Stitch by stitch

My alarm clock was set for eight, but my back had enough by 6am. After it's continuous nagging, I finally dragged myself out of bed at 7, wishing I was still taking those pain meds.
I stopped taking them this week, only to be reminded once again that narcotics don't rid you of pain, they just make you sleep through a bulk of it. And unfortunately, I couldn't stand a minute more of being unable to remain conscious for more than 10 minutes at a time.
So here I sit, unmedicated.
Actually the pain isn't that bad. They cut all the way to my spine a little over a week ago, and the resulting pain does not match a chiari or fibro flare. Isn't that interesting?!
I'm actually big on not taking pills, which has made this trip in life so much more interesting than if I had not been a drug counselor and seen one too many clients who once had a surgery, or injury and 10 years later were still trying to get off the prescribed meds.
I know I drive my docs crazy.
However, with a history of anorexia, I am not taking my chances on becoming a pill addict. And I am a believer in the addiction theories associated with eating disorders. Therefore I won't buy into the idea that some doctors have that it is safe to take these addictive pills if you really need them.
No one saw the harm in those first 10 or 20 pounds dropping either.

Anyhow, most Chiarians come in on heavy doses of pain meds, so only the best post-surgical meds are given for our surgeries, because many people with my condition have a high tolerance for meds. Unfortuantely, and fortunately I do not. So they knocked me on my butt.

Now that I am "waking up", I am realizing the MSWalk is just around the corner. I need to decide if I am still walking, and if so, I really need to figure out which doc I should get consent from. Hmmmm.
I have already heard from some, that I should throw in the towel for this year since I did just have surgery. However, last year I walked with Chiari, fibro, and undiagnosed tethered cord, and a horrible decompression that hadn't been fixed yet or cleaned from remnants of meningitis........
So I am thinking a little slice on the back isn't exactly an excluding factor from walking.
But we'll see. I get the stitches out today, so I will ask the primary care doc what she thinks. I am guessing she will refer the question to the surgeons, but who knows until you ask.
Anywho.... if anyone would like to make a donation for MS, my site is a click awayClick here to donate.
If you would rather donate through someone who is definately walking, I will post one of my friend's sites at a later date (once I know what it is myself)

And if you would like to walk there is still time to register for the April 6th walk in Frederick.....or in the area closest to you. Click here to register!

Take care of you,
Queli

Zip it Chiari!

The journey has led to into a storm; a twister if you may. Someone once explained a tornado to me as a storm that has turned in on itself. Sometimes I feel my body is it’s own form of this violent weather.

The vast bubble of fluid resting outside of my scull disappeared overnight after a someone-please-kill-me-migraine. Yes, I am sure everyone can relate to one of those at some point in their life. The headache which actually leads you to think that forcibly removing that part of your scull with a hammer, or other useful devise, might actually improve the situation.

The next morning I wake up with a hangover-like feeling, and a normal feeling scull. I thought perhaps I was drinking the night before and perhaps was still drunk, imagining this. On the second day, I was rejoicing that indeed no alcohol was involved!
My head was normal….although I did go to bed with a pretty nasty headache.
Then on the third day, my brain swallowed my scull….again, if you remember earlier posts regarding this matter.
It feels almost like a piece is missing or sucked in behind that plate of titanium, which didn’t set off the airline alarms by the way on my way back from Phoenix. What is up with airline security? That bothered me. However, not being patted down, now that was priceless.
Anyhow, I asked the surgeon about it and we postponed the shunt to wait and see what is going on. He saw this as a “oh wow, perhaps you might not need the shunt”; where I saw it as “Oh crap, you have no idea what is wrong with me!”
Perspective is everything.
I panicked, and when I say panic I don’t mean got a little nervous. I mean snot-nosed sobbing, and freaking out type of ordeal which usually can only be controlled by God’s grace or Xanax.
I was focused on the storm and felt myself sinking. I let myself sink to the point where I even questioned my place in ministry. How could God use me when my brain is on a manifest gusto, sneaking down my spine and devouring my scull? I felt useless, and incapable in an instant.
Not being in the know, and more importantly, the experts not being in the know, really brought me to my knees.
And that’s not a bad place to go. I think getting weak in the knees only puts us in the right position where we should have been in the first place.
Putting my focus back on Christ, the storm began to fade. And I realized, or should I say remembered, it’s not about me.
Again perspective is everything.
Now I find myself in an awesome territory called peace, located directly in the eye of the storm.
I know this concave scull thing can’t be good…but we don’t have answers today. SO, why worry about what I can not control?!
The doctors are checking into it, and hopefully will come back with answers.
In the meantime, I say Zip it Chiari! I am not sitting down until the captain flashes the “fasten your seatbelt” sign.
We will figure this out in the proverbial tomorrow…For now, I am moving forward, while comfortably resting in today.
Peace,
Q