We’re in a very exclusive club no one has the desire to be in
I hear you there @RingoStar. Most people don’t like to hear about other people’s health problems. Especially if they’ve never experienced any major health concerns themselves. I probably used to qualify as just such a person.
Someone in the professional office space can complain to a degree about chronic shoulder pain or chronic neck pain and get people to listen in for a while. But chronic pain in the private areas of the body is quite another story. I’ve always been an open book so to speak, wearing my emotions and trials mostly on my sleeve. But I’ve had to learn to scale this one back considerably to avoid misunderstandings or even complaints.
I have a select few friends and family that have shown a mature, genuine, and persistent interest in my ongoing welfare and hoped-for recovery. I’m thankful for them because without them this would be a lonely road to ply.
Today was a better day than yesterday. I worked a full eight hours, mostly while standing or stretching at my desk with some sitting occasionally. For some reason the sitting seems to cause more discomfort with occasional stabs of pain that last fractions of a second here and there and strike me unexpectedly throughout the day.
I used to look at people in my workspace who had standing desks and think they were out of their minds. I am beginning to ask myself, “I wonder how I get one of those?”
Your pains at the connection site are certainly normal, this sensation will continue to evolve and change over time. You may have bad days, sometimes for no apearent reason, keep yourself in a good mental place as best you can. Keep positive brother.
Thanks for the encouraging word. I am down to 1/1/1 on the Gabapentin starting tomorrow. We’ll see where my pain levels take me as I continue to taper off that final medication.
I kept my reversal journal here Reversal scheduled for 13th of Aug
Been updating it fairly regularly and tried to keep it as detailed as I could, hopefully may come in handy in figuring out recovery timescales
Those were my encouraging words to you @Chuvak
I remember the days of wearing jockstraps on top of boxer briefs making me feel like I was wearing a diaper while at work. Meanwhile, I had some nasty co-worker gal telling me she was going to force her husband to have a vasectomy. I about lost my job over that one.
I could go on and on. Couldn’t we all? I’m sure many of us could.
Hang in there bro.
Thanks for the good laughs @RingoStar! LOL. It’s nice to have a peanut gallery to cheer me on and lighten the mood amidst the desperate days of chronic pain.
I was born and raised in Alaska. I’ve lived in a lot of different places since I graduated high school there and every state I have lived in during my lifetime since has had unique threats of natural disaster. In Alaska it was earthquakes. In Oregon it was flooding due to constant rains. In Philadelphia it was crime; oh wait, that’s man made, not natural. Anyway, in South Carolina we were constantly suffering through extended power outages as we were barraged by hurricanes (and we were two hours inland at that). In Iowa, where I now live, we had to lovingly hold and reassure our three year old son every first Wednesday of the month when the tornado warning tests blared across the city from strategically positioned loud speakers mounted to some telephone or utility pole or another on every other street corner.
Going back to my youth in Alaska, I’ll never forget the reaction these fairly common earthquakes had on my mom when I was a kid. If a small earthquake struck at three in the morning and it was of sufficient length, my mom would hurriedly gather up her children and urgently corral them to various places of safety. Usually this was under a door jam between our bedrooms and the hallway. There we would wait it out. I think we never quite understood as kids why my mom reacted relatively extremely to a little tremor. But now I do.
Anyone who has spent a sufficient number of years down here on planet earth in this fragile mortal existence has suffered trauma of some type or another that impacts them to this day. For me, one of those was having to quit a job under threat of being fired when I was just 22 years old. Although that happened over twenty years ago, to this very day if my boss asks unexpectedly to see me in his office, just a little bit of panic sets in. I panic in about the same way my mom reacted to these little tremors that we as kids thought were novel, if not even a bit fun. But why did she react that way? I believe it is because she lived through the trauma of the destructive 1964 Good Friday earthquake in southeast Alaska as a ten or twelve year old kid.
Another form of trauma I suffered only recently in my life sprang from the terrifying spasms of pain I suffered regularly in the first two months following my initial surgery back in November 2019. I think I knew full well prior to an event that occurred last night that I had suffered trauma from these former bouts of nearly indescribable pain, but now I know for sure I did. If I am deathly frightened of the prospects of ever being fired again from a job due to my experience of passing through unemployment, then I am forever scarred by the indelible effects of shocks of spiking chronic pain reverberating through my private parts. This reality struck me undeniably last night when my three year old son, who was playing innocently on the bed I was laying on suddenly jerked one of his heels back and struck me on the left side of my groin with a moderate degree of force.
I suppose my reaction was a bit like my mom’s reaction to those earthquakes as a kid. I buried my face in the comforter of the bed, gripped those same blankets in a closed fist with my left hand, and cried hard for several minutes. My three and six year old boys didn’t know what to make of the situation. They sort of laughed and asked why daddy was fake crying. If the main strike from my son’s foot was the initial earthquake, then the unnerving shocks of pain that went through my left side in the minutes to follow were the frightening aftershocks. I wasn’t sure what to be more scared of, a spoiled $8500 surgery, or the prospects of ever having to face the same kinds of devastating spasms of pain I experienced on and off for two straight months of my life not too many months ago. I think my reaction and tears were more of shock at what had just happened than they were of pain. I was psychologically and physically broken by my journey with pain after my original surgery. I am scared of pain. I was traumatized by pain.
The good news is I only suffered about two or three aftershocks of pain last night down my left side. I went immediately to bed with an ice pack and seem to be doing okay this morning. We’ll see what this new day holds for me.
Hang in there man you are doing okay
Dude get a standing desk. It made my pain at work dramatically better. They’re good for you regardless of pvps. They can be had for a few hundred. If your boss is cheap play the medical condition or disability card because it is a very reasonable accommodation. You are nearly entitled to one by law.
Fortunately, my employer provides standing desks free of charge to anyone who asks. I’ve seen quite a few of them set up though in the various offices I have worked at for my employer over the years. I’m not quite sure how one would fit at my desk the way the cubical is set up though.
Sounds like an opportunity for a cube upgrade?
I am beginning to hope this coronavirus pandemic compels my employer to send me home with pay for a few weeks. That would help preserve my diminishing sick leave balance and give me some much needed respite.
I was coming into too much pain yesterday. My wife recommended I lay low today and give my body the rest it needs after this surgery. She was trying to tell me that all week. I am finally ready to listen.
Since going to bed early last night and laying in bed all morning my pain had almost all but disappeared, whereas I was getting hit with stabbing and electrical shock-type pains on one or both sides throughout the entire day yesterday.
Actually, interestingly enough, I also enjoy writing and that’s something I’ve taken advantage of occupying myself with during recovery. I’ve written children’s stories for my kids and I also write fiction for grownups (mostly short stories and novellas–I don’t have the patience for a full novel). Some writers have writer’s block and can’t think of anything to put down on paper; it’s the opposite for me, as I have an almost unlimited number of ideas and inspirations, but I get spread too thin and have trouble finding the time to complete many of the stories I start. This is all just stuff I do for fun, relaxation, and creative expression. I’m pretty busy most of the time otherwise with 3 kids, my wife, and a full-time job.
Yes, the timing could help with your recovery if they let you work from home. Please be careful not to overdue it–we only get one shot at recovering correctly!
How would I get my hands on some of the stuff you have written?
Oh, I haven’t tried to publish anything, it’s just stuff I’ve been writing and sharing with family. Most of it is unfinished too, although I have completed four stories and have two that are close. I’m starting to look into publishing. Similar to you, I have this passion and need to express myself through writing (and sometimes art). I’ve always enjoyed it since I was a young kid, but it has sat on the back burner for a long time and I’m only recently starting to rekindle it.
Well, if you are willing to share any of your stories with me send me a message offline on this site and perhaps you could email me some of the stuff you have written. I’ve taken an interest in writing since undergoing this terrible trial with chronic pain. I’m not certain I have the creativity just yet to dream up any interesting settings, diverse characters, convincing plots, or sufficient conflict and resolution to capture anyone’s imagination.
I tried that once in my eleventh grade creative writing class and will never forget my teacher pointing out that the dead body that had been floating down the river for two hours could not plausibly be surrounded by blood because the poor sap had been dead for two hours and the blood would have washed away long before that moment. Since that first failed attempt at short-story writing, I’ve never made another another.
But I would be extremely interested in reading what you have come up with if you are willing to share.
I met with my urology specialist today who performed my reversal surgery. Thanks to the ongoing pandemic, the man I once willingly waited two hours to see had all but one other patient waiting on him and his associates in a waiting room made to accommodate a hundred or more patients. I barely finished the two-minute medical questionnaire when the doors opened and the nurse called my name.
Within minutes of being shown to my exam room, the specialist’s assistant emerged. She performed an exam that produced zero sensations on the right side and only the mildest of discomfort on the left side. She said the left side had a bit more swelling than the right but that this was a normal reaction of the body to the surgery.
The doctor entered the room. He and his assistant were genuinely intrigued by my remarkable progress. The doctor remarked, “Well, you were right” (implying the reversal surgery I insisted on undergoing had been the solution to my pain after all).
This past week has seen many positive developments in my path to recovery. I have had stretches here and there over the past few days where I seem to experience absolutely no pain or discomfort. I feel at times, for the first time in over four months, as though I never had the original surgery.
I am still taking it easy, working only two days a week but being paid as though I am working five thanks to the coronavirus. I do a lot of reading, writing, playing games with my kids, cleaning around the house.
I will definitely be listening to what my body has to say over the next few months. I will not push it unnecessarily to its limits. The treadmill and weights are probably a long ways off into the future yet, but that does not matter to me.
What matters to me is that I am mentally logging hours and hours at a time with zero pain. There were many dark days over the past four months when I wondered when, if ever, I would be able to boast of such a thing!