tammyoler.com

The Gift of Injury

I’ve been contending with chronic back pain for nearly two years now, and it’s been hard to think of it as anything but a condition, a curse, and a limitation.  But as the holidays take hold and I reflect (again) on the many, many blessings of my life, it occurs to me that I’ve recently begun to understand this injury as a kind of gift.  Not all the time, and not always happily, of course.  But it is a gift, of sorts, from the universe.

Did You Miss Me? by Sam Brown (http://www.explodingdog.com/title/didyoumissme.html)

My disc problem is somewhat mysterious in origin, but it is a clear reflection of the way I’ve lived my life: prolonged days of sedentary work and too much stress, punctuated by full contact sports and high-intensity workouts.  A willful abandonment of rest and health in high-adrenaline times. Too much human doing and not enough human being.  I probably could and should have started my recovery a full six months before I hobbled into the doctor’s office.  Instead, I toughed it out and tried to prove how tough I was by schlepping around couches and working around-the-clock on freelance projects.

Now, though, I can’t afford to be that tough.  I have to stretch everyday. I have to leave my chair. I have to rest – really rest.  I have to ask for help.  And that’s the worst!  I can’t carry the weight I used to – not in workload, groceries, or self-reliance.   For the first year, I was pretty despondent and obsessed with what I couldn’t do anymore: no more skating or extreme sports; no more heavy lifting; no more toughing it out.

I may never quite get over what I’m not able to do, but I’ve started to focus instead on what this pain gives me: a clear sense of what’s reasonable, a reason to stop and rest, and a not-so-gentle reminder to be gentle with myself and ask for help. How could that not be a gift?

I have bad days and good days.  Sometimes, I can go a whole month with limited pain, but I still find myself ouching around for a week or so at a time.  I have to be accountable to my healing, and sometimes that’s a drag.  I have no idea if there’s an end in sight.  I will not consider surgery, and I bristle at the recommendation. Stretching, resting, strengthening, listening and reaching out: this is the way I feel better.

So I will count this injury among the many gifts I’ve had in my life, and allow it to motivate me to keep healing and to support others in the new year and beyond.