A caged animal. That’s literally what you begin to feel
like when you have to live
your life within such tight
boundaries. I mean, I guess it’s OK in the beginning, when you’re still oblivious.
I
was tested for food allergies
way back in elementary school. After the test results confirmed an allergy to
dairy, I immediately stopped eating dairy. I remember having sushi for lunch sometimes and
all the other kids were like, “EEEEWWWW. What IS that????” Yeah,
I was that weird kid who ate something unusual for lunch. BIG DEAL!!!! It
bothered me a bit, but I didn’t have the
capacity to
consider having to be that “weird kid”
all the way into adulthood. Despite
our efforts, eliminating
dairy
from my diet wasn’t enough. It didn’t stop me from throwing up
ALL of the time. In restaurants, out in the parking lots of restaurants, in
public bathrooms, malls, shopping centers, in our friends’ cars, friends’
houses, family outings, anywhere in our house all night long…EVERYWHERE. Of course, this was in addition to chronic
pink eye, chronic strep throat, endless
trips to the school nurse, bizarre
rashes, chronic stomach aches, the mumps, tons of absences, cyclic vomiting… The whole nine yards. There
were even times when my family and I would get into our car to go out and once
we reached the intersection at the end of our neighborhood, I
would tell my mom to turn around because I was going to be sick. BUT, I was too young to see the big picture. My world was still so tiny. I only saw what was
two feet in front of me. Then
came middle school. More broken bones. More chronic stomach aches. A wicked case
of pneumonia. A cough so serious that I
was forced to get help from a speech therapist. I needed someone to help me stop coughing
because the principal was angry about my disruptive coughing. Double
ear infection.
Sprained ankle. RSD
diagnosis. Tick
bite (that would not be acknowledged or addressed for another 10 years). Pain. Lots and lots and lots and lots and lots
and lots of pain.
Humiliation. Misunderstandings. Frustration. Sadness. Anxiety. Confusion. Disbelief. Dropping out of the eighth grade due to the
unbearable amount of pain I was in, plus the fact that it was hard for me to
even walk. Homeschooling. No
friends. Moving
to Philly. A month spent at Children’s Hospital of
Philadelphia in
an inhumanely
rigorous
and intense physical therapy program (in an effort to squash my relentless RSD that
was spreading throughout my body like wildfire). I remember my very first day. I was answering basic questions from some
gentleman, and I remember telling him that I was so excited/happy to be there because it
meant I could get better.
The guy gave me a strange look and said, “It
MUST be your first day.” I
thought, why would he say that? What’s so wrong with me feeling happy about
being here…? There
were times during the program that I wanted to die. The pain was so intense that I couldn’t stand
being alive. RSD is pain,
so basically I worked out whilst in excruciating pain. I
would tell my PT I was having my period so that I could get off the treadmill,
but what I really did was run to the bathroom and call my mom. I lied on the floor of the bathroom and called her, telling her to
get me the hell out of
the program. And my PT would come to the bathroom, pull me out, and put
me back on the treadmill.
When I would come home in the evenings to our little row house in downtown
Philly, my mom would have to basically carry me up the stairs because I was in too much pain to put one
foot in front of the other. Every
day was filled with EIGHT long, never-ending hours of hardcore, hellish, militant-like physical and occupational
therapy. Every night ended in tears. Every
morning began with tears and dread. Kids
at my middle school thought
I was dead.
Food limitations? HA! Those were the least of my worries at the time. I was too
worried about losing
my ability to walk
since the RSD had spread from one ankle to the other, as well as up my legs to
the rest of my body. The
pain was debilitating. I’d
say it was almost paralyzing. It was like I was spending my life in a torture chamber, and there was no way out.
*To be continued*
Love and healing light,
Allie
XOXOXOX
*To be continued*
Love and healing light,
Allie
XOXOXOX