Not sure what to blog about. Just life gets in the way.
At current writing it is currently 1,149 days since the shut down in 2020. It is now 1,094 days since mom died--in fact, tomorrow is the anniversary date. And it's 293 days since my hip was replaced.
In regards to the hip, I'm doing fine. The only limp I have now is related to the foot & ankle injury from my trip to Mexico in May 2019. Damn. Nearly 4 years since the injury, and every step I take with my right foot is problematic, and no doubt is the source of my IT band & Greater Trochanteric Pain Syndrome.
As my regular physiatrist was on maternity leave, I started to see a highly rated foot doc who is nearby. I started seeing him in November after a pain flare started in October; and I stopped seeing him for a multitude of reasons, one such reason was regarding masking compliance. I can live with a hobbled foot, I'm not all that sure I'd be able to live a life of any reasonable quality if I caught COVID.
Touched base with my regular physiatrist about a week ago. New diagnosis to the mix: cubital tunnel syndrome. Just add it to the pile of issues I have, and that I now have to wait AGAIN to get any kind of relief. Xrays done. PT was ordered. Can't get in to see my physical therapist until 5/23, so that's another 19 days until I can START PT, before we can order the MRI, and wait some more until I can get the PRP shot and get some relief--a shot I am paying out of pocket for. Hurry up and wait.
Then there's the issue of the foot, which looks likely I'd need surgical intervention on it. And of course WAIT SOME MORE for that, go through more PT that will only aggravate the situation, etc etc. Meanwhile I've lost function in the foot, and cannot climb stairs with my right foot, and I have to limit my foot steps daily to 3000 or below, because anything more than 3K will put me in the danger zone.
Still going for regular acupuncture appointments weekly, and they provide me a lot of relief, both physical and emotional. The acupuncturist is still masking up and has the air purifier on, so I feel reasonably safe.
Still going for chiropractic appointments 2x a month, and I suspect eventually the chiro will stop wearing his respirator. He went to FL last month, and of course he caught COVID, and kept saying how mild his symptoms were. I suspect he'll eventually lose his fear of the virus as a consequence of the mild symptoms. And the day he stops wearing his respirator will be the last day I see him.
This is the way I've been triaging my care.
I might avoid going for my annual physical at my GP, as their office was sloppy when masking was actually mandated; and I suspect they have already stopped insisting everyone mask up, patients and doctors included. Which means I'll triage my care further, and only see my kidney guy for my meds & any blood work that needs doing. So I've whittled my cadre of docs and specialists down even further. I've moved what appointments I can to June and July and hope for the best. But for appointments such as my ENT or my dentist, I have to remove my mask, and that is problematic for me.
Anyway. So, I'm still dealing with chronic pain from an assortment of issues, sleep deprivation that the pain no doubt contributes to; and I'm still dealing with anxiety and depression and grief. The Trintellix has been helping with the depression, as it's been useful towards keeping me from sobbing daily. The anxiety is still there. And my grief? It's a collection of stuff from the obvious/direct: grieving the loss of my mom; and the indirect grieving the loss of the life I had, grieving the loss of the illusion of family I thought I had, and grieving the luxury of not knowing how truly awful a lot of people are.
Death is the final abandonment. Death is the final rejection. And for someone who has deeply entrenched abandonment and rejection wounds, I cannot process and accept what has happened, as I an continuing to be triggered and wounded time and time again by people I once thought I knew, and once thought I loved or respected, people who have been living their lives as if all of this is over. How can I heal from my mom's death, when the thing that killed her, COVID, is not managed, and is being ignored by everyone of any consequence?
It's taken me until my 50s to get a proper diagnosis, C-PTSD; and it's taken me until recently to realize that my stamina issues and this thing I've come to learn is PEM (post exertional malaise) is related to the C-PTSD. It's a real thing, and I guess I should be kinder on myself. I'm not lazy. There's plenty I want and need to do, but I have to do so in such a way where I'm not compounding my pain.
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