Seeking Clarity Amidst the Pain: My Journey Continues 11/2/24

November 2, 2024 – Day 102 of Recovery

Today marked a complex blend of fleeting relief, introspection, and unexpected challenges. The day began in a place that has offered comfort recently: my hammock in the breezeway. After waking up just past 7 a.m., I lingered there for an hour or two, suspended between rest and contemplation. The morning air carried the melodies of birds and wind chimes, while the faint hum of Saturday traffic added a background rhythm. Despite the serenity, my mind was restless, racing with questions about my recovery: Would my hip feel stronger today? Am I stuck at home on this Saturday again? If I leave, will I over do it with my hip? These questions, though daunting, have been arising this week, as I have encountered some setbacks.

Morning Observations and Trusting the Process

Getting out of the hammock, I cautiously put weight on my leg, using both crutches as a safeguard. To my surprise, the initial steps were better than expected—similar to how I felt yesterday morning. A spark of gratitude flickered within me, a small but significant reminder of resilience. I showered and took stock of my physical state. Though my hip wasn’t ready for ambitious outings or motorcycle rides, it was stable enough for a quiet day at home.

The morning was underscored by a decision to surrender to what is. Rather than fighting the unknown, I prepared a warm cup of cacao, stepped outside, and settled into my zero-gravity chair to read No Bad Parts. Time passed gently as the sun wrapped me in warmth, and I felt momentarily grounded. The words on the page resonated deeply, particularly this reminder:

When I’m interacting with someone, I can quickly notice how open or closed my heart is and how much compassion I have for them. I’ll check to see if I have a big agenda for talking to them or a tone of voice that’s constrained or lacking energy.

These moments of reflection reminded me of the importance of self-awareness and compassion, not just toward others but for myself in the midst of this healing journey.

Afternoon Sunshine and Shifting Pains

By mid-afternoon, the peace began to waver. Standing up after a couple of hours in the sun brought a familiar sting—a sharp, nervy pain in my lower shin and hip. The discomfort was inconsistent, sometimes fading when I stood still, only to reappear during weight-bearing movements. I tested my theory that the nerve pain shifted based on pressure and position. While walking with my cane, the pain fluctuated, hovering around a manageable level 4. Each step was a reminder of the fragility of progress.

Determined to maintain some level of normalcy, I folded towels in the dining room and put them away while I was still able to walk. The pain subsided briefly, sparking hope that the nerve pressure had adjusted. But as the minutes ticked by, the nerve pain re-emerged when I sat down with my cat, Lokah, nestled in my lap. Moving from rest to standing triggered sharp, knife-like stabs in my hip and down my leg, reminiscent of my most intense pain flares.

Evening Trials and Navigating Intense Pain

The real test came in the early evening. Around 5:15 p.m., I found myself stuck at the dining room table, unable to walk due to level 9 stabbing pain. I had been sitting there for 45 minutes with minimal discomfort. As soon as I began to stand, the lightest pressure on my right leg sent shockwaves of nerve pain through my leg. I captured this experience on video as I pushed my chair backward, inching across the floor to retrieve my crutches. The experience was raw and humbling. Just hours earlier, I had been walking with a cane, full weight-bearing. Now, every movement felt like a battle.

I finally managed to stand and make it outside for a breath of fresh air. Observing my feet, I noticed a color difference between them, with my right foot appearing darker—a potential sign of circulation issues or inflammation. These small observations sparked new questions: Is there fluid building up inside my hip, pressing against a nerve and affecting circulation?

For dinner tonight, I decided to drag my computer chair to the kitchen. It seemed like the only way to manage a big pot of stew from the fridge, heat it on the stove, and maneuver it to the table to eat. Even the simple task of preparing a meal reminded me of how much adaptation my body now demands, turning everyday actions into carefully orchestrated efforts.

Seeking Answers and Reaching Out for Help

With pain peaking and questions swirling, I took a Tylenol and a dose of kratom, hoping for some relief. I made my way to the bed, where simply sitting on the bed triggered the nerve pain once more. After a careful moment, I was able to get on the bed and get my feet elevated. I found a small measure of comfort and reflected on my next steps. I spoke with my friend Benny via FaceTime, piecing together the week’s events and solidifying my concerns. I reached out to my osteopathic doctor, requesting an MRI to rule out fluid buildup or other complications. It would be ideal if I can get a MRI early this coming week!

Reflecting on the Journey So Far

This week has highlighted the unpredictable nature of recovery. Just a few days ago, I was walking with ease, making strides in my progress. Today, I am revisiting familiar pain and uncertainty. The inconsistencies don’t align with overuse or recent activities like motorcycle rides or bike trips. Instead, they point to something deeper—perhaps nerve-related, or an internal issue that needs closer inspection.

As I close out Day 102, my thoughts are centered on finding clarity, embracing resilience, and holding onto the hope that this setback is temporary. I long for the day when walking is free of pain, but until then, I’ll continue to surrender to each moment, trusting that this journey, however challenging, is still moving forward.

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Thank you for taking the time to read this. If you made it to the end, I would love to hear from you!

Lokah Samastah Sukhino Bhavantu – May All Beings Be Happy and Free