Tomorrow I have my next appointment at the pain clinic, so I’m doing what I always do and writing up my pain journal at the very last minute. Somehow I find that, while I’m sitting here typing or lying in my bed clicking away on my laptop on the subject of pain, I feel more pain! Go figure, eh? Maybe it’s because writing about pain is a real pain.
I know, you saw that one coming a mile away. But really, I’ve been trying to focus on other things, to put my chronic pain out of my mind as much as possible, so that I don’t continually have to think about just how much freakin’ excruciating pain I’m in all the freakin’ time!!! OK, got THAT out of my system…anyway, I have always been kind of last minute about the whole pain journal thing, but I’d make entries every couple of weeks or so, keeping the running total and that idiotic numbering system in my medium-term memory.
I understand that trying NOT to think about chronic pain can make it worse (white bears…white bears…don’t think about them), but somehow, focusing on how much I hurt makes me feel like, damn! I hurt pretty bad! Nevertheless, I’ve got my assignment, and I’ve got to finish it and hand it in to the teacher, er, doctor, tomorrow.
Even just writing this little post about how much I hate to write the pain journal seems to have resulted in a major increase in sciatica pain for me this evening. Or maybe the sciatica was already bad, and because I have to focus on this task I’d rather not do, it seems worse than it is. But I don’t know, it seems to break into everything I’ve tried to do; it is the Sciatica That Would Not Be Denied.
OK, sciatica, you win. I’ve got to get some sleep, if Little Miss Diva Sciatica will LET ME! That’s all for tonight, folks. It’s been real — ‘night y’all!
UPDATE: All that kvetching for nothing! Woke up this morning, and my appointment was cancelled! Guess I’ll have to reschedule my next night-before complaining session. Thanks for reading!
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