The chiropractor would snap crackle pop my back
Pat me on the shoulder, say ice and rest, see you in 3 days.
He was the only one who would substantiate the reality of my pain
But he could never get rid of it.
During the day I struggled in silence only telling those closest to me
That the feelings I had in my neck were so intense that I knew something
Had to be wrong. But who am I but the owner of the pain and one doctor after another doctor and pawning me off on yet another doctor kept
telling me that Tylenol and ice would fix my problem.
Twenty four hours kept rolling over into another twenty four hours
And never- not even for a moment did I get relief.
And this went on for years as it became clear that none of the doctors
Believed the reality of my pain. They would read my chart,
See the history of my mental health, read all the pharmaceuticals
I had been on or still was taking and my words became empty.
The validity of what I said was tarnished, false, or just conjured up in a brain they assumed was unable to distinguish between what was real and what was made up in my head. But let me be clear- having bipolar disorder or any mental health issue does not negate physical pain.
Finally one doctor said Let’s get an MRI “just in case”
but never discussed what “just in case” meant.
The cold slab ushered me in a tomb like structure
With noises so loud headphones hardly helped.
I wanted to writhe as the pain magnified, but I was determined to
Lay still to get an accurate picture of something I
Knew had to be real.
The follow up could not come quickly enough
but the wheels of time in the medical community
Are not even close to reality- a reality where a patient
Lives with a thousand questions hoping to get answers.
Finally answers came and a report was concluded that
My spinal cord was caught in my vertebrae- a highly
Dangerous diagnosis as spinal cord injuries can lead to
All kinds of paralysis and even death.
Now the wheels of medicine moved at a pace so rapid
I could hardly keep up. Race to the neurosurgeon, get
Insurance approval, book an operating room, schedule surgery.
For the first time I was believed and my worst fears were correct-
I had always felt something was seriously wrong and it was.
Eight hours on my back, my neck cut open by some incredibly
Steady hands, my vertebrae removed and replaced
With titanium baskets and finished up with a plate
That fused it all together. I would now face limitations
But the unrelenting pain would cease.
For two weeks I remained house bound in order
Not to disrupt the delicate procedure that would bring me relief.
For six months I wore a very hot and cumbersome collar
But I was not taking any chances. This was my one chance to get it right.
Years later I’m so grateful to the machine that is the MRI
Because it didn’t let me down as I had been so many times before.
I got the truth from a doctor saying “just in case”. I don’t know how
to change a broken system or how to teach people
that individuals with mental health problems do in fact have pain
Which is most likely caused by a physical condition and not a mental one.
If I could scream from a roof top or from the pinnacle of a mountain
“We suffer from pain! Believe us!” I would. But time after time and ailment
After ailment I am doubted, I am questioned, I am disregarded
and unfortunately it can entirely endanger one’s life and can even lead to death.
Wake up people, mental illness should not be and must not be equated with lies. I can guarantee you that by the time we finally drag ourselves to a doctor and risk being labeled and unheard we are immensely physically unhealthy. Furthermore being in pain plays a huge part on our already fragile mental health. We become more depressed, more anxious, and more confused as our bodies now betray us and there is no system in place to correct it.