From here on forward this area will be reserved for the CliffNotes version of what is explained below in my posts for people who prefer brevity. I got wrecked in a vehicle collision and I now suffer from CRPS. In less than two weeks I will begin my trial of DRG stimulation.
I should be dead. From what I've experienced, dying only hurts if you live. It has been three years and four days since it happened. Last June, one of my many doctors said that it had been only a ‘relatively short amount of time.’ As an individual who has been suffering from chronic pain due to someone else’s negligence, I can tell you that one day feels like an eternity and completely unfair, but so is life. I’ll never forget January 14, 2016, but I’ll also never remember it, except for one thing. The only memory I have of that day was my wife and I discussing the death of Alan Rickman that occurred earlier that morning. Rickman is most famous for playing the role of Professor Snape in the Harry Potter movies and, more importantly to me, my pick for the best villain in cinema history as Hans Gruber in “Die Hard.” Beyond that, I can’t remember two weeks before or two weeks after that date in January of 2016.
When I first started waking from my haze of drug induced reality, I found myself on a hospital bed unable to move due to weakness and fatigue. I asked a woman wearing scrubs who was checking my life monitoring electronic equipment if I was dead. She laughed nervously, as if I had startled her, and said that ‘no,’ I was ‘alive of course.’ It was a poor attempt of trying to sound positive.
My memories of that time are scrambled and hard to put in the correct order of when they happened or if they ever happened at all. I remember panicking and becoming hysterical because I didn’t want another CT scan. The recorded robotic sounding voice that instructed me not to move while the machine fired up terrified me, not that I could move if I wanted to because I was just too weak. I had a fever of 104 degrees due to an infection, probably just days after my last dose of Haldol and my brain was not working, like when you have the flu and it’s going to get worse before getting better. I saw a flock of small dragons soaring above my bed as I hid under the sheets. At one point I was ushered down a dark hall while traveling on a gurney through swinging double doors into the bright light of outside. It was terribly cold and I asked the person transporting me if the virus had reached our area yet. I was referring to the zombie virus, of course. I hoped the cold temperatures were freezing the zombies solid in place, which was slowing the spread of the virus into our region. That’d give me a chance at least to get stronger before they thawed in the springtime. That tube which was shoved down my esophagus appeared to be too long when they removed it from my throat and it hurt so bad. I was so thirsty and nobody would give me a drink because my throat muscles were too weak. I remember watching an X-Ray of myself swallowing on a monitor and it looked so Sci-Fi. My abdomen was stapled shut in two separate spots. I couldn’t find my daughter. Wait, I have a kid? How old am I? A woman kept visiting me at the hospital(s) and she was usually there to escort me between rooms and buildings. I must’ve asked her the same questions over and over. One time her and I watched a movie together on a laptop in my hospital bed that starred Will Ferrell, but it couldn’t have been real because the movie we watched wasn’t a comedy and this woman was out of my league but she seemed so familiar. If you are ever worried your brain is broken find a clock with the mechanical hands and see if you can figure out the time. Or try to write something down on paper. It’s scary as hell when you can't. Oh, and that goddamn pain I had! It felt as if the Devil was caressing my foot in a pool of lava while smashing it with a sledgehammer over and over and over. I tried to express the feeling of pain I was having, but nobody truly understood. Eventually, my fever broke and the lines in the wood grain stopped moving and I was able to convey my suffering to those around me.
I was transported back to the rehabilitation hospital after a second visit to the ICU and the infection was under control. I finally understood that I was involved in a multiple vehicular accident. A distracted driver slammed into the back of my car while I was waiting to turn left on a two-lane country road. The point of impact angled my car right into the path of an 18-wheeler and I was hit head-on by the semi-truck and then by two more SUVs that were traveling behind the vehicle that initially ran into me.
My seatbelt worked so well that it fractured my pelvis into three separate pieces. My X-rays reveal over a dozen surgical screws that hold me together. I'm going to blow the mind of whoever cremates my body and sees all the metal left behind in my ashes. I received three new scars. The most impressive is the one that begins just below my ribcage and goes four inches below my belly button. That one really stands out because I had internal bleeding from a perforated bowel that had to be repaired immediately after arriving at the hospital via lifeline helicopter. There was no time to make a clean surgical cut. I also had that TBI from the multiple concussions I was subjected to from colliding with four different vehicles. I hope I never develop CTE. And then there is the neuropathy, specifically damage to my sympathetic nervous system.
I was a mess, but my foot pain was/is the apex. One of the doctors that first saw me in the rehabilitation hospital hypothesized that I may be suffering from Chronic Regional Pain Syndrome, or CRPS. Learning to walk again was hard, not because of pelvic pain, but because with every step I took, even to this day, hurts so damn bad. It feels like walking barefoot on LEGO. Over time that pain has decreased, but it’s still there. Every time I’m asked of my pain level I answer "3" or "4," even if it’s an 8. The first step out of bed every morning is the pits and it continues with each step after. It is a constant reminder of what is wrong with me and what happened to me.
I’ve been told CRPS is a diagnosis of exclusion. Well, after three years and tens of thousands of dollars spent on CT scans, MRIs, blood tests, surgeries, a vein stent, 47 days between two hospitals, rehabilitation, PICC lines, nearly a year of physical therapy, medications, antibiotics, a month long pain program, and five nerve blocks (that essentially did nothing), my latest doctor has finally fully diagnosed me with CRPS.
Since I've finally been 'officially' diagnosed I can finally begin a new treatment. In less than two weeks I will have surgery to begin my trial of Dorsal Root Ganglion stimulation. From what I understand, I will have temporary leads placed into my back that connect to the sympathetic nerves that are sending bad signals to my brain. My brain is telling me my foot hurts so, so bad. I will be able to control the signals with an electronic battery device that is controlled by a BlueTooth remote, such as an I-Phone. The hope is that my brain will stop receiving those incorrect messages that I’m in pain.
I’m worried about having more surgery. I have fears of placing a foreign electronic device into my body by choice. What if it shorts out and I’m electrocuted and I can’t stop it? I will have to be cut open every few years for a new battery. What if the inevitable apocalypse happens and it needs to be taken out? I told my wife she’ll have to grab the Exact-O knife and cut it out. I don't want to rely on something like this, it's the reason I cold turkey quit my 3,200 mg daily dose of Gabapentin. What if my device is hacked by the Russians and I'm programmed to destroy our country? Terminators will be on my side at least. Even though I’m anxious about this treatment, the pain I’ve endured and will continue to endure if I do nothing has made me want to take this next step. I created this blog for myself and for others who just want to know more about DRG stimulation. I’ll try to journal this experience as best as I can with words and illustrations. Please feel free to ask me questions or share your experiences.
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