Sometimes during early March 2017, I was at work and battled to concentrate on my tasks, and the office was too noisy to dictate, so I decided it would be a good idea to loan an isolated office to get my work done. Little did I know that this was to be my last day at work.
Me recounting that day is difficult, not because of what transpired but rather that it is all foggy at best and nonexistent at worst. I clearly remember getting to work and repossessing an office to go dictate in, after that things are a little more opaque. I can tell you that I had a sharp pain from my ring and little finger to my elbow, I remember that much.
From there, I have no idea how much time passed before I found myself scouring on the floor, at some point, I must have passed out, but I can’t be sure. I remember trying to call for help, but I can’t remember hearing my voice. I know I eventually phoned for help, my manager and my general manager, neither responded. Finally, I called my wife, all I could utter was “help, come to fetch me”, and again things became fuzzy.
What happened between that moment and my general manager finding me on the floor is a mystery to me. All I remember is my wife and mother arriving to pick me up and bring my car home. I ended up in the hospital again.
In the hospital, things got complicated; I was immediately directed to the emergency rooms, my neurologist was called. The emergency room doctors sent me for tests; these were an ultrasound of my shoulder, a few x-rays, and an MRI. Nothing indicated anything wrong, except the fact that I could not string a sentence together to save my life. My arm had gone a shade of bluish-grey pink, and my hand was severely swollen. My neurologist admitted defeat that day; he said that beyond the pain killers, there was little he could do.
If it was not for the valiant effort of my family and my occupational therapist, I can’t tell you what would have happened to me back then.
On that same day, I was declared unfit for duty, as it would turn out this is still the case today. I was also forbidden to drive and, though I never got told, I highly suspect there was an order for my neurologist to keep a close eye on me.
And so I began a journey where I was always in pain, 24 hours a day, 365 days a week but more on that in future posts. This is not a story of despair, nor is it a story of hope. This is a story of perseverance and tenacity, one which I hope will help others in my predicament and one that will help those that face our pain with us daily, our families, friends and co-workers.
Never give up, never surrender, these are not just words for me; this is my mantra, my way of life. As you read this blog, you will see these words often, they with my support group have probably saved my life.