As an AN patient, I cannot help but feel compassion for anyone experiencing the post-operative problems some AN patients are forced to deal with. Physical problems that, although not always terribly debilitating, are often
emotionally debilitating and negatively affect family members and friends, most of whom simply cannot understand something they haven't experienced. We know that fatigue, headaches and similar pain aren't visible so
"you look fine" becomes, not the compliment it's meant to be - but more like a hurtful insult. Friends and family, even loving spouses, can't understand why this is so.
While more surgery, drugs and physical therapy are all part of the AN healing process, attitude is a critical factor and one often glossed over by some physicians or dismissed as irrelevant by others. I disagree. I don't believe that pain and discomfort can be eliminated by simply 'thinking positive thoughts' - that would be naive. However, I do believe that they can be
managed more effectively by refusing to succumb to bitterness, self-pity or, worst of all, submission. Of course, we're all 'entitled' to a
little self-pity once in awhile. That makes us human. However, staying too long at the 'Poor Me Hotel 'can lead to a loss of will, self respect and the optimism needed to keep fighting to regain normalcy. The operative phrase is
"it won't always be this way'...and it won't.
Although God blessed me with a good surgical/radiation outcome, I've watched my wife, whom I love, endure very painful neck and spine problems, several major surgeries - most only partly successful, Fibromyalgia, Crohn's disease and numerous lesser but annoying health issues, including a Morton's neuroma (surgically removed) and a gall bladder attack (and subsequent surgical removal of the offending organ) a few years ago. She lives with pain every day. She takes Neurontin and other non-narcotic pain medications, including high-dose (800mg) Ibuprofen on a regular basis. They help, but as often is the case, do not totally alleviate her pain. She long ago decided that she only had one life to live and she was determined not to live it as a partial invalid, house-bound and miserable. She is very active. She spent yesterday at an Indian casino about 80 miles from our house, with our adult son (he drove), playing Bingo and penny slots. She had a great time and didn't get back until after 2 a.m. She won $100.
Today, she's exhausted and has spent most of the day sitting; talking on the phone, at the computer, watching TV and reading. She canceled a regular Friday morning coffee-date with her sister-in-law. She'll probably go to bed early tonight and be much more sprightly, tomorrow. However, she pushed past any discomfort she felt yesterday and was determined to enjoy herself, which she did. The endorphins released probably helped her stave off her pain. In any case, she did this through determination and a will to live a normal life, despite her deficits.
I mimicked that attitude while recovering from my AN surgery and I'm sure it hastened my return to normalcy. Besides, she needed me to do things she can't do. My adult son doesn't live with us, works long hours and isn't available most of the time, although he's willing to help when he can. So, I was grimly determined to 'get my life back' post-op, and I did. Of course, having few complications was a major factor and I fully realize that those enduring late post-op problems have a much, much harder time of it - and I don't diminish their struggle for a moment. I simply offer my thoughts on how to best cope with the struggle.
The Lovely and Gracious Tina is my right arm in our church benevolence ministry, which I head, as a Deacon. She was and remains a good mother to our son and all I could want or hope for in a wife. She rarely complains and is an inspiration to me. Although she hasn't endured an acoustic neuroma, she has her own set of physical problems she deals with every day. She does so with an equanimity I doubt I could maintain. Because most of her medical problems are internal, she often gets the
"you look fine" routine and has learned to smile and say
"thank you" when this occurs. When asked how she's feeling (her friends know of her physical problems) she invariably responds:
"I'm fine, thanks!" So, we take it One Day At A Time and fight for our normalcy however we can, always remembering that
'it won't always be this way'. Jim
