Sexuality Happens

I’ve been having a rough couple of days with my knees.  The other day, I really couldn’t get out of bed for a while, and once I did, I had to ice my knees for a while and chug pain pills to function.  Then I went to physical therapy, and was told, once again, more clearly than usual, that this pain will never go away. In fact it will get worse.  And I just need to learn to deal with it.  So here is a cross post (very rare) from my personal blog when I was sitting at home cry, as close to being suicidal as I have been in the last few years.

Yesterday, I woke up throughout the night with sharp pains. Not normal pain, but bad pain. Why? Because I went to homecoming at my college, and decided to swing dance…to ONE song. One song, and I’ve spent the last 24 hours on percocet with bags of ice. It’s my own damn fault, I know. But damn it, I miss dancing. So I wanted to dance one dance. And I’m paying the price for it today. And I’m angry.

It’s not sex, sorry. But it is me. Deal with it…cause I have to.

-Essin’ Em

“Imagine being 14, and being bounced around from doctor to doctor. Each one is sure he knew exactly what it was, sending you to another doctor. Until you’ve been to 7 or 8, and people just don’t know.

Imagine being in physical therapy for almost 9 years, never missing it for more than a month. 9 therapists in 9 years. Each one has a different style, but you do the same damn exercises. For 9 years. You probably have owned more therabands than a PT student.

Imagine being told you will never again be allowed to do any of the three sports that you ever loved. First figure skating; you can play but you can’t jump. There goes that. Then hockey; you can play, but not with your legs bent (have you SEEN hockey skates). Then derby; sure you can play again, but you can just NEVER fall on your knees.

Imagine that your other favorite thing to do, dancing, suddenly becomes much harder and punishing. You can’t do 90% of the things you want to do, and the ones you can cause extra pain that lasts for days.

Imagine every doctor and PT you see being shocked, and some of them even blurting out “those are the worst knees I’ve ever seen.”

Imagine being in pain every single day. There are no ups and downs…just downs and not so downs. Some days it just throbs. It’s just there. Other days, you can barely get out of bed, barely walk.

Imagine that ice doesn’t help. That the celebrex you take every day doesn’t help. That the only thing that takes the edge off is narcotics, but you’re terrified that if you take them when you need them, you’ll get hooked…maybe not the drugs themselves, but to not feeling as much pain.

Imagine you have one last hope. Incredibly painful injections (3-5 weeks of injections) directly into your knees. These injections, while partially covered by insurance, cost you hundreds of dollars out of pocket as well. When you get them, you’re not allowed to do ANYTHING active or carry ANYTHING for 48 hours afterwards. Imagine being the youngest person in Colorado EVER approved to get these injections…and knowing that *if* they work, you’ll have to re-do them every 6 months for the rest of your life.

Imagine that they don’t work. Nothing changes. The pain stays the same, or gets a little worse. You try to comfort yourself; at least you’re saving yourself the hundreds, nay thousands are dollars that it would cost to get them…and the pain of the needles….and the time of going to the doctors. Because you’re already going to PT twice a week, and that takes up enough time.

Imagine that you’re told it’s time to give up. Imagine that three separate people have told you that the pain is never going to go away. Ever going to go away. If anything, it’ll get worse. That there will be lows and plateaus, but that you will always be in constant pain. That even if the nerves are cut, and even when you get knee replacements (which, once you get insurance, will be before you are thirty), your brain will be so used to the pain that it doesn’t matter what you do, you will still feel it, like phantom pain in amputees.

Imagine you’re told that the next 60 or so years of your life will have this pain. That unless you die or get addicted to pain killers, there is nothing you can do. You just have to suck it up and deal with changing you life.

Imagine being told you can’t run. You can’t kneel. You shouldn’t climb stairs. You should ice your knees every night. Never squat. When it rains, things will feel worse. When it snows, things will feel worse.

Imagine being 22 and having arthritis, on top of all of this. Imagine feeling like you’re already 80, and being terrified of what will come as you age. Imagine trying to imagine living with pain for four times your current life span. Imagine wondering if you can handle it, or thinking about whether you should just quit now.

Imagine trying to make jokes and put a sunny face on it….so it doesn’t seem as real, so that your friends don’t get sick of you being a party pooper, so that your life doesn’t completely and utterly revolve around the pain in your body. Imagine crying yourself to sleep a few times a month, knowing that this will never change. That it wasn’t a car accident, or drunk driving, or any sport, or anything YOU did. Imagine wondering what you did in life to deserve this.

Imagine being me. Because right now, it feels pretty fucking awful.”