Isn't it amazing how time flies? It slips from our fingers like tiny, slippery grains of sand. 6 months since my last entry and so many wonderful things have entered my life. Adventures, triumphs and even a new love have engulfed me like a welcoming warm blanket. I promise more detail about these things in the near future but today I need to talk about my recent experience with, that ever sexy and titillating subject....sciatic nerve pain.
A little over 3 weeks ago I woke up with a little tension in my lower back. Nothing out of the ordinary caused this pain, no heavy rock lifting or super human antics. Just sleep. Yes, I was betrayed by my fancy new bed. I suppose I should have kept the bag of rocks and straw I'd been sleeping on. Well, hindsight..and all that jazz. By that evening I was couched and flat on my back wincing at every little twist and turn. It hurt when I was still, it hurt when I was moving, you get my point. The next morning I simply could not get out of bed. I truly thought that it would vanish with a little advil and a good nights sleep. That day is when my numb toes arrived and I knew I was having my first attack of sciatica. My Father has suffered with this condition for years and I've watched him struggle and fight through it like the true champion he is. I had no idea this is what he was going through and now have first hand knowledge of his experience. It is dreadful. I spent the next few days holed up and suffering. Remember, dear friends, I live on the 3rd floor of a walk up building. I was trapped. Ron was on a gig and I was alone in the house. I think it took me 3 or 4 days to admit to anyone that I was down for the count. Even then I kept a lot of the gruesome details to myself. Suffering in a self pity soup for days on end. Miserable. Lots of screaming, tears and "why mes" rained down upon the streets of upstate manhattan.
I was well cared for on the weekends by my wonderful beau, Brad. He was a force of nature, cooking, cleaning, shopping and ice bagging for me. What a blessing he is. The weekdays were much harder. Although I really did not want any witnesses to my situation I admit those days dragged on. I've never been confined to bed for so long. More than two minutes on my feet brought on an excruciating radiation of pain down my leg. Think charlie horse, times 10. Unbearable.
During these past few weeks the anniversary of my Mother's passing occurred. It seems unbelievable that 3 years have passed so quickly. That elusive life beach of slippery sand flows so quickly. My thoughts rest with Mom so often. Even more during this period. My Mother spent the better part of the last year of her life in bed. After her first surgery she never fully healed and the disease just attacked her from every angle and took her from us one piece at a time. In this time I never once saw my Mother reduced to the places I went these past weeks. I saw her frustrated, angry and hesitant but honestly, the full blown melt down I experienced was not pretty folks. I'm sure Mom had her private moments. But, her strength and grace were simply outer worldly and I have no idea how she survived it for as long as she did. Simply put, she was the strongest person I've ever known.
The worst betrayal in the world in one that involves your own body. I've been a lucky woman. I'm generally healthy and strong. I've had a few spills on stage but for the most part I've been so fortunate. I was simply at a loss when Ron returned home. Stuck in bed for weeks and the pain just seemed to persist in a most pervasive way. No relief, even with drugs, stretching, rest, ice...it all just seemed so futile.
Then I stepped outside of my comfort zone and did something I rarely do. I posted about it on facebook. Within a few minutes my inbox and comments were filled with well wishes, prayers and suggestions for doctors, acupuncturist, massage therapists etc. It was a miracle. I cannot understate this. I don't speak about my faith very often. It is such a personal journey for me. God and I spent a lot of time together these few weeks. Mostly me screaming and questioning. Bringing up biblical healing and wondering what I had done to be forsaken so. I never claimed not to be a drama queen, even one of biblical proportions. When the deafening silence became to much I broke down and vented into cyberspace and every prayer was answered. I've now met a most amazing massage therapist who comes to my apartment to help me. He's a good Texas boy, West Texas A&M graduated, TEXAS musical veteran, and I can not overstate how valuable our sessions have been. I now have connections to all sorts of professionals to help me with this issue.
As a singer I play my cards very close to my vest when it comes to personal matters. It seems so strange to be in a profession that demands emotional vulnerability on stage and autonomy off of it. It's also just in my nature to be private and not ask anything of anyone. It's an art form, asking for help, and I am not a very good artist when it comes to that. I suppose I equate it to weakness which is something I abhor, especially in myself. My perspective has changed. God did heal me, in a most unexpected way. He broke down one of my most impenetrable walls and led me to ask for help. This is much bigger than a little jolt to my hip. Mysterious ways are his trademark.
As to my healing, I'm better. Still sore, and mornings are an adventure but I'm walking and even have left the apartment, once. It was 22 degrees and snow filled and the most beautiful day I've experienced! I have a gig next week, Beethoven's wonderful 9th symphony, and I know I will be just fine. Now to transfer my new found help seeking skills into my everyday life. I would never balk at helping anyone in need in anyway I can. It is absurd to shirk at the idea of reaching out myself. I'm a believer folks and I have one almighty power to thank for putting all you amazing people in my life.
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