(Today’s blog post is part of the Blogging From A to Z Challenge during which writers all over the world blog each day in April based on a corresponding letter of the alphabet. These are my personal stories about living with Trigeminal Neuralgia, the most painful diagnosis known to man.)
When you have TN, life’s a beach – in the metaphorical sense. I’m not a big fan of large bodies of water (for no particular reason). So to me, TN is sort of like the ocean – something that frightens me and which is to be avoided. The shore is my regular life. Dry and nonthreatening. Since first experiencing pain about six years ago, I was able to draw a line in the sand over which I would never cross. The problem is, the waves of TN would roll in closer and soon, that line was swept away.
When it all started, my pain was sporadic. I’d have a few crummy days, then all would be well for a while. I could deal with it without any interference to my work or life. Then the painful periods became more frequent, and although I hated to do so, I had to start taking time off from work.
Woosh. The first big wave just hit.
Then my pain became constant. I couldn’t perform at my job well so with the generous assistance of my company, I took a leave of absence to figure out what was going on.
Woosh. There’s another wave.
Eventually, since my pain was only increasing, I had to leave my job.
Once I became unemployed, I set certain expectations for my self.
I will write every day. Woosh. Gone.
I will get up and take a shower first thing every morning. Woosh. Bye bye.
I will do something social at least once a week. Woosh. Where’s the remote?
Every time I tried to reset that line in the sand, I was backing into the seawall because the tides of TN were coming in higher and higher.
So basically, I’ve ended up with one hard and fast line: No matter how crappy I feel, I will never get back into bed during the day. Ever.
So far I’m holding my own on the good side of that line. But I’ve got to admit, the bed is looking awfully nice and dry to me these days.