Torture Therapy Part 2

     Today was my second torture therapy session.  It started out with electro-shock therapy. I was once again instructed to strip down.  I think this is to prevent me from running away once the torture begins.  Electrodes were attached to my neck and back.  ‘You will feel vibrations, ” she said. Vibrations is putting it mildly.  What I felt was shocking.  So shocking that my body was moving involuntarily.  I couldn’t control my arms, shoulders, and legs.  After what seemed like a lifetime, the tormenter returned, removed the electrodes, and began the abrasive rubbing.  It seemed as though she were trying to separate my muscles from my bones.  This time I didn’t care, because I was so relieved that the electro-shock therapy had ended.
     Once the tormenter was through I was instructed to get dressed.  By this point I could hardly move.  I dressed and was immediately escorted to the next chamber.  Here the doctor came in and instructed me to lay face down.  Once I was on the table she put a staple gun on my back and neck and stapled me back together.  Perhaps if they hadn’t torn me apart this step would not have been necessary.  When I finally returned home I noticed that I did not have any staples in my body.  Perhaps the leftover electricity in my body had rejected them or, more likely, there were never any staples to begin with.

Worries and Planning

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    These diseases have got me down, physically and emotionally.  As my doctor explained it.. They are like a freight train going down a hill.  They are going to keep going faster and harder until they are stopped.  So we are working on stopping them.  I’m not sure how long this is supposed to take, but in the mean time I have had to stop working, dancing, running with my pup, rock climbing, doing yoga, and traveling.  So I have a lot of time on my hands (when I’m not sleeping, of course) to worry about what the future holds.  I know worrying isn’t helping, but it’s natural.  It is said that just writing your worries down can relieve some of the stress.
I’m a little stressed, so here I go:
Will I be able to go back to work?
If I can’t go back to work, how will I have income?
Will I need a new career?
Will I be happy/fulfilled?
Will I be able to do the things I enjoy?
I’m not sure just writing them down is the answer, but it is a start.
     The hardest part of this whole ordeal is not being in control, not knowing what the future holds, and not knowing how to plan for the future.  But, I can plan for the future.  I just have to plan for different options.
If I can go back to work, I will …
If I can’t go back to work, I will…
If I need a new career, I will….
If I have to take a new job I will find a way to feel fulfilled.
     Will I be able to dance, run with my dog, rock climb, and do yoga again?  Only time will tell.  In the mean time I am finding new hobbies and ways to enjoy my life.  Instead of dancing I am listening to music, laughing, and reading more.  Instead of running with my dog we are cuddling more.  Instead of rock climbing I am crocheting.  Instead of yoga I am meditating.  I am also finding time to sit outside.  I enjoy slow, leisurely walks that allow me to see more than the fast paced walks I am used to.  I also have time to help with the household chores (on my good days) that takes the stress off of my boyfriend.  Its a different life, but still a fulfilling one.
What are your worries?  How do you combat your concerns?

Torture Therapy

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  I just got back from my first biweekly torture session. It’s supposed to help retrain my body to function normally. It’s a multifaceted approach that involves massage, chiropractic adjustment , and physical therapy .  Since I am new to torture therapy, they only performed one procedure on me today.
     I was told to de-robe because torture is best served nude. Next I was instructed to lay face down, that way I wouldn’t be able to see the tormenter.  It wasn’t long before the stranger walked in the room. The tormenting began with intense rubbing.  Not slow, relaxing rubbing, deep, fast, chaotic rubbing. If the tormenter got to a muscle area that was tender she applied more friction, harder and longer.  She then grabbed my left arm and swung it around in unnatural ways. She began to stroke it intensely as if she were striking the truth out. Next she flung it across my back. She quickly walked to my right side where she grabbed my left wrist and pulled it across my back to the right side. She repeated this pulling on the other side and then moved to my legs. I didn’t think the distress could   get worse than what I experienced on my arms, but I was wrong. She lifted my left leg up and whipped it out from under the sheet. She then bent my left knee out to the left like a frog’s leg. Next she picked up my left foot and twisted my ankle out to the left. It wouldn’t move any further so she pushed down on it, so hard that the rest of my body came off the table. She didn’t appreciate my body’s response so she began trying to detach my skin and bones by abrasively stroking my skin and muscles. Eventually the torment ended.  It was time to stand up. I was lightheaded. “Walk this way,” they said. “I can’t  take anymore,” I thought.
    Dr Torture returned to discharge me for the day.  She warned me that I should not exercise that day.  No kidding.  I couldn’t if I wanted to.  I was lucky to be walking.

High Maintenance

     I consider myself a low-maintenance woman. I don’t wear makeup.  I don’t like to shop.  I would rather have hiking boots than heels.  For a low-maintenance woman, I’m pretty high maintenance.
  I have to have my meds!
    You made me breakfast in bed?  Thanks!  But first I have to get up and take my supplements and medications.  You want to bring them to me?  That’s sweet, but I actually have to mix some with water.  You’ll do it for me?  Thanks!  They actually don’t mix well together, so can you bring me 3 glasses?  But, don’t forget a plain water.  And can I have some coffee?
And that is just breakfast…

The Best Me I Can Be

     I’ve been a bit hard on myself lately.  I’m not able to do the things I used to do.  The pain and fatigue are wearing on me.  One busy day results in three days of sleep.  I’m not very pleased with myself.  I hate not being able to work.  I hate missing important events in my friends’/family’s lives.  I hate turning down invitations.  I hate not being able to offer to help others.  I hate not being on top of my household chores.  I don’t hate myself.  But I do hate this situation.
     Someone very wise suggested I stop focusing on what I can’t do and focus on what I can do.  He said, if you can’t be who you want to be, focus on being the best you you can be.  So that’s what I will focus on.  If I can’t go to work, how can I contribute to work?  If I can’t make an important event, how can I show my support?   If I can’t accept an invitation, can I extend an invitation?  If I can’t help others, can I lend an ear or a shoulder?  If I can’t do all of the chores, what chores can I do?
     I will be the best me I can be.