
Showers can be glorious. Step into the warm embrace of heated, running water and wash the weight of the world away. Cleanliness most certainly must be next to Godliness, for with tensions eased and our bodies feeling refreshed our minds are open to endless possibilities… or maybe that’s just our sinuses clearing. Regardless, during last night’s shower, just for a moment, I slipped into my old self pondering the ways of the universe and searching for that daily epiphany making sense of even the smallest worry pressing on my shoulders. Then the time came to decide, do I shave my legs or not?
The magical box of steam and water no longer holds the same allure it once did, at least not for me. Now every time I shower there are conscious decisions to be made. I can’t forget to first fill the tub with really warm water to protect my right foot from the needles shooting out of the showerhead. I must make sure my lovely medical grade shower seat is in position and ready for me to spend most of my shower upon it. Beyond the 5am work day “did I already use shampoo” fog of my former life, my cleansers are now lined up in order trying to prevent a step from being repeated or missed while I perceive myself to be wide awake. By this point I’m probably out of breath, my leg is screaming to be released from this hell, and I’ve started to sweat. Yes, even in the shower I can break out into a fatigue/stress/pain induced sweat. Then there’s always that
one thought I put off until the end, whether or not to shave my legs. If I do, my right leg feels as if every stroke of the razor is either chopping off the top of goose-bumps or removing sections of skin all together; If I do not, the slightest brush of pants, sheets, blankets, etc make each individual hair feel as though it’s been caught and will be ripped right from the root. Last night, because it had been nearly 100 hours since my last shower, I went for it. The need to feel clean overpowered any anxiety about additional, aggravating, short term (12 hr) discomfort.
Luckily I am a fairly odor free person. So, aside from my very slick, oily hair the average stranger might not have guessed that I had not taken a shower or full bath since Monday morning. But those were Dr’s orders. One can simply not get electrical leads poking out of their spinal column wet. The internal surges from programs not working properly were already more than I could tolerate. Just say no to electrocution! The Dr also asked that I wait an additional 24 hours after the lead came out before showering, giving my lower back just a little bit more time to close and heal. Admittedly I might have taken 26 or even 28 hours before getting in the shower, but at that moment a nap was more important. I was still beaten up from the procedure, both physically and emotionally.
During my shower reflection moments I was trying to release the disappointment and grief felt on Thursday after being told a permanent Spinal Cord Stimulator was not going to be an option for me. I knew this in my heart going into the appointment, but my brain kept scrambling, searching for more than existed, more pain relief, more details to give to the doctor convincing myself that it really was going to help me. Before I opened my mouth I could see the Dr’s interpretation of my body language on his face. Doing that much searching and concentrating for the SCS’s success meant it wasn’t one. Truth be told, my body actually feels better now that the lead is out… but my heart is still on the mend.
Finding that balance between being cautiously optimistic without giving up on hope is a fine line to tread. Even though I knew the statistics going into it, I still felt like the rug was pulled out
from under me. I knew that I wasn’t a failure, it just didn’t work, but I still felt that way. Knowing I’m that much closer to running out of options to treat RSD scares me. One more decision I can not control, one more possibility of a normal life swept away. I received wonderful words of understanding and encouragement from fellow RSD’ers whom I am blessed to now call friends. They are right; I needed to allow myself time to grieve for the loss of this potential treatment AND I need to find a way to shake it off, moving onto the next item on the list. There are new treatments being developed every day around the world. With continued prayers, awareness and funding for research we can be optimistic for a day when shaving our legs won’t cause so much agony, even dare to hope for a cure… cautiously of course.
The magical box of steam and water no longer holds the same allure it once did, at least not for me. Now every time I shower there are conscious decisions to be made. I can’t forget to first fill the tub with really warm water to protect my right foot from the needles shooting out of the showerhead. I must make sure my lovely medical grade shower seat is in position and ready for me to spend most of my shower upon it. Beyond the 5am work day “did I already use shampoo” fog of my former life, my cleansers are now lined up in order trying to prevent a step from being repeated or missed while I perceive myself to be wide awake. By this point I’m probably out of breath, my leg is screaming to be released from this hell, and I’ve started to sweat. Yes, even in the shower I can break out into a fatigue/stress/pain induced sweat. Then there’s always that

Luckily I am a fairly odor free person. So, aside from my very slick, oily hair the average stranger might not have guessed that I had not taken a shower or full bath since Monday morning. But those were Dr’s orders. One can simply not get electrical leads poking out of their spinal column wet. The internal surges from programs not working properly were already more than I could tolerate. Just say no to electrocution! The Dr also asked that I wait an additional 24 hours after the lead came out before showering, giving my lower back just a little bit more time to close and heal. Admittedly I might have taken 26 or even 28 hours before getting in the shower, but at that moment a nap was more important. I was still beaten up from the procedure, both physically and emotionally.
During my shower reflection moments I was trying to release the disappointment and grief felt on Thursday after being told a permanent Spinal Cord Stimulator was not going to be an option for me. I knew this in my heart going into the appointment, but my brain kept scrambling, searching for more than existed, more pain relief, more details to give to the doctor convincing myself that it really was going to help me. Before I opened my mouth I could see the Dr’s interpretation of my body language on his face. Doing that much searching and concentrating for the SCS’s success meant it wasn’t one. Truth be told, my body actually feels better now that the lead is out… but my heart is still on the mend.
Finding that balance between being cautiously optimistic without giving up on hope is a fine line to tread. Even though I knew the statistics going into it, I still felt like the rug was pulled out

I'm here hoping for that cure with you! Ahh to shave and shower without all the prep (psychologically & physically), what a beautiful day that will be....
ReplyDeleteYou probably alreadly know this but using conditioner to shave legs...I dread it so much also. I found Dove is thick, creamy & the razor that has blade w/cream attached is a double whammy(forget name but short, thick, fat).
ReplyDeleteHelp some??