May 2009

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It’ll be just like starting over.

May 28, 2009 in Hope, Humility by Chris | 8 comments

Nobody told me that, and honestly, I’m not sure I would have been able to hear them if they did, but man-o-man it is an important thing to realize.  That’s  my experience anyway.

You see, this isn’t my first rodeo.  I had over 2 years sobriety on another occasion and I suffered a major illness.  I had meningitis.  I spent several days in the hospital on serious painkillers.  I went home with more of them, and when they weren’t really cutting it for me anymore I reached out for the chemical that was always my first love – crystal meth.  I persued that relapse for another 4 years.

This time the pain has been much worse.  The surgery I had was pretty invasive.  It’s been 21 days already and I still can’t drive or lift anything.  One more week they tell me.  And this time coming down from the painkillers was much worse.  I was not prepared in any way for what was going to follow; the feelings of wothlessness, hopelessness, loneliness, and helplessness.

Somehow in this experience I remembered that everything I was feeling was what I was feeling at the very begining of my sobriety.

Never mind the physical pain, that’s how emotionally painful this has been; exactly like the very beginning of my recovery.

This time, except for the fact that I’ve been grounded and couldn’t go out looking for help, I did the same things I did when I first got sober.  I called people and asked for help.  I have made a ton of friends in 12 step recovery, and a very special handful of those people have kept my phone turned on, kept food in my fridge, helped me with laundry, come over to be with me as I relearn to master skills like walking around the block.  I’ve been lucky enough to have a dozen people show up at my house to bring me a meeting because they knew I couldn’t get out to or sit through one.

Little by little and day by day I’ve been getting better and stronger.  Little by little the pain is going away.  But in great and wonderful ways I have regained hope that when I remain willing to do what must be done to recover, that I will continue to recover.  When I am willing to be honest with the people that love me about what is going on with me and humble enough to receive their help, things get better, and they get better fast.

I wish I had known, as I was checking in to the hospital, what the emotional price was going to be.  I wish I had known that it would be just like starting over.  I don’t know.  Maybe someone has said it in a meeting before and I just didn’t hear it or get it.  So that’s what I wanted to share: life can be really hard and there are things that come down the pike that are going to make you feel like you felt right before or right after you got sober.  What has really helped me was remembering the things that I did back then and DOING THAT.  Asking for help and recieving help and talking about my fears and my hopelessness and listening to other people share how grateful they have been for my help in the past and how happy they are to be able to help me has returned me to a state of faith and hope.

What Could I Possibly Be Grateful For?

May 26, 2009 in Gratitude by Chris | 3 comments

Well, I’ll tell you what, I’d better darn well figure it out because the bottomless well of self-pity that life has been as I’ve been detoxing off the days and days I spent on morphine and as I try to heal will kill me unless I change my glasses and look at what I’m grateful for.

  1. Tonight 10 people I know from the program loved me enough to come over to my house and bring a meeting to me.  I haven’t been able to get out to one in like 3 weeks.   I’ve tried recently, but folding chairs kill me and I’m not that strong yet.
  2. My dad came up from Las Vegas for the afternoon and let me cry on his shoulder and helped me regain some perspective, told me that when my brother-in-law, the doctor, first saw the x-ray and I was going into surgery how afraid they were that they were going to lose me and how my family, scattered across the country, cared enough to pray for me.
  3. That I’ve somehow found myself surrounded by people, near and far, who have placed me in their prayers as well, and who are open to seeing opportunities and answers in the world around them (especially you, Bobbie).
  4. I can walk around 3 blocks today and I could only walk around 1 block 4 days ago.
  5. I was reminded how much I am now like the day I came through the doors of the program – and how much being willing to do whatever needs to be done will work for me again.
  6. I will for sure be able to use this experience to show others how my Higher Power carried me through yet another situation I couldn’t have handled on my own.  The last time I had 2 years sober I got meningitis and after a similar time in the hospital on similar painkillers I relapsed into active crystal meth use.  This time I was willing to ask for help.
  7. I do not have cancer.
  8. I do not have emphysema.
  9. I do not have HIV.
  10. I may not have health insurance, and I may be paying off the $40K bill for this for a long time, but I got the care I needed when I needed it.  There are countries where this might have only cost me a few hundred dollars, but there are also countries where I would not have lived through this.
  11. People have cared enough to keep my phone turned on, my car payment made, food in my fridge, and been available to walk around the blocks with me (just in case).
  12. It is taking longer to get better than I would have ever guessed, but I am finally able to tell that I AM getting better.

There – it’s a short list, but it’s a start.

This Too Shall Pass

May 24, 2009 in Willingness by Chris | 4 comments

But until it does I cry myself to sleep every night. (This too shall pass.) In the daytime and around people I pretend everything is okay – that I’m getting better; and I suppose I am, but I did not expect to be this sick for this long. I did not expect that all I could accomplish in a day would be to walk around a couple of blocks and take a shower, take a nap, and watch a movie. I had to give up Stella and I don’t actually miss her but I miss Gracie like I can’t believe.

I’ve managed to avoid the pain-killers entirely for the last couple of days, but that has just meant that I’m in more pain. (This too shall pass.)

Dumb Reason to Stop

May 23, 2009 in early recovery from smoking by Chris | 4 comments

I’ve gone on here this long – why quit now.  I’ve changed my mind.  I do have somewhere anonymous to write now but . . . .  this place still has meaning to me.

Wishing I Was Dead

At 40 days off cigarettes my back and ribs hurt me so much that I couldn’t move and for some reason I decided that I needed to see a chiropractor.  So I went to see one, had an exam, took a ton of x-rays, got an adjustment and was told to ice my ribs and come back the following Monday.

Well, that night I couldn’t get out of a chair I sat down in.  I tried to lie on the floor thinking it might help and instead it made things worse.  I called my mom and asked if she had anything really good for pain and I made it through the weekend with Norco and Valium.  Monday my sponsor took me to a real MD – and a few x-rays later he shot me up with antibiotics, wrote a scrip for others, along with another scrip for Norco, and sent me across the street to a radiology lab where I had a CT scan on my 40 day smoke free lungs.

It was too late in the day to get the darn thing read so I had to return the following morning for the results.  When I did I was given clear instructions that they were waiting for me in Admitting at St. Lukes Regional Medical Center.

At the very least I had pneumonia – and they presumed PCP.  Oddly I’m still HIV-.   I assumed they would wheel me into a room and throw a gown on me and an IV and I’d be done in a few days.  Instead, the next thing I remember I was in recovery from surgery and had tubes sticking out of my side along with some sort of pump that was keeping my lung inflated.  I don’t remember being in any pain as I was attached to a bottle of morphine.

The fluid wasn’t coming out fast enough I suppose, because after 2 days of that I signed something and woke up several hours later in ICU with a 14″ incision across my back and bruising across most of my ribs, front and back, and the information that parts of me had to be removed. I want to sue that fucking chiropractor who looked at chest x-rays of me from 3 days before and didn’t send me to a real doctor.

I am out of the hospital now for several days but I am in so much pain that I can hardly describe it to you.  I’ve also gotten the first hospital bill – not the surgoen or anything else mind you – and it looks like  the hospital stay alone was over $23.000 – and I feel like I want to die.

This doesn’t seem right.

I son’t be able to even drive – like to go to work – for at least 2 more weeks according to the orders.  I live paycheck to paycheck (mostly) and I haven’t had one in 3 weeks now and have had to rely on family and friends for groceries and telephone service . . . .

I’m trying to remind myself that “this too shall pass”.  At the moment though, honestly, I wish I would have died.  The longer ago the better.

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