I never believed that psychological issues could show up as physical issues. I always thought that was a load of horseshit. On the same plane as Herbal Medicine, meditation, and vitamins solving everything. But I am coming to the realization that my Frozen Shoulder is the stress and grief settled in my right shoulder. Every Dr that I had gone to told me to take anti inflammatory meds (Aleve, Motrin, etc) and it would be fine. 7 months later I finally found an orthopedist who realizes that the pain is real and that Aleve isn’t controlling it. New meds, a cortisone shot, Physical Therapy and the discussion of Manipulation under Anesthesia if things don’t get better. There is hope that I will be able to reach the top shelf again.
Once Connor died my world turned on its head, and I think someone shook it in the process as well. I began to rethink everything. Eastern Medicine wasn’t so crazy if it could help, it helped generations of people long before Big Pharma got involved in our health care. Meditation isn’t something that I have ever been good at. I can’t be still for more than 30 seconds, never mind 30 minutes. I am not quiet, my mouth goes a mile a minute, along with my brain, but tragedy changes that.
It forces you to think, about yourself, about what happened, why it happened, and why it happened to you and your family? Will you ever be OK again? How long will it take to be OK again? Will your friends wait for you, or will they get tired of the tears and the grief, long before you are done grieving? All of these questions run through your brain like a thousand mile an hour freight train. The way to quiet the constant chattering brain is to meditate. I learned how to do it, (the 21st century way) via an app on my iPhone. It worked, it quieted my brain, but it didn’t turn the grief off.
Nothing turns the grief off, time doesn’t heal this wound. It makes it easier to deal with but it doesn’t heal it. This year of firsts has sucked. And now as we approach the holiday season and the first year anniversary of his death the pain is fresh and at times unbearable. Last year for the holidays I was numb, this year the numbness is gone, so I feel everything, the good, bad and the ugly.
I know that I will never be the same person again, and I am ok with that. I hate this new normal, but this new person I have become is pretty damn good. I have learned to laugh when things are funny, cry when I am sad, and give in to both the physical and emotional pain. Give in and ask for help, spend time with my friends, and share my feelings with them. No woman is an island, and trying to be one is a lonely feeling. I don’t want to be alone in my pain, it is too deep to handle on my own, but shared it can be dealt with.