The last week has been hell. I don’t know what I did or why it happened, but there has been an incredible increase in pain (from a five out of ten to seven or eight out of ten) and I cannot cope. It’s as if the fusion has come loose or the graft has pulled away, except I’m sure it hasn’t. But something has happened that feels like a knife has been plunged into the base of my back and is shooting daggers down my legs. Strong medication doesn’t even temper it.
I love life and I don’t want it to end, but the life I am living right now has no quality, no happiness or joy. There is only sadness and tears. I don’t want to live if this is what my life will be.
All I look forward to is being knocked out. My happiest moment of the day is when I take my sleeping pill. I know I will enjoy a few pain-free hours before the pain nags me awake again, and I have to endure another twenty four hours of misery.
Though family, community and friends offer support and solidarity, I have nowhere to turn. The medics either don’t know what to do with me or probably consider me a crank. I feel lost and beaten.
The last two years have seemed like twenty. In so many ways, my life ended two years ago, only I didn’t stop breathing and my heart kept beating. The only thing I am grateful for is that I was there for my dad at his end, and there for my mother in her grief.
I am tired of pain and constipation and doctors and pills and hospitals. I am tired of disappointment heaped on disappointment.
I am tired of moaning and whining and self-pity.
I am tired.
frommypulpit 
Oh Gerry, I’m so sorry to hear about your bad week, please let me know if you think there is anything I can do to help. I sincerely wish a satisfactory solution will be found soon that we easy your pain. Best wishes, John.
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