I have experienced physical pain a few times in my life. Sometimes even worse than I have been feeling lately. I wrote a brief summary of my pain experiences once in my blog.
It has got to the point that if I ever had a pain-free moment I would probably sit bolt upright and exclaim “What the feck was that???”
Pain and discomfort that prevents one snatching more than an hour sleep at a time is particularly debilitating. That is how it has been for the last fortnight. I get reasonably comfortable, laying on my right side with a pillow between my knees, the pain subsiding to a dull ache, and finally nod off. Then I awake with a start and a twinge less than an hour later having shifted in my doze. One does not arise refreshed from a night such as that. After a fortnight of them, one just wants to crawl into a corner. So I was already on the verge of seeking medical assistance when yesterday, everything went to hell in a handbasket. By mid morning my knee was ablaze with pain in two different locations around and under the patella, and worse, it was spreading up my thigh and down my calf in an agonising line of fire. The word sciatica popped into my head. On a scale of one to ten (where the original knee injury was 9.1) I would put this at around 8.75. Sufficient to bring tears to my eyes and I had to go outside the office and compose myself. So I made an appointment for that very day, and this time was squeezed into Dr Cronje’s schedule.
Of the three GPs I have seen since coming here, I think I may like him best so far. Even though he laughed off my request for Pethidine. In fact in the end, he did not prescribe any pain medication at all for my knee. Naturally my weight, which has ballooned further since I came to Katanning, is a prime factor in this pain business. Even I know that. I am fully aware I need to eat properly and exercise but the cycle of pain and disability leads to excuses, lack of exercise and overindulgence in comfort food which contributes to weight gain and joint strain and pain. It is a spiral. So I finally acknowledged what I had barely admitted to myself and told him I thought I was probably depressed. I also told him why.
It has been paradoxical to me that I can be in a place I really like, in a job I love, and can present a cheerful face all day at work, and then come home to vegetate and be miserable. And eat. And feel sorry for myself. So I am glad to have admitted my problem. Maybe now I can do something about it, and get on with life. So I am now officially diagnosed as suffering depression, and as of this morning, on medication for it. Lets see how that goes.
Inevitably, before prescribing, Dr Cronje asked if I had thoughts of suicide. I said I most certainly had. That took some honesty to admit. But I told him rejected the idea, because although I had no belief in an afterlife, and did not fear death, I was not keen on the idea of dying. he seemed to think that was good answer. He wrote a prescription for Fluox. I took the first half tablet this morning.
Here’s a curious thing: I got a good night’s sleep last night, and my knee pain, though not gone, has subsided to be barely noticeable.
I was up at 6 this morning, by 9 the laundry was done, the house cleaned and tidied, and this blog written. I am now going shopping for a few items, including a pair of track pants and a birthday gift for a seven year old boy, then off on my bike to Woodanilling to watch the hockey championships.