this pitcher can throw, but i haven’t struck out yet
Life throws some pretty tricky curve balls sometimes. I’m a pretty good hitter, but I never saw this one coming.
On December 2, I had a fabulous appointment with Jeremy and was cleared to start exercising again after I had injured the inguinal ligament back in early October. We had just finished up a fairly uneventful Thanksgiving week and my body was doing really well. I was ready to start building some muscles and kick off the Christmas season.
On December 3, my dear friend, Heather, invited a group of us to go to lunch and fill her up with some love and laughter. We had a lovely lunch catching up on the events of all of our lives and laughed ourselves silly. I always lie down during our Red Robin escapades and this time was no different…except I was squished and my head was turned really wonky.
Somehow, the yucky position my neck was in reinjured my vagus nerve, stretching it out and irritating it right back into hypersensitivity mode. I stood up at the end of our meal, collapsed right in the restaurant and proceeded to have many episodes of passing out, shaking, and vomiting. It was awful. Probably the worst episode yet. At the time, I thought it was a one-time deal – I had no idea that I would not feel hungry for the next several days, that anything I did eat would come right back up, and that my stomach would ache for hours and hours and hours after I was able to get the tinsiest amount of food down.
Vomiting is probably my least favorite thing. I puked my guts out during all of my pregnancies and haven’t thrown up once since Annesley’s birth seven years ago because my body is DONE with the puking.
Until now. Oh my goodness, the puking. A few days ago, in the midst of an hour long puke-fest, I told Kez to text Richard and tell him I was dying. I didn’t really think I was, but I was not at all sure I was going to come out alive on the other side. I’ve thrown up in all my sinks, my garbage can, my trusty bowl that is my new companion, my bath tub, in multiple parking lots, in my hands, my hair, and all over my shoes. The worst was throwing up a huge puddle of protein/chocolate/green smoothie at a man’s brand new home – what a housewarming gift! After two weeks of this, I am about to give up on eating entirely. It is disgusting and painful and exhausting. I am now eating a very small meal about every 24-36 hours. I have kept the last two down and am hoping this means some healing is occurring.
A few days after the vomiting started, I passed out at church and injured my knee. The LCL is partially torn and the meniscus is torn. The LCL might heal. If it does, it will take 2-4 months. The meniscus will not heal, but it may be livable. We won’t really know until the pain from the LCL decreases so I can assess the meniscus pain by itself.
So I spend my days icing and elevating and sipping water and trying to figure out how to adjust to this curve ball. I am researching how to calm the vagus nerve and have come up with some ideas we are going to start implementing. As soon as I can get some ginger, I am going to start taking 600 mg 3 times a day. I am applying nerve calming oils to the vagus and digestive oils to my stomach. I am working on slow breathing, taking time to ponder, and working on being calm. I am trying to get up really, really slowly and keep my sympathetic nervous system calm, for when it ramps up, the parasympathetic system has to ramp up to balance it out.
Our December already feels so derailed from how I imagined it. I haven’t shopped for a single gift for extended family, friends, or neighbors. Baking goodies with the kids has not happened, nor has standing in shopping lines, looking at lights, or attending any parties, recitals, or concerts. Even getting our nightly Christmas book in has been a tremendous challenge when I feel so miserable.
This is going to be a new journey – new twists and turns I cannot yet foresee. I am trying to open my mind to acceptance for the road my body is taking us all on. My job is to believe and hope and work for healing AND accept with grace and dignity the journey I am on.
I don’t really know what the point of this post is except perhaps for me to get the disjointed thoughts swirling around in my mind out on paper screen so I can remember being in the midst of this journey when the next one comes and I need help getting through it. Just yesterday I read a post from the last time my vagus was acting up and rereading my words filled me with hope and faith that God can heal me this time, too. This may be a short jaunt into the land of non-digestion and knee injury or it may be our new life. At this point we have no idea where this road is taking us, but we do know we are surrounded by family and friends that love us and we are in God’s keeping.