So what was life like once I had healed?
Was everything a bed of roses? Did we look back and laugh at how I had stared
death in the face? Did I embrace life like never before? Sadly not. Life was
hard. Necrotising Fasciitis is its own hell but living with being alive has
been quite another. For me personally, I suddenly had to deal with body image
issues. The last time I had any body issue was at school – I was the last one
in my year to have anything to put in a bra! Due to the NF and surgeries I now
have a step in my body. I began hiding my body from my husband. I refused to
believe he could ever love me looking this way. Once I spent a whole weekend
abroad with a huge group of people I knew. I was drunk most of the time (more
of this later), in tears privately with Graeme, at the thought of being in a
swimsuit! Graeme has had to deal with my latest battle of wearing lycra for my
training which obviously shows everything I have and haven’t got!
Both of us have had to get used to the
fact George will be an only child. I made no secret that I absolutely loved
being pregnant. The pain of not giving Graeme a daughter, of not allowing
George a brother or sister, of never being pregnant again, has at times been
unbearable.
I was full of resentment, even
(shamefully) hatred for anyone who was living life as I wanted. A lot of this
was directly linked to living in pain. Being in pain makes you a moody,
unhappy, horrible person to be around. I was on an awful lot of painkillers to
get me through my day and I got to the stage where my life was so far from
reality I scared myself. I was at my lowest low, with no control over my life
and genuinely believed that everyone’s lives would be far better if I had died.
There was more than one occasion that Graeme found me collapsed in a heap
contemplating not being around anymore.
Eventually I hit rock bottom and I
absolutely had to take control if I ever wanted to get back on track. I truly
believed that coming off the drugs was the best thing for me to do so I started
to wean myself off them. It took a while and I was in even more pain but I
began to see things a little more clearly – for a while.
I was officially discharged in March
2008. Plastic surgeons still wanted to get their hands on me but I absolutely
can’t put family or myself through any unnecessary surgery. It’s always in the
back of my mind that this mesh insertion from my last surgery might not last
forever. That is scary enough! I was still on painkillers but an amount that I
was happy with preferring to be in pain and functioning than an outright Zombie
like before. I would tell Graeme “I’m better now” then a week later “I thought
I was better, but now I really am better”. This went on and on just like the
pain.
Taking a break from the pain came in the
form of drink fuelled nights out. The alcohol numbed the pain, and weekend
drinking soon turned into every night drinking, and 1 bottle of wine a night drinking
turned into 2 bottles a night drinking. I was making trips to the recycling
centre so no one could see how bad the situation was and knew all along the self-medicating
would have to stop at some point. It came when I realized there might come a
time when I wanted to drink when I woke up.
Yet again it was time to battle and
thankfully I sorted myself out.
It’s amazing what you can do when you’re
a mum. George helps to put everything into perspective. That stubbornness of
mine really helps too. I still drink on nights out. I want to wear heels, dance,
be a little crazy and there is no way I could without alcohol or painkillers. Loads
of day-to-day things test my pain threshold. Washing/drying my hair, driving a
car, crossing my legs, walking up and down stairs, sitting down, standing up,
pulling on boots, opening jars, getting out of bed, the list is endless. I have
changed how I do a lot of things it’s like my centre of gravity has shifted. I
certainly never realized how much you used stomach muscles for! I have good
days and bad days but I hope I have learnt to cope with my daily pain in a far
better way now. To be honest, I’m not entirely sure I can remember ‘normal’
life before NF. What it was like to have feeling across my stomach, or having a
proper belly button in the right place or not having a step cut out of me.
Maybe its good that I don’t? Maybe my brain is doing me more favours than I
know?
So what of life now? I am a little
crazy. I come up with crazy ideas and my poor family doesn’t really have a
choice but to support me. I absolutely refuse to let NF win. My pain is a constant
reminder but NF has bought many positives. I survived. I would never be doing
these crazy things if it wasn’t for NF and I wouldn’t see life how I see it
now. I take every day as it comes. Not only because my memory is so bad but
because tomorrow may never come. Death scares me, but not living the life I
have left scares me more.
Pushing my limits :-)
Thanks for reading xxx
you are one brave lady and i salute you . .. keep going the way you are and let no-one tell you NO .... best wishes BB
ReplyDeleteThanks for reading and taking time to comment. Much appreciated :-)
DeleteYou are totally blinking amazing!Read this with tears in my eyes for what you survived,keep living the life you wish for and be always strong -I will never complain of being too busy again! xxxxxx
DeleteThanks for reading and lovely comment. Sorry for the tears! :-)
DeleteI've read your blog after seeing the magazine article in Women's Cycling . I'm new to cycling and I'm certainly not as brave and tenacious as you. But if you would let me know if your route passes through North Yorkshire I would like to join you for part of the epic ride.
ReplyDeleteHi Anne! Only just seen your message. Thank you for taking the time to read the article and the blog. The route will be posted on here as soon as we get round to actually doing some route planning! Then if there is any part that suits you would be great to have you join :-) Many thanks and Happy New Year to you!
Delete