Living with Chronic Pain, Pt 1: History

The past six weeks have been a roller coaster. And the ride, it isn't over yet.

(NOTE: This is the first in a series of posts. I am mostly going to be writing about being the spouse/partner of someone with chronic pain. Some posts may be about my experiences with my own chronic pain. However, while chronic, my pain is not severe or debilitating, so I try to be more "out of sight, out of mind" with it.)

Thanksgiving weekend, Kelton was in SO. MUCH. PAIN. Pain so bad the narcotic pain relievers he has been on for almost two years were not TOUCHING the pain. He was scared. I was scared. In the Emergency Dept. they did an MRI. He still had the herniated discs we knew about; but he also had a lipoma we were unaware of. The radiologist that read his report said he thought epidural steroid injections could help.

Since then Kelton has received the 3 injections he can receive for the year. For a bit after the second injection, things seemed GREAT. Kelton even managed to, for the first time in almost two years, stop taking narcotic drugs completely. He hasn't had one in almost two weeks. Last Thursday, he had his third injection. Yesterday, things started spiraling in reverse.

After doing some lifting, nothing extreme, and certainly nothing that would have even been a blip on his radar before this all started, Kelton's leg pain came back. It was mild yesterday, but by today it's like he has never had an injection. Another injection isn't an option. He had a consult and first adjustment with my chiropractor today. Apparently the lipoma is causing spinal stenosis. And any time he strains his back, the pain will return as long as the lipoma is there.

As long as the lipoma is there. Those words both terrify me and fill me with hope. They are scary, because what if the spine specialist we have an appointment with next week (God, please let him last until next week with this pain.) says surgery isn't an option? What if they say it is? Surgery is scary, but the idea of him living with this pain forever is even scarier. We thought the injections were going to be our magic potion, but they weren't. What if they do a surgery and it doesn't work either? At this point, optimism is hard to come by. This pain has cost him two jobs, cost us our house, and cost him the chance to be the father he wants to be (not that he isn't an amazing father, he just misses being active with the kids and they miss playing with daddy!). We're not sure how much more we can stand to lose.

Next Wednesday we meet with the spine specialist (unless we can happen to get in before that, which we're trying to do). I am praying, hoping, and crossing my fingers that they look at the MRI, meet with him, and say "Yes, you're a great surgical candidate. Let's start this process and get you out of pain!" But a part of me, the natural pessimist in me, is saying "Nope. Not going to happen. They are going to say there's nothing they can do, here are some pills to keep you numb forever." I hate to think like that. That is so far from what I want for him. It's even further from what he wants for himself. I see him struggling. I see him getting down on himself; talking about how he is a bad husband and father because of his pain. But that isn't him, he is not his pain. He's still the amazing, strong, wonderful person I fell in love with. And I have to have faith that God will provide us the doctors and resources we need to get him back to feeling like that person.