Thick Skin

Tomorrow, I’ll be stepping back into the building I swore I’d never return to-the rehab hospital. Well, actually, I’ve sworn off this place multiple times…and somehow I always end up back there. My palms become sweaty just thinking about it. This time I’ll only be there for the morning rather than being admitted, which is different than the 4 other times I’ve been there. It’s kind of a relief knowing that I don’t have to commit to any physical torture [yet], and as a bonus, I get to see one of my pain friends while I’m in town!

This appointment is not without plenty of hesitation. I kind of feel like a puppy coming back with its tail between its legs because I always seem to disappoint my therapists when I go there. When I was hospitalized last Fall, my PT gave me a firm lecture about how I should’ve been better by then, how I wasn’t trying hard enough, and how I was going to have severe consequences (mostly physically: skin lesions, infections, amputation…) if I didn’t start to get better and take care of myself. Well, even though I have taken better care of my leg, some of the consequences are still happening.

I know that I’ll probably be given another lecture at this appointment, so I’m prepping for it and trying to grow some thick skin. I keep reminding myself that regardless of their opinions on the state of my health, I know that I have been at least attempting to do what they instructed. I’ve done my exercises, washed my bad leg often (*shudders*), and I have worn my compression stockings faithfully. Heck, I even painted my toenails.  I haven’t just been kicking back and doing nothing for the past year, so I hope that they at least see that I’ve tried. If not, hopefully I’ll be able to keep it together enough so I don’t become a blubbering mess in front of everyone. I guess that’s where the thick skin would be useful 🙂

I’ve gone over a million scenarios in my head of how this could all go down. In a perfect world, everything would go smoothly. They’d see me as a “new” patient, forgetting our, uh, issues of the past. We would be able to have a decent conversation and create a solid plan for treatment. It could go in a completely different direction, leaving me even more disappointed and frustrated than before…although after my appointment in June at a different place, I think this will be a breeze. Or it could have a mix of good and bad, which is the most realistic situation. No matter the outcome, I’m ready to get it over with.

Here goes nothing…putting on my tough face and thick skin. In 24 hours, all the worry and anticipation will disappear and I will (hopefully) have a clearer view of the future.

School’s Out

I used to have an almost-perfect attendance record in school…but then RSD happened. Beginning in 8th grade, I’ve had an every-other-year sort of pattern with my school situation. Actually, that’s not even right. After missing half of my 8th grade year, it sort of became a toss-up as to whether or not I’d be in school during any given month. I think 9th grade was my last full year of school. As of today, I’m beginning another off-semester. Yep, I finally made my decision…my health is more important than school.

Now, some people may look at my situation and think (or say), “wow, you’re so lucky! You don’t have to worry about school.” Well, for a normal person, that may be the case. But truthfully, I wish I could go to school and worry about studying instead of pondering the possibilities of my medical future. I wish that the worst thing in my life was failing an exam. I wish I could further my education so I could graduate and have a real job. None of this is “lucky,” nor is it easy to say goodbye to another semester of education. But sometimes life brings us to the point where we have to buckle down and make the tough decisions, sacrificing our present comfort  for the hope of a better future.

I keep reminding myself that school will always be there. Whether I go back four months from now or four years from now, it will always be there. That’s not changing. But my health? Well, there is always the potential for things to get worse. As time goes on, the possibility of a spread increases while the idea of remission decreases. It’s more important to be proactive now and have an open schedule in case something happens.

The other thing that I have to remember is that I absolutely cannot compare myself to those around me. As the people I’ve grown up with graduate, get married, and have kids, I can’t allow myself to get down about the fact that I am still where I am. I have to continuously tell myself that we each have our own journey in life. Sure, I have friends who are younger than me and have already graduated, but they’ve had pretty simple, normal lives. They’ve never stepped foot in a hospital. They’ve never felt the defeat of doctors telling them they can’t help. They’ve never been locked in a psych ward or taken back to an operating room. They’ve had time and energy to devote to books and homework, while I’ve been fighting with all my strength to have the courage to stay alive. Trying to compare my story with theirs just doesn’t make sense.

So, now that I’m not in school…what do I do? Well, to be honest, I don’t know. My next appointment isn’t until mid-October. I could try doing some outpatient PT now, but most therapists don’t even know what RSD is, and I’ve already tried that route multiple times. I need to keep myself busy, so I think I’ll work on writing, crafting (I see quite a few new crutch covers in my future…), and doing some volunteer work. If anyone has suggestions for what to do with my time, let me know!

I’ll never understand why things happen the way they do. Why I continuously get my hopes up, only to have a twist in plans. All I can do is trust that one day, this will all make sense. And hey, my wallet will be a little less starved now that I’m not paying tuition for the semester! Looking on the bright side…;)

Who knows what the future may bring, but now I have an open calendar, ready to embrace whatever life throws my way.