I am a survivor.  I have to say this to myself some days. Like when I am feeling a little off.  I have many days like this.  I cannot say exactly what it is that hurts or bothers me, but, I just feel, "off".  This morning I went for physical therapy for my neck.  It is feeling a little better.  I can now turn my head without a surge of pain.  I also bought new sheets and put them on the bed.  Making the bed is just one of those tasks that we all need to do.  Since all of my back problems I have avoided it, making Dan do it, or wait until he can do it himself.  Today I did it myself.  It feels like a major accomplishment.  I suppose it is in a way.  God graces me with these little victories.  And they are little, but they seem awfully big to me.  I often count my living a new day as a blessing.  Some days not so much.  Like where I was mentally. Until  I found a  lifeline with a new device called a Neuro-Stimulator.

     I was living in a world of pain, taking only ibuprofen for pain because I didn't want to be considered "addicted" to the narcotic pain meds, as I was when I had visited the Cleveland Clinic.  I was taking a daily antidepressant.  Looking back, I think I was probably saved by that.  I was at a very low point.  It felt as though I was in a large black hole that was getting bigger and I couldn't climb out and was beginning to think that maybe it would be better if I just let it swallow me up.  Then a friend suggested getting in touch with a neurosurgeon about a device she had seen the famous Jerry Lewis praising.  It was called a Neuro-Stimulator.  It looked interesting.  According to Jerry, it saved his life.  Having lived his life doing prat falls, a physical comedy, his back was damaged beyond repair and he was living with day to day pain.  This device was implanted in his back , along with a hand held device.  I decided to look into it.  I had nothing to lose.
     I printed out a sheet with the names of  only a handful of neurosurgeons that did this procedure.  And there was only one in Buffalo at the time.  About and hour away, at Buffalo General Hospital was also the office of Dr. Robert Plunket.  With Dan, we made an appointment.
     The first visit was with a physicians assistance.  We needed my most recent MRI images, and my medical history.  I was excited.  She looked at the images and had read through my reports and said I was a perfect candidate.  She explained that it is a major surgery, and needed to address the issue of body image, as there would be an implanted battery on my left upper buttock.  I laughed when she asked about this. "Have you seen my back?".  She laughed as well and said she just had to ask.  I would need to be cleared by my doctor and have a mental evaluation.  I thought I could get this done without problem.  Although in my mind I knew I was prone to the ever present depression, I truly did not think I needed "counselling".  So, she told me to get these two things done and when I came for the next visit I would meet the doctor and schedule surgery.
     That's not quite how it went.  I went to my doctor.  Having never been to a psychologist before, he recommended a counselor.  I made that appointment and went for a short visit and was told everything checked out fine.
     Then I met Dr. Plunket.  It was the beginning of a 6 year relationship that didn't start out very well.  He came in, introduced himself to me and promptly told me that I would need to have a psychological "test" before I could move forward.  I told him I had already met with a counselor.  He said that my doctor had recommended my seeing someone.  I saw red.  I have a love/hate relationship with my primary care doctor.  We are about the same age and I had started going to him when he was just starting out.  We had children the same ages and I was friends with his wife as well.  I thought he knew me better then to think I needed counselling.  Hadn't I gone off all those meds on my own because of the addiction question?  Hadn't I gone through all these surgeries with him on my side?  Why would he think I needed mental help?  
     I am Italian.  I have a short fuse.  I got short with Dr. Plunkett.  His back went up and he told me it didn't matter what I thought, I HAD to have this "test".  He said once that was done we would meet again and schedule the surgery.  I was in tears.  I finally had  hope to have my pain relieved and here I was stuck before I had even begun.  After he left the room, Dan said "he wasn't very nice about it.  I don't think I like him."  I agreed but knew he was my best hope for  seeing any pain relief.
      When we left the examining room I asked Dr. Plunkett to give me the name of the best counselor.  If I had to have this test done I wanted the best.  I absolutely believed I was mentally fit.  Depression, yes, mental problems, no.  A big NO.  He gave me several names and suggested one that he thought was best.  She was a Pain Specialist PHD.
     I went home and called, made an appointment, and then called my primary.  I had talked to my sister Karen who works in his office.  I told her about his pronouncement about my mental "health".  She told me to make an appointment and confront him about it.  She gave me some input as to how to approach him, as doctors are never wrong.  I do not remember ever being so upset about something.  Even as I am writing this, I remember very clearly what it felt like.  I was burning angry.  Dan, although I think he knew how devastating this had been to me, I don't think he knew how it devastating it had been in my mind.  It felt as though I were being told I had something wrong with me, other than the issues of pain and those associated with it.  It not only made me angry it made me second guess myself.  Was there something wrong?  Was there a possibility that there was a mental issue?  What did this mean for the surgery? 
     I don't exactly remember what was said in that conference with Dr. B.  But I do remember him saying he had suggested a few visits with a psychologist wouldn't be a bad thing, and he didn't realize that it would hold up the promising surgery.  I know that he did say at one point that maybe, "maybe", he had made an error in judgement.  It was enough for me and we left friends although I did tell him that I didn't appreciate having to have this test done and having to pay for it.
     I haven't written anything about the financial stress my ongoing health issues has had on us.  I do not think there has been a time since that very first surgery when we haven't owed doctors, surgeons, ER visits, PT, and specialists.  I have often prayed to God to just see us through another month.  And he has.  It always seems when we are so far behind that we will never catch up.  We haven't ever caught up, but we have managed to keep a roof over our heads, food to keep our bellies full (although sometimes not the healthiest of food), and a car to drive.  I have often said to Dan that I wish we had just enough to pay all our bills and have a little left over for a rainy day.  It seemed that all our days were rainy.  That I was still working as Music director helped, but just not enough.  It created cracks in our marriage.  I was often mad at Dan for things I probably shouldn't have been.  And I think he was equally so.  

     As I continue this saga of my life, I am continually reminded of how God has blessed me and how he has worked through me.  Working to help me see through my anger, my pain, my fears.  I see all this clearly now.  While I was going through some of the harder things, I honestly didn't think I was worthy.  I know I used a reference that my very best friend in the word, Fr. Dan gave me a long long time ago.  We all have crosses to bear, some are bigger than others, but we all carry them.  I know I have said this often, but used to think,"yeah, well, right, some of us really have bigger ones."  And I would try to pray it away, or reason it away, even wish it away.
Today, I don't pray it away. Today I am blessed by my cross.  I have clearer vision.  I still do not know what God has in store for me, or why I was chosen to have cancer, but I do believe that in some way or other it must be a gift.  And I will find out what it is when I die and go to heaven.
Peace
Barb