Desire Runs Deep

Five years ago, I had a stroke. One that took almost a year to diagnose. It was in my spinal cord, which is rare, and it caused permanent damage to the nerves on my right side to the point that first I had no feeling on that side, then I had such excruciating pain that I could barely move out of bed. I lost control of my limbs, and would drag my right leg when I walked. I have a very supportive family, who lead me to the best doctors they could find-Mayo Clinic, Georgetown, University of Michigan hospital. Everyone sent me away not knowing what was wrong, implying I needed psychological help, that I was a hypochondriac, that it was all in my head. I was 22, I had just gotten my first teaching job, and I was broken.

I would spend my days pushing away people at work who wanted to help, because I just wanted to forget what was going on and do my job, and my nights sobbing because of the pain. I missed so much work that first year that I went without pay for a month. I was misdiagnosed three times and drugs were pumped into me I didn't need, and I went to a therapist, who helped me with my frustration, but couldn't find any cause of the pain. It was horrible. And a good example of the fact that medicine isn't perfect.

I went home for Thanksgiving that year, eight months after it all began, and my uncle suggested I try acupuncture. It had been successful for him, and he thought I might find some relief for my pain. I was skeptical, but he gave me a name, and this office also specialized in family medicine and pain management. How bad could it be? Little did I know, they would be my rock for the next five years.

Every month I return to that office for some acupuncture. They made the diagnosis, they manage my pain, and listen when I tell them something is wrong. They listen. All those big hospitals, with all their wonderful research studies, hot shot physicians, and diagnostic tools, but the one thing they didn't do was listen. They had a predetermined idea of what was wrong with me, because the prior "big" hospital also couldn't figure it out. Not here; here, they spent hours with me working it out, and while I still have pain, it is managed, and it is liveable- most of the time.

About a year ago, I went to my doctor and told him I was planning on walking 40 miles for the Avon 2 day Breast Cancer walk. He said great, go for it, it's a great idea. He will often tell me about how much respect he has for me considering what I've dealt with, and my lack of complaining and my desire to do so many things. I don't believe in limitations. My philosophy is that life goes on, and so do I. I am not going to be stopped by a fluke. I started training; I felt good about completing something I worked toward, and started looking toward a new goal.

Four months ago, right before the walk, I told him I planned on starting running, with the goal of doing a half marathon. There was a long pause, with a stare, and then he told me he didn't like that idea. He has always, always been straight with me. He was concerned about my pain level, that while it wasn't going to physically harm me, it would cause me more pain, and my pain has been under control. I am stubborn, and I didn't listen. I finished the walk, and started running.

I will run the Miami half in January with two other friends. I have been training for this for about a month and a half. As I ran this morning, I was thinking about the lack of sleep I have been experiencing lately because I'll wake up in pain, and the shooting pain down my right side. It doesn't hurt when I run, but as soon as I stop, it is there. This is enough to make me want to quit, it is pain so deep in my body, in the nerves, that you want to crawl back into bed and stay there until it goes away. But, a goal is a goal, and the memory of achieving it lasts forever, while pain will eventually go away. I will do this, and I hope to do it again. I quit one time in my life, and it haunts me; I will never do it again.

There are many reasons I decided to run this half marathon, and none of them are related to my health. My health is good. But the desire runs deep, deeper than the pain.