pain is such a bitch

I got nothin' this week, no funny, just increasing pain from the herniated disc.  At least I know why.  Yesterday morning early I was standing in the kitchen both feet planted on the ground and for whatever reason, possibly just forgetting my jacked-up state, I twisted to the right from the hips.  Bad idea.  It wasn't even an idea at all, actually, just an action without thought that has now inflamed the general area of my entire left hip, booty and leg.  Yesterday was super-hard comfort-wise, despite the full bottle (YES!) of pain medication I now possess, not to mention the difficulty of my job situation this week just generally.

A little tiny thing -- a twist to the right -- and now I'm up since 4, sick of trying to get comfortable and sleep, irritated with the futility of it.  Up so I can swallow more pills, try to get through this until 4pm tomorrow when I have epidural #2.

Look: I'm abundantly aware of how boring pain is.  I myself am bored out of my mind.  Actually, I feel more like I'm pained out of my mind, like every single thought is nudged out to make way for sensations of discomfort.  Even my vocabulary is diminished.  Who needs twenty words for snow when all you're looking for is another way of saying, "this hurts like a mother fucker"? Such a stupid drag.

And naturally, given that my baby sister is dying -- really, who wouldn't want to trade brain cancer for a disc herniated in two places? -- I feel like an absurd asshole complaining at all. Under the circumstances, given what's happening in my family, I've been trying to keep my moaning and complaining to a respectful murmur.

Except today I'm really bummed and I hurt and I can't sleep and I feel like I'm wasting the fucking pills because they're barely helping me even though I'm taking them two at a time, so yes, today I'm moaning and complaining a little louder.

Fuck OFF, stoicism.  You're as big a pain in my ass as this sciatica.

But yeah, I know it's boring.  Like I said, I'm bored, as each complex thought gets drilled out of my head.  Bored!  And a little helpless to be creative right now, with my entire focus directed at just surviving each moment with a minimum of tooth-gritting.

I'm trying not to make any big decisions right now, or really any decisions at all without counsel.  I'm working hard not to quit my job in a paroxysm of disgust at how insane the workload and stress are -- since I'm not sure I can see anything clearly at present.  But I am remembering that last time this happened to me -- yes, I herniated a different disc in the summer of 1998, relieved finally by surgery in February of 1999, thank goodness --  last time, when I completed my recovery from the straight-forward excellently-performed totally-successful microsurgery, within a month I quit my then-insane nonprofit job.  It was as if I emerged from the fog of pain into a clear-eyed state in which I could sudddenly feel in every fiber of my being the irreparable dysfunction and impossibility of my job.  Released from one crippling physical pain, I rejected totally the mental pain of working with those crazy people in that crazy setting.  I quit.  It was the right move, even though it was a big gamble.  I got myself out of both kinds of pain.

Pain is such bullshit.  I am voting No.

So I wonder what will happen when I'm finally out of this pain, since I do find myself in a fairly impossible job situation at present, one in which I have all but given up on the possibility that I can ever feel successful for long, one in which I feel I am fairly at the mercy of someone else's moods.  And since the other shoe dropped this week and the period of detente, of simple human pleasantries, appears to be at an end, it's possible that if epidural #2, scheduled for 4pm on Friday (35 hours from now), well if epidural #2 succeeds, hmmm, I might be making some changes in favor of a truly pain-free life.  Just sayin': I've done it before.

Since all I've really got in my bag of words lately is more of the above (boooooring), I'm leaving you with this link to from Danielle LaPorte's piece entitled,"The euphoria of admitting when it sucks," which got me through yesterday.  The list below is now glued into the Moleskin that goes with me everywhere, reminding me of some basic truths that clearly bear repeating, especially since #1-3, 5-6 and 8 are just so true right now

Indicators of when it simply is not working:
1. You use “it sucks” in a sentence to describe any aspect of your situation.
2. You “drag your ass” to it.
3. Sunday night anxiety (dreading Monday.)
4. Dismal sales (yes, the universe speaks to us through cash flow.)
5. The bleak absence of synchronicity.
6. Not a whole lot of thanks coming your way.
7. Your mother is your best customer.
8. Seething resentment.

I keep asking myself: if 2012 is my Year of Shri, of Make it Pretty or Shut Up, then how does this job fit into that exactly?  Sure, I re-arranged my office and made the environment I occupy 40 hours a week pretty, but what about the interpersonal atmosphere: can I shri that up?  And if not, then what the hell?

Not making any decisions right now, just swallowing pills and getting through the deadlines with as much grace as I can manage.  And certainly without any more twisting to the right or to the left.  Keeping my complaining to a minimum and counting the minutes to epidural #2, please please please work better and longer than the first and get me out of this boring place.

XX