Sunday, February 28, 2010

A Victim Soul's Ouch

This is about as close a connection, photo-wise, I can make to my spine. Have to admit that about now I'm looking back over the last couple of years and realize the pain has just crept up on me and wrapped its limbs around me.

Yes, had the severe pain sieges as I have had for years, come and grab me from behind and throw me into bed and nearly out of my head with agony. But I'd get better and keep going, simply keep going.

Now, for a couple of weeks, the body was tossed into bed and mind out of it with pain, and as in the six weeks around Christmas, big black-outs with some details poking out, sort of like the little twig-tips that stick out from this Weeping Purple Fountain Beech.

But this time I could not pull out and force up and out and even to Mass. Nope. And had to take pain meds on regular regimen, and couldn't even get to my doctor in nearby town. So a friend recommended her GP and drove me the five-max miles. And he didn't know me, and the pain was so bad I couldn't even focus to do a good job of communicating, however, I still function and probably look far better than I am. My friend did say this time it showed in my face and eyes.

The doctor gave me some meds that had awful side effects and are 38% effective with people with fibromyalgia. Not wanting to be non-compliant to some other ideas he had, I tried these as he gave me samples. Bad idea. For one thing, I don't have fibromyalgia, and the side effects, for another thing, are the PITS. I lasted out these nasty pills three days but in the meantime awoke one morning being able to focus and think, and knew the pain was too much in the upper back to be "normal" for me, which is far from normal after all these years of constant suffering. So I called and said, "You guys don't know me, and I don't know you, but I can tell you this is not like me--not like me to have to take so much strong pain med, and not like me to have this high a degree of pain in upper back, and not like me to not be able to cope with it. And I can't this time. So I think I really do need a scan of the upper back."

That worked. They took an MRI that afternoon. A friend suggested I ask for a Medrol dose pack (prednisone), and with wan hope I got that and took it, and it did seem to ease the thing a bit, but not enough to function. But I was grateful and still hoped it would just be muscles over-used. But the MRI results were mine to peruse on Monday last, and in the meantime this new GP wanted me to get a work up from a pain spec. So a friend carted me to that doctor Tuesday a.m., and the tech mostly saw me, asked the questions I've answered for years, but did so patiently as she didn't know my history. The doctor came in after seeing my MRI, and asked which doctor I wanted to be referred to, and I said which of the two he named. The pain doc is one that I'll not go back to see, anyway, as he was sadly and unmistakenly RUDE in the three or four minutes we were in proximity. Amazing how rude a person can be in three statements. I did not react to him, though, and left him on a cheery note. And am praying for him now and then, for dear friends, this is why we encounter people who are rude or otherwise not resonating well: We are supposed to pray for them, and if they are praying people, we can pray they pray for us. All peace on earth. All PEACE on EARTH. Forevermore. But if I ever have to go to a pain specialist again for any reason, which is unlikely, it will not be this one. Prudence.

So I have been in bed, on sofa, and toddling about my little place here, able to be up not many minutes and only if medicated. A couple of friends have checked in via phone and brought in the few supplies needed. Amazing how very little we need of the commercial world, truly. Every couple of days or so I test the stamina and pain level and walk to the mailbox at the end of my very short drive. I did so this morning, as I also tried the grand experiment of no pain med upon waking, with hopes this thing is not so bad, after all. But it is bad, and I ended up having to take more than usual pain med plus a strong muscle relaxant, not that it is a muscle problem. My doctor in the nearby town had given me these in December in case I had a siege I could not handle, and these would help along with the pain meds, to give me a home-KO [knock-out, for non-boxer fans, of which I am a non but know the term].

Tomorrow morning I am being driven to the neurosurgeon, another 5 max-mile journey, and my friend advised me to take pain pills prior. Well, yes. I learned my lesson this morning.

And all this to say again to anyone who has read my blogs, that I am so very sorry for any of the ups and downs, any grumpiness, any less-than-gracious writing. It is the PAIN. It is the PAIN. I have been trying to function, increasingly less and less, with too much PAIN. And now I know the reason and cause, and am praying it can be remedied, at least to get me back to the otherwise low spine PAIN that has been my lot in life for nearly 26 years, and ever will be. Nothing more to be done with that. Had more than plenty done already.

And this morning the mailbox yielded a book I'd ordered awhile back, and has been sitting in the mailbox a couple days until I could gut it out to fetch it. The Cross and the Joy: Marthe Robin. Not a huge book, but a book about a 20th century victim soul who lived and died in France. Might report here, or on my web page. Am having some issues uploading the blogs on my web site, so the high school senior computer genius is working on that snafu as I write, from his home yonder 30 miles or so.

The good news is that he did write a program that will block a few blugs who have been far too interested in what I write on these blogs. He could write a program to block them from these, but I said the main thing is to protect the web site from unnecessary intrusion, as well as to protect the blugs from even more seemingly obsessive log-ons and unnecessary fixation and detraction.

Amidst all these little details of daily life, I am praying for the faith and courage to suffer with great belief that somehow, even in my human imperfections, the Lord is utilizing all this pain for His glory, for souls, for my soul, too. Especially for the people I am shown to pray for, the people who are rude without realizing, or who have opposing viewpoints and can't quite seem to accept that they have opposing viewpoints and it is all right to have opposing viewpoints, and people who are in major need such as the souls in Haiti, Chile, and elsewhere with extreme pain and injuries, no meds, no doctors, no friends with cars to drive them to doctors, and no possibility of getting their ailments repaired.

All this extreme pain is a very good reminder that victim souls' pain is very real, very painful, and yet one must keep a sense of humor, have compassion, be forgiving, prayerful, and also comprehend and teach others to comprehend, that victim souls are very, very human.

God bless all of you who are suffering, and pray for me, please, for this Lenten Purge to do its work, and for me to pray and cooperate with God in this suffering, and to offer it all for Him and for souls.

Tuesday, February 09, 2010

Suffering Blog Sensitivities

An e-friend e-mailed giving a perspective on how it is for some reading blogs. Mentioned some suffer from various mental illnesses. Struggle. So read blogs and might not react in ways blogger intends to relate content or how others not suffering from mental illnesses or would react.

The blog phenomenon is something to consider. I do not read blogs, usually, but on occasion read one by an artist in MN. If tired and in lots of pain, that blog can either make me laugh or else feel like the web site I'm working on is pointless and worthless.

Of course, the artist's blog site does not "make" me feel that way. I make myself feel that way. This evening I was laughing hilariously at some items on his blog site. And I'm in loads of pain. The one time I felt like my web site is pointless and worthless is when I realized I am a neophyte at web site development, and that is why a high school senior comes over now and then and helps me know what to do. Otherwise I'd not have any web site.

But back to those who suffer mental illnesses and who read blogs. My e-friend said she stopped reading a blog that upset her.  A friend of hers encouraged her to stop reading it because it only upset her.

Truly, it is the responsibility of the reader to read or not read someone's blog, and if that blog is upsetting, drop it. I rather think that blogs are so self-revealing to others than oneself, that it is perhaps silly to read blogs, other than if one needs some laughs or just wants people's opinions and viewpoints, for blogs are journals journaling opinions and viewpoints.

Very little raw fact. For that we go to research sites online. Some blogs do give data, but usually if not always, the data is then analyzed from the blogger's viewpoint, and opinions offered, no matter how carefully packaged.

I have to admit to having some laughs about some people who read my blogs and take them perhaps a bit too seriously. I guess I had not considered the likelihood that some of the readers suffer from mental illnesses or diagnosable personality disorders. So I am very sorry that what I have written has stirred some to aggravated upset, or that I was insensitive to the reality of their illnesses.

My own suffering has come through in some of my blogs, such as that of much physical pain which can affect the total being. There was a reason why in centuries past, people would drink whiskey, pull their hair out, beat their heads against log cabin log walls, or Italianate home brick walls, or even adobe hut walls--and probably igoo ice walls. Some pioneers probably shot themselves when the suffering became too much to bear.

I was just reading about victim soul Marthe Robin who was paralyzed for 50 years. Her suffering included not producing saliva so not being able to eat, and not being able to sleep. Yes, that was a tremendous suffering. The paralysis, while not painful, was a suffering. To be moved, however, when her mother and another relative changed the bedding, caused excrutiating pain for Marthe. Also, at a certain point, she began suffering the Passion from Thursday through Friday or so, and that was very painful.

What I read mentioned that Marthe suffered all with much joy.

I was thinking about that when the doorbell rang, and I had to get up out of bed to let in the high school computer genius. I had retreated to bed an hour before, had to take pain meds, had to get a grip on the increasing sense of despair, which always glides in when the pain rises. The high school boy helped distract, and there was some laughter. I did mention the pain thing, though, and Marthe Robin, and how perhaps intellectually one could recognize the joy in suffering when one realizes one is suffering for and with Christ, for souls, for love. But, and the high school boy brought this point to the fore: in the hours, days, weeks, months, years of constant pain, pain, pain, is there an emotional joy?

Well, not here, not yet, not all the time. On occasion, yes there is the emotional joy, but that is usually when the Lord brings a consolation of some soul who has been altered for the better for whom one has suffered, if the Lord has even let the victim soul know the circumstances, which usually He does not. Or, there is an emotional joy when the Lord eases the suffering and lets the victim soul know He is close, and He and the victim soul will make it through yet another severe ordeal.

But otherwise, suffering can be quite a grind, and the Little Flower wasn't fooling when she mentioned that if her medications had been left by her bed stand, she would have taken more than she should. Thankfully, they were not left within her reach.

But maybe someday, maybe I will suffer all with much joy, all the time, an intellectual, emotional, and spiritual joy--all the time. Most likely that will be after I've been in purgatory, at the time when I hopefully get to heaven. I'm a realist about suffering after these many years, even if suffering as a victim soul, for Jesus knows all about it, all about suffering. Love Him!

Anyway, blogs can be a source of suffering for people, if they don't agree with the opinions or viewpoints, and also if they start to see what the blogger him-or herself does not or seems to not see in him- or herself that is annoying. Chances are, the blogger sees, but keeps writing, anyway. And readers have the responsibility to themselves, for their own mental, emotional and maybe even physical health, to not read blogs. Web logs, they are, just that, nothing more.

Although the man who has such an artistic blog writes opinions that I usually agree with, wrote a blog about how people writing blogs are sometimes elevated to authority status, when they really are not. And I suppose that can be confusing and upsetting to readers.

Are they called "bleaders"--these blog readers? Regardless, I appreciate my e-friend for writing and explaining how blogs can affect the "bleaders" (like that coined word!) and especially if the bleader is suffering in some way, mentally, emotionally, or physically.

And in sensitivity but yet in a need to write thoughts, viewpoints in journalistic fashion, I have turned to developing a website that encapsulates various aspects of my anonymous earthly existence, and it is totally private, hidden, and God alone brings eyes to it. In this way, bleaders will not have to suffer.

Big snowstorm here all day. Am practicing a little
on the harp, "What a Friend We Have in Jesus" and "The Glory of These Forty Days", also editing consumer complaints, as well as wrote and wrote and wrote my soul out in a protected environment.