Hello everyone!
I decided it was time to reach out to others for some advice, comfort, and just so I don't feel so alone in the world with my pain. Here's my story:
Back in 2010, I was a runner. I loved running. It gave me such a wonderful high, and kept my depression and anxiety at bay. It seemed to solve all my problems and kept me healthy. I started having pain in my right foot that wouldn't go away. When it started to keep me from running, I sought the advice of a podiatrist who diagnosed me with Planter Fasciitis. I was prescribed rest, ice, warm water soaks, insoles for my shoes, and stretching. It worked for a little while, but the pain never truly went away.
Fast forward to 2014, after 2 rounds of injection therapy, steroidal anti inflammatorys that messed up my female cycle, tons of ibuprofen, resting, and no more running, I'm still in pain. I've gained weight, my mental state had declined, depression has become the norm. I had tried swimming, biking, all kinds of low impact things and they just didn't do it for me. My doctor says I'm a good candidate for surgery. I reluctantly agree, and in hind sight I should have looked elsewhere for second opinions. I went through with the planter fascia release procedure in March 2014.
My aftercare was poor. I know now that I should have been put in a boot, I should have rested, but I was told to walk in my shoes. So I did. Then the nerve pain started, and the numbness. My foot felt broken, and didn't move like it used too. My doctor tried two injections into the incision site to help break down scar tissue which did nothing but cause more numbness. Eventually when I ended up in his office yet again, he was almost angry at me, and wrote me a script
for Hydrocodone, referred me to a pain management doctor and blew me off.
My pain management doctor recommended Physical Therapy, which I decided to do. I was doing it for 3 months, and it greatly helped my very stiff and painful foot. I was told I should have had it after surgery to keep my foot mobile and flexible, and to keep inflammatory tissue from building up.
The plateau inevitably happened in PT. I was still in pain. I had isophronesis done to help with inflammation, but didn't get much relief. I saw a new podiatrist who wasn't horribly friendly, but is of the opinion that I have nerve damage or compression, and instructed me to wear certain insoles, which I have been, but give me no relief. They are more supportive though. I'm not convinced that my nerves are the only issues, as I have pain in my whole foot when I walk. He said I would need more surgery. I'm sure I would have to go through a battery of diagnostics to find out the problem, and my medical bills are an issue.
I've been on narcotic painkillers and ibuprofen for several months now. I switch them around to keep the dosage down. I live in a sort of haze that painkillers give you, and the darkest most horrible bouts of depression I've ever had. I can't stand for too long, or walk to far. If I do, I pay dearly for it and end up in bed with ice and a TENS machine. I've gained a lot of weight, which doesn't help my foot I'm sure. But I'm one of those people who have always been slightly heavier, like my body wants to be fatter. Even when I was at my healthiest, I was still 20lbs over weight. But it depresses me, how I've become a lump of pain and misery.
I try very hard to keep hoping. I read a blog post about
how we as chronic pain sufferers, feel we are not allowed to dream anymore. Our lives become our pain, and our brains devote so much run time to coping with pain. Every step I take is painful, and somedays it becomes too much to bear. There is also the guilt of having to rely on others, and not being as productive as we could be. Pain is a physical thing, but also so much a mental thing.
I still keep one of the shirts I wore for my first 5k by my bed. I hold it sometimes, and cry, and mourn the loss of my old self. I'm still very angry at my doctor for not caring much about
my recovery after the surgery. I'm angry that I have to take two percoset so I can clean the house. I'm angry that I start so many projects and never finish them because that horrible self doubt creeps in and holds me back. I have not yet learned how to live this new life, and I flop around like a fish out of water, wishing I wasn't in pain anymore.
I know this is long, but it's been sitting and festering inside me for a while now, and it feels good to get it out. I've read a lot of stories here before deciding to join, and I know I'm not alone in the way I feel. Thank you for listening