Tag: pain

Riding the merry-go-round

The thing about my Cerebral Palsy is that it sometimes makes me feel a bit like I’m riding  merry-go-round, but not one that goes at a steady pace and plays soothing music; one that goes far too fast and shakes you right down to the bones.

I feel like this blog has lost its positive attitude of late. I haven’t been writing about ‘fun’ topics. I feel like I haven’t said anything that might make you all smile for a couple of weeks now. Sorry about that, but when I started this blog I wanted it to be as honest as I could about my life with my disability, and that means that I have to talk about this stuff whether I like it or not. I don’t, as it happens, but I think you probably knew that already.

You see, I feel like I’ve been riding the merry-go-round lately. This happens sometimes. I get into a cycle where things don’t feel like they’re going great for me from a CP point of view, and I  just have to wait and ride it out until it’s my turn to get off again and things can get back to ‘normal,’ (don’t you just hate that word?), and I start to feel better both physically and emotionally.

It started a couple of weeks ago when I started having pains in my hip and I had to face up to the fact that I’ve been letting my physio slip. This week it’s my back that’s decided it’s going to hurt. Next week, my shoulders might well decide that it’s their turn to play up. Then again, they might not. It might be a different set of muscles or body parts, or I might feel fine, who knows?

Round and round I’ll have to go.

Round and round I will go, moving from physio and stretches to putting wheatbags on the sore area, all the while I will be continually asking myself what I might have done that’s caused this aches and pains. I’ll tell myself it’s not my fault, I’ll tell myself it is. If I can’t fix it, I’ll beat myself up over it. I’ll tell myself off for not having the answers even though I’m not a physio and no one expects me to have all the answers. Yet,  somehow, I expect myself to. I feel like I’ve been going through these cycles for so long and I should be able to stop them, but I  can’t. Maybe I’ll never learn how.

I’ll toy with the idea of asking for an appointment with my physio countless times, but I always feel guilty about asking for one. What if things aren’t as ‘bad’ as I think they are? What if I’m taking away a slot from someone who needs it more?

Around and around I’ll go, until things stop aching.

 

 

 

Bittersweet memories

Before I had my surgery on my hips and legs a few years ago, I also used to get a lot of pain in my shoulders too. This was caused by my posture. They hurt every day and the bones would ‘crack’ all the time which wasn’t very nice either. Some nights I couldn’t lie on one side because it was too uncomfortable. It’s not something I’d care to go through again if I’m being truthful.

At the time, my knees had rotated inwards thanks to the way I stood, to the point where they practically faced each other rather than facing outwards, so I had operations in which they broke my hips and one of the bones in my legs and reset them to correct this. Then I had another operation to lengthen all the muscles in my legs.

I’m pleased to say that after that the pain in my shoulders stopped and they haven’t really bothered me all that much since. Well, not unless I have quite a long day pulling my walking frame Martha around or decide to bring home one too many books from the library, which I hang in a carrier bag that I put over the side of Martha so that I don’t have to carry them in my handbag and get backache. I was guilty of probably taking out a stack of heavy books yesterday actually, but thankfully my dad was on hand to give me lift home so it saved my shoulders a lot of work. Thanks Dad!

But there is another reason for me writing this post today besides confessing that I am a bookworm who is often guilty of checking out more books that she can comfortably carry sometimes. Please tell me some of you have done that too and that it’s not just me!

Sometime last week I was laying on my tummy, which I personally find is a way for me to get a good stretch, because my legs and back were quite achy that day. I moved my arm to put it in a more comfortable position and I could instantly I’d done something that my shoulder wasn’t happy about because it ‘cracked’ and started aching right away.

Thankfully, the achiness is starting to subside now, but having discomfort in my shoulders again has brought back memories of how I used to be in the days before I had my surgery.

Although it hasn’t been nice to think about how much my shoulders hurt, it’s been quite nice to take some time to reflect and think about how far I’ve come over the last few years, which I think is actually further than I realise most days and definitely further than I give myself credit for.

Let’s hope it continues!

Learning to love physio

I’m not going to lie, learning to love physio was hard. I don’t mean trying to do the Sudoku puzzle in the morning paper hard, I mean trying to give up the food you love the most hard.

Over the years I’ve had loads of physiotherapists and I have liked them all. I just didn’t find the therapy itself particularly enjoyable from the age of around six or seven until I was became old enough to understand and appreciate the benefits . The reasons that I didn’t like it were, admittedly, my own fault, no one else’s.

I was stubborn and pretty much all my friends were able-bodied when I was growing up and, as far as I knew, none of them had to have physio. But I did. It made me feel different and I hated feeling that way. I’d dodge doing my exercises as much as possible and would row with my parents about it all the time. I’d shout, scream and cry about it but they’d still make me keep doing the stretches that I needed them to help with, but I’d always try and avoid doing the ones that were my own responsibility. Sometimes, I’d go weeks without doing any and other times I’d do a set every couple of days. In reality I knew that I should be doing them morning and night at least but that never really happened.

I used to dread the appointments with my therapists because I knew that I wasn’t doing as well as I should or could be. They never actually told me off or shouted at me for it, but deep down I always felt like I was letting them down. Really I suppose the irony is was that the whole time the person I failed and disappointed the most was myself.

Then at sixteen I had a complete attitude change. I had some surgery (much more on that later) which meant that I wasn’t allowed to stand for six weeks, after which there’d be another operation. If I didn’t buckle down and get on with it I knew that I wouldn’t get the most out of the opportunity that I was given and I didn’t want to waste it.

Mum, Dad and I embarked on a regime that seemed to feel like I was doing exercises every 30 minutes. It was probably more like every 90 looking back on it. At the time it hurt more and left me more tired than any I’ve ever had to do in my life. I used to mock complain about the amount I had to do, but secretly I found that I actually looked forward to it!

I found my inner competitive streak around that time, even if it was only with myself. I would try and do one more of each activity every time and when I could see the results it made me so proud that I didn’t want to stop. I knew that I was being proactive in helping myself and that made me feel good and is probably what got me through that rehab period, along with the love and support of those around me, of course.

After that I figured that I worked so hard there was no point in giving it all up now. While I admit that I probably didn’t do as much of it as recommended while I was studying, I’ve really tried to get into a habit now that I’m back home again. Yes, there are times when I slip, days I forget and some days that I make the choice to have a day off. Now though, I don’t dread the appointments, I look forward to them and the sense of achievement that they bring.

Wakey wakey, achy achy

Yet again today I’m feeling grateful for the small things that make the biggest difference to my life. Yes, things like my walking frame Martha and my walk-in shower have a huge, huge impact and I couldn’t imagine not having them in my life anymore, but sometimes I think the over shadow the small things that really, really help. Today for example, I am thanking my lucky stars that my family have quite a large collection of wheat bag

I know that wheat bags might not be suitable for everyone to use, and I am not a medical professional so I cannot suggest when anyone else may want to use one, or should not use them. This post is a reflection of my personal experience with wheat bags and should not be used as a replacement for medical advice.

I’ve heard people refer to them as many different things from heat cushions to heat pillows and hotties, but they all pretty much do the same thing. You pop them in the microwave for a few minutes to warm them up (like my microwave socks) and then I can put them wherever I’m feeling stiff or sore to try and sooth the problem. Some of them even come scented like lavender or vanilla, but in the end I always think that after you’ve had them a while they start to smell like popcorn. No one else agrees with me on this point but I like the aroma and I love popcorn so I don’t really mind because it makes me happy nonetheless.

On the surface I know it sounds almost no different from using a hot water bottle, but the thing is that I can’t fill one of those up for myself (not safely anyway) so when my mum introduced me to these a few years ago it was like a revelation – I could use these whenever I wanted rather than having to wait until there was someone else around! When I went to university I forgot to pack one in my suitcase and didn’t make it all the way through the year without one. I think I did manage to hold off getting one until second term though, which I was quite impressed at. Now I’ve learned my lesson and it is the first thing I pack if I know I’ll be away from home for anything longer than about four days.

This morning when I woke up with both of my hips and my neck feeling quite stiff I didn’t really think twice about hunting one down and using it. I’m not saying that they are the best thing for everyone – we’re all different so I know that they won’t be suitable for all, but they really help me personally to feel better. Another reason I like these quite so much is that I can wrap them around my body too which I find to be an advantage if I’ve had a long day pulling Martha around and my arm and shoulder muscles start crying out for some TLC.

They come in all shapes, sizes and colours and my mum gets me a new one every Christmas or birthday. Last year she got me a Smurfette one (which I was VERY excited about – way too excited, if I’m honest) and the year before that I got a squirrel teddy that had one inside, but I love this one far too much to bring myself to take it out of the packaging.