The lowest low so far

I can deal with pain. In fact, I have a pretty high pain threshold. If pain is going to be a part of my daily life from now on, I can cope with that.

I can follow directions. For two months, I have done everything asked of me to further my healing. I have been off work since May 4th. I have stepped away from nearly all other commitments including theatre. Out of the last 53 days, I have only let 2 go by without doing my exercises at least once.

I can be patient. This all started 7 months ago yesterday. I have worked hard to stay as positive as I could, I have focused on how lucky I am to have family and co-workers and friends who care as much as they do, I have celebrated the small successes along the way--and there definitely have been some. I have reminded myself that I am not the only person trying to navigate this system, nor am I more important than any other patient that my doctor or any of my other health practitioners have.

I can understand people when they tell me things. I am not stupid. I am not a child. I research terms I've never heard before. I pick up the lingo. I won't be dazzled, confused, or stumped by a doctor throwing around terms like discogenic or facetogenic.

I can't believe that not being able to stand for longer than ten minutes is my new normal. I can't believe that I will never be able to go for a nice brisk walk. I can't believe that I'll never dance. I can't believe that all the plan I was given from this doctor, this specialist, was "adapt." I didn't know how much hope I had hinged on today-- hope for some validation of the progress I've made, hope for a "next step" of treatment whatever that may be, hope that I will at some point be okay-- until it wasn't there.