the course for my success. Since the therapy is an ongoing process, I continue to give it my 100 percent. It is necessary if I am to maintain and continue the quality of life that I have since achieved for myself.

It is not easy and requires more effort with each passing day as I grow older and my body follows the natural aging process.

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