It’s been quite a reflective time in the run up to my 30th. Thinking about where I am in life, where I thought I’d be, looking around at my family and friends, who is with me, who isn’t. Where they are, what they are doing and what they’ve managed to achieve. It’s been emotional to say the least.
When I was 21 I never thought life would have u turned the way it did. I was in a stable relationship, working 3 jobs, at university studying HR and business management, healthy and relatively happy. I was confident, had friends, I had a car and a safe home. Then it all changed. By the time I had my operation I’d been in agony for over a year. I was suicidal. I just didn’t know how I was going to live with the pain I was in. I was delusional from lack of sleep and heavy pain meds and muscle relaxants. Thinking back... I just don’t know how I did it. That pain! Stabbing, stinging, burning, pulsing through my face 24 hours a day, every second was miserable. It was agony just to think about talking.
Then the neighbours and the nightmare of fearing for my family’s safety as they shot a gun at our door, or attacked a woman in the street with a brick, or mounted the pavement to try and run my young brother over. The police gave us a flame retardant mailbox and set up CCTV but there was little they could do to protect us until one of us was actually hurt. Eventually, in between the pain and university we moved. With the help of some very special people.
We were safe, but now I had to complete my university degree. I will never forget sitting in my mother’s living room with my mum until 4am for nights on end cutting up small pieces and clippings from academic journals just to break the info down into manageable chunks. Just so I could make some sort of sense out of the text. Everything took forever. An essay that once took a couple of hours took days for me to put together. I couldn’t read properly, think properly, type efficiently and I could hardly move for pain and fatigue. Then my mum would put her head down for a couple of hours and wake at 6 to go to work for the day. If she isn’t the definition of the world’s greatest Mum I don’t know what is. The nights she would wake hearing me sobbing and just hold me and tell me it would all be ok. I used to cry a lot. I just felt so helpless and trapped in this pain. I couldn’t escape.
After my operation in August 2011 Mum was there night and day. Syringing my food, helping me to lift my head, bathing me, washing my hair, helping me to get dressed, sitting up with me when I had insomnia and getting up in the middle of the night to help me take my pain meds. All while going to work and looking after my brother and the house. Moments I will never forget.
No one thought the operation was going to leave me in such a state. People often ask me what happen after the operation. All I know is, I opened my eyes in recovery and was in the most pain I’ve ever been in in my life. I couldn’t lift my head, it felt like a million tonne weight and my arms felt like there were glued to the bed. Years and years no one has been able to answer why I was in so much pain and why my muscles seized up. All we have been able to guess is that I was allergic to the muscle relaxants used during the surgery and that is what caused this. The same thing happened when I had my plates removed. But because that was a much shorter operation the rigidness and pain wasn’t as bad.
I was so upset. I thought this operation was going to make it all better. Yes I knew it could make it worse (my surgeon warned me), but I hoped and prayed it wouldn’t.
For the first time since I was 17 I couldn’t work, I couldn’t even look after myself. Mum was caring for me and trying to support a whole house. Running home in her lunch break to feed me and give me my pills and then running back all on a couple of hours for sleep. I looked around and saw all my friend’s had graduated and secured jobs. They were going on holidays, buying homes, getting married, planning families and here I was being fed by my mum through a syringe.
I hoped things were going to get better, but even Mum didn’t know. Recovery was long. Even the jaw surgery itself. I took quite a while to heal and be able to open my mouth fully. I had to learn how to smile, feel and eat again. It was strange, I would bite the side of my mouth by accident or miss my mouth completely. But even after the orthodontist and surgeon were happy and signed me off of their books, I still had a long way to go.
So years and years of physiotherapy, psychological therapy, hydrotherapy, acupuncture, osteopathy, sports massage, chiropractors, cranial therapy, aromatherapy and meditation. I’m still numb on both sides of my lower lip, bottom teeth and gums. My muscles in my neck, face and shoulders spasm all the time. They also rip and tear for no reason what so ever. And my nerves fire up and shoot pains down my face and jaw, through my eyes, head and neck and down my arms. Sometimes the nerves are so painful and fire off so strongly I can’t lift my arm or grip at all.
In November I started with a personal trainer and I’ve learnt a lot about my body. Since starting training, I have discovered that certain muscles in my body just don’t react or wake up. There are a few core muscles that take on all the work and then some muscles that don’t work at all. I also have reduced feeling in certain areas like my shoulder blades and peck area. I’m seeing a neurologist at St Thomas’s so hopefully this is something he is going to look into.
As you know, recovery has been a long road and I still suffer from pain daily... but look... this time 5 years ago, even 3 years ago I didn’t think I’d be able to sit up all day and support my neck unaided, I didn’t think I could manage a flight of stairs without a walking aid or walk for more than a few meters or stand for more than 1 minute at a time. I never thought I was going to work again. Things were bad.
Yes I struggle. Lifting that 500ml bottle of water hurts, but I can do it, I can hold that glass or that tea cup and drink without getting it all down myself (the majority of the time). I’ve eaten some amazing foods, in some amazing places and been able to live a life I thought was out of reach. It’s not the life I imagined. But it is a life!
Yes it’s easy to get caught up in the what ifs, what others are doing and comparing. I thought I would be in a stable career by now, be married with kids... but I’m not and those thoughts aren’t going to help me.
I’m proud of how far I’ve come. I now run a successful company and I’ve just set up a new one. I’m independent. I’ve travelled. I can afford to go to a personal trainer and go for massages to help my pain.
I struggle yes. It’s hard, yes. I feel exhausted, down trodden and uncomfortable all the time. But I’m moving in the right direction. If this is what I can do in 7 years. Imagine what I can do in the next 7!
I wouldn’t have been able to do any of this without my mum. I literally wouldn’t even be alive if it wasn’t for her. I was on the edge of giving up so many times. But she kept me going, kept me strong and gave me a reason not to be selfish. How could I do that to her.
So on the eve of my 30th birthday I would just like to say... I love you Mum. And I am so thankful for everything you have done and do for me. You truly are an angel. You’ve been there for me through this all. On my side and fighting for me all the way. The one person I could rely on. I hope I can make you proud and maybe one day we can sit on a beach somewhere hot, with the sun shining and toast to being pain free. Until then we have many happy memories to make and special times to spend together. Just mind that step :)
x
xx
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