Skip to main content

"Klutz"


For as long as I can remember, I've had a bin somewhere full of these multi colored stretchy bands. And just about everywhere you turn, there's another one hanging somewhere.

Looking back on the last 20 years, its increasingly obvious that my body just wasn't built right.

I can remember long before "migraine" was a thing, the decision to move my desk to a different corner where I'd have less light shining on me. Within a month or so, my parents decided to get me glasses. Maybe I was getting headaches from reading.

I mean I can remember the day very vividly. It was fifth grade and I couldn't comprehend the textbook that was in front of me.

Then for a year I pretended that the glasses did some good. They didn't.

I was in and out of various boots and braces basically my entire youth.

Sometimes it made sense, like I'd fall of the monkey bars and sprain my ankle.

Other times, not so much. Like why on earth did I have to sit out of my keyboarding class and why did I have some chunky wrist brace on?

My parents pegged me as a klutz.  I was ALWAYS hurting myself in some way or another.

And no broken toes don't fit into this equation... I've broken them all, but I also was really not that great at walking around chairs and tables with awkwardly shaped legs that were just begging to make contact with my toes.

I threw out my back freshman year because maybe I was carrying my backpack wrong?

Then a jackass dropped a backpack on my knee and it swelled up three times its size.

For years I was in various therapies and took way too much pain medicine to try and calm it down. A medical test never showed what was wrong. No tears. No pockets of liquid. No dislocation of knee caps. Nothing.

I went through multiple cortisone shots that only made it worse, and to this day can't go on a run or do weighted squats. It doesn't flare up much anymore. But I never received any answers.

Then, Junior year, I reached for the mouse to take my Physics exam and pop. My shoulder. It popped. A wave of sharp pain jolted my entire body. My teacher helped me move the mouse to the other side so I could take the exam and then rush to the doctor.

Perhaps the night before I'd lifted something off a top shelf wrong at work... perhaps not.

But my rotator cuff was severely damaged. More physical therapy.

Now there's this "spot" on my shoulder blade that stays in a knot.

Zoom into college and by second semester, I'd developed carpal tunnel. This was after spending first semester in a boot because I fell off my lofted bed and snapped it.

So, I wore two braces every night to fix a now irreversible problem.

But now here I am. Bands are back out in my daily space because physical therapy is an everyday thing.

But the exercises to strengthen my shoulders and neck are taking a toll on my wrists.

I'm back to sleeping in my brace every night .

I was up most of the night because my wrists hurt so bad.

My head isn't throbbing my wrists are.

Somewhere along the journey of injuries my migraines revved up.

I'm no longer the active individual I once was. I barely do yoga as often as I want.

Most exercises are simply off limits because of this injury or that injury.

I'm about ready to find a personal trainer who can just guide me through what exercises I can do, because I'm sick of just sitting around and I'm sick of always hurting.

But, something has always been wrong. Sorry mom and dad but I don't think I'm a klutz.

I think my body is slowly decomposing and no amount of vitamins or medications or therapies seem to help.

Maybe if we could theoretically take me apart and put all the pieces back together, I'd be fixed.

Maybe not.

A.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Positive Notes

Here I go mixing things up before things have really taken off. My featured picture is intended to represent the way chronic illnesses and disabilities are only really seen in black and white. My words are intended to fill in all that grey space that is ignored. But today I needed a little color. Because at the end of the day, there's a lot of brightness and light and hope that is key component to my every day battle. So here's a sneak peak and my brand new apartment. I think I've spent the last 4 or 5 years waiting for the day that I had a place of my own. Not because I wanted freedom to do what I pleased or had the same urge to be an adult and do adult things. I in no way want to make anyone think that adulting is fun or recommended for anyone. I didn't want my own place. I needed it. I needed to not have to snarl at my parents for running the garbage disposal or cutting the grass when my head hurt too badly to get out of bed. I couldn't take one more la...

It Hurts

To say I feel less than human, is probably a bit of an understatement. But I do. I've been home for a week. I've managed to pretty much lay in bed in agonizing pain the whole time. I had a half-assed attempt to see a friend that resulted in me rushing home as the nausea and aphasia set in. I successfully made it to massage therapy today. Which meant even after sleeping for roughly 2 hours, I got up at 7:30 and sat in traffic for hours to get to a less than expected appointment. Mind you, my previous massage therapist was so wonderful I'm most likely spoiled to other techniques. This lady was late, she sat in the same god awful traffic I did. We spent more time going over the woes of her morning, than we did discussing why I was there and what I hoped to achieve through various massage techniques. The massage room wasn't dimly lit, and even as the massage started, lights were still on. I found this odd, but decided to just keep my eyes closed. Then she started ...

I'm Confused As To Why You're Uncomfortable

Full disclosure, I'm well aware that the people I'm talking about, won't be reading this. But this is something that needs to be put out there, on the half chance you might click and read this one post, even though you've never glanced at the rest of them. One month ago, I came to the conclusion that I could no longer work in the capacity I have been used to working. Two weeks ago, I called off for my last week of work, and decided that I 100% needed to put my focus on getting healthy, or at least finding a way to manage my pain. This decision resulted in something no one expected: I medically withdrew from my university. In the weeks that have followed, however, you've bombarded me with your disapproving comments and your blatant lack of understanding. More family won't speak to me. People keep telling me they hope that by being back home, I'll get healthier and I'll be able to go back and finish my degree. I'll be able to take full...