This is a ‘remember this’ post. Stream of consciousness shortly after ‘a moment’ is useful to print out and use for pain management. Apologies if it’s a bit garbled.
There’s this wonderful sweet spot after a massive pain flare where everything becomes calm & quiet. Even if it invariably returns, for now it’s like the eye of the storm and I can lay here totally still aside from my hand tapping my phone and feel the multitude of painkillers dulling each of my nerves.
Describing this might sound like I want to be high (quite the opposite! The side effects suck, but these drugs keep me functional as a human), the pleasure gained from this quiet moment is in the polarisation from less than an hour ago when I reached a crescendo which left me literally rocking in pain. No-one seems to know for certain what causes these God-awful headaches aside from craniocervical instability (posh word for wobbly neck & skull) caused as ever by Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, but after sitting up for too long, or being bumped, the flashing lights signal the party is about to start.
I’ve tried to explain this before, but without success so just bear with me on this one…
Once the flashy lights start, one eye feels like it’s bulging & a steady thud starts in my cheek. Over the past few weeks, I’ve been taking sumatriptan at this point to stop it going further – for 6/8 it’s worked. I could kiss the GP that suggested this literal wonder drug. It didn’t work tonight, but the trigger was different – tonight I’d hurt my neck washing my hair (the water weighed it down & something popped), then I knocked out my jaw at dinner.
When it progresses, which it did today, that squishy bit at the base of my skull that was sore before starts to sting, and gradually the pinching in my neck moves down my spine until my pelvis aches. The pinching feels wet – there’s no other way to describe it. Like cold water travelling through my spine to where things hurt and either sending electric, tingling above my waist, or thuddy dull pains into my legs.
With my head pounding & my spine burning, my usual level of hearing dropped. This scares me because having lost my hearing reasonably rapidly I’m always concerned about how much will come back. Usually, I’m down by the dog in the Moderate/ severe range in the graph below (I hear lower sounds better & speech is only audible if there’s no background noise), but when it dips everything becomes like listening to Charlie Brown’s teacher. It’s not that I wouldn’t cope, but I’m still very much functioning in the hearing world.
At this point I panicked. I know it’s the worst thing to do when you’re in pain and it just makes things worse, but reaching my version of an 8 / 10 on the pain scale causes me to hit the ‘make it stop’ button. There is no painkiller on the planet as successful as Mr Geek kneading my shoulders like dough when I’m backing away from my own body – why? Because in order for the actual painkillers to take effect I have to calm the fuck down.
I’m not actually rating my pain for fun here. Although monumentally subjective, pain scales are a useful way to stop, body check, and assess just how bad this is – it’s as objective as pain is going to get. The scale also provides facial images for Mr Geek to get visual cues of where we are. In this case, we’re well into nothing but the pain.
Many people with EDS have pain tolerances that would make a Spartan blush. I’ve been mildly annoyed by a broken bone, asked for paracetamol following an organ rupture, and yet had a full on sobbing fit because I had a cold. Like I said, messed up.
We treat my pain according to a pain management plan – imagine if you will a birth plan that we use daily (eg. him pointing to the plan & reminding me that heat and tea and soothing music will make it easier, and me yelling at him that if he ever wants to have the ability to get laid again he will give me drugs). This means that we work our way up from paracetamol, to codeine, to NSAIDS, to morphine, to hospital. Because of the brainfog, he’s in charge of timings & doses – this is a sensible step back on my part. Yes, it infantalises me, but on the flipside he is spreadsheet levels of anal about dosage meaning I camnot accidentally overdose.
This evening, after my spine was pinching, my arms were tingling with pins & needles, my hearing dropped out, & I was nauseous (but not sick). Despite feeling nauseous I was also really hungry. Mr Geek gave me everything up to morphine and sat behind me rubbing my neck & shoulders for an hour. The rubbing is similar to TENS – it’s distracting and the skin on skin chills me out.
It had reduced to tolerable levels & I laid quietly for a bit with my phone in ‘night mode’ & my heated blanket on but I could feel the pinching riding up again so we opted for morphine at the lower dose (this allows me to top up if needed, and keep my general dosage low). Laying in the dark with my hearing out is like sensory deprivation and having a distraction is useful.
A second dose of morphine was enough to create this lull and the potential for some rest and enough clarity to describe the type of pain properly instead of a mumbled “er, sort of stabby” when with my doctor. It’s very difficult with hindsight to describe the stages as it all rolls into one ‘bad headache’, so whilst this may not have been the most exciting read it will be useful for me & my doctor at the next review.
Post pain, I’m left with an ache along my back, a pounding headache, and absolutely knackered – this post was written in between sudden naps (and deleting the random characters from nodding off with my fingers touching the keyboard!)
If you got to the end, erm, hi?