The Other Shoe

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.  My posts are based on my personal stories including what it’s like to live with Trigeminal Neuralgia, the most painful diagnosis known to man.

“Tic Douloureux,”  the ENT doctor said.  We were sitting in his office looking at side-by-side computer screens both of which showed an MRI image of the sinuses.  They looked identical.  Mine was on the left.

“I think you have Tic Douloureux.  As you can see from these results, your MRI looks the same as the one showing normal sinuses – the one on the right.  You don’t have any sinus problems nor do I see teeth problems.”

I already knew about the teeth problems.  I had been going to the dentist for years complaining about pain on the left side of my mouth.  It didn’t happen all the time, just one of those little jolts you feel when you bite down on something cold or super sweet.  My dentist and an oral surgeon had already ruled out that the feeling was tooth-related, yet my pain was getting worse.  Much worse.

“Say that again, please?” I asked.

“Tic Douloureux. It’s a Neurological problem.  I can give you a referral if you want one.”

So that was it.  The beginning of my understanding as to why I was in constant pain.  Although “Tic Douloureux” sounds fun like “Skip To My Lou”, I assure you there is no entertainment value in it whatsoever.  I went to the Neuro, who told me the new-fangled name for what I have is Trigeminal Neuralgia.  I was actually happy that someone had figured out any name for my condition.   The doctor then recommended that I not Google it when I got home.

Flash forward twenty minutes and I was standing in front of my laptop, coat still on, car keys in hand, typing T-R-I-G-E-M-I-N-A-L…

I shouldn’t have Googled.  Before I could click off the first link, I had seen more than I really needed.

Progressive and chronic pain condition affecting the nerves of the face.

The most painful medical diagnosis known to man.

Also called “The Suicide Disease”.

All I thought at that moment was, “you have gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”

It wasn’t a joke.  It was a diagnosis.  One that I have now lived with on and off for over six years.  At this point my pain is a constant 24 hour barrier between me and having a life.  And true to almost everything about me, my TN was deemed “Atypical TN” a type of this condition that is often harder to identify than the ol’ standard variety.  I have always been a little left-of-center and now, even my illness was a nonconformist.

This condition only affects 1 in 20,000 people.  Lucky me.

I am someone who lacks personal discipline.  I drive too fast, eat too much red meat, smoke and have a hard time being a self-starter, unless, that is, I am accountable to someone.  I successfully worked in corporate America for over 25 years due in great part to the fact that it was a structured environment.  I had people to whom I reported, those who reported to me, deadlines and goals.  Now that I am unfettered to any expectations from anyone but myself, I have found I am a bit of a non-starter – or maybe a self-slacker.  The fact that I haven’t written a blog post in a year is a pretty good illustration of that fact.

That’s why I’ve signed up for the Blogging From A to Z Challenge for the month of April, 2015.  Each day during the month, writers from all over the world will be blogging based on the alphabet.  Each day’s post must be themed or titled around the corresponding letter, i.e. April 1st = “A”, and so on.  I’m hoping it jump starts the discipline that must lie somewhere withing= me to write every day – not just in April, but beyond.

Eh…we’ll see how it goes.

A theme isn’t entirely necessary, but for me, they sort of imply structure and I’m trying to get my unstructured ass in gear.  So I will be writing about personal stuff, especially about living with Chronic Pain.  Sounds like a fun read, huh?  I’ll try and make it funny, or at least as entertaining as I can.

I’m writing this on March 31, so tomorrow, I start.  Wish me luck!  Hope you come back for all the “I live with chronic pain” goodness that will spew from my page daily.

So, like millions of other people, I decided to start a blog.  It isn’t because I feel I have anything particularly inspiring or insightful to say.  Rather, it seems the thing to do these days, especially for writers who are looking forward to getting published some day.  Oh, I’ve had a few short stories published, but nothing of much consequence.  It is the novel – the one in rough draft form that sits unedited on my desk – that I am hoping will see the publishing light of day sometime soon.  It’s not quite the “great American novel”, unless fixations with sociopaths, murder and dark humor are part of the lexicon that are the mainstream themes of Americana.  They are, however, subjects about which I’ve always been fascinated and those that my entire family seem to relish.  That’s partly why I’ve called my blog, “The Other Shoe.”

I haven’t led an exciting life by most people’s standards, but it has been eventful, mostly in a jarring way.  I live in constant anticipation of the other shoe dropping.  For some reason, in my mind, it’s always the right shoe that falls – never the left – and at my age, I have enough right shoes to open up a boutique for a very select, and lopsided clientele.  For many years I remained poised like a cat to pounce on that next shoe.  Ready to take action, control the situation with strength and poise.  Lately though, I find myself acting more like a possum; frozen and immobile in hopes that the shoe doesn’t hit me.

I’m not quite sure where this blog will take me, but I suspect some of it will be telling my story, in a way that I hope at least resonates with some people.  I hope it is funny.  I hope that it’s at least marginally interesting enough to keep people reading.  And I hope that it helps me grow as a writer, even if that means accepting critical feedback.  Just don’t send me any right shoes.  I have more than I will ever need.

‘Til the urge strikes me again ~

~S.