Am I Crazy?
It's days like today that really make me question myself and my decision to go for this huge epic adventure, hiking the PCT southbound next year. I woke up and could immediately tell was going to be one of those days. I've readjusted my attitude around my new life dealing with this chronic pain and neurological issues and for the most part I can carry on with my life without anyone having any idea at all that I am not 100%. 99% of the time I am positive, happy and annoyingly chipper, but these 1% days, well my head cranks it to another level and everything falls apart, literally, I have dropped every single thing I've picked up today.
The foggy feeling is the first warning sign things are not operating well and it's going to be a challenging day. It's a weird haze that blurs my thoughts and slows all my reactions. I feel like perhaps I am stuck in slow motion as the rest of the world races by. I've gotten used to the sharp stabbing pains, that feel like someone is driving an ice pick into the back of my skull over and over again, up to dozens of times in an hour. People comment or notice when I reflexively wince or close my right eye awkwardly as if somehow shutting it will protect it from the pain racing it's way from the nerves exiting my cervical spine. But those reflexes are habit and really the pain part is not the bit that gets me down.
It's the slow mind and the clumsy hands that irritate the heck out of me. Bending down to pick the crap up I keep dropping over and over is always a sure trigger for the pain to shoot off, the nerves voicing their objections loudly to my attempts to bend my neck in such a way, and more often than not the stabbing nerve response just makes me drop it again anyway.
It's so frustrating when your body just stops working the way you have grown accustomed to and wish it to. To go from clinging to tiny nubbins on rock faces to not being able to pick up the toothpaste cap, urg, so maddening.
I'm blessed to share my life with such an amazing companion, Emily has been a crucial element to my being able to push thru and still live the active sporting life I crave. Our relationship was always close, but now relying on her to help me get thru these really hard days has pushed our bond to a whole new level. She's become an expert at picking up all the things, even tiny little toothpaste caps that my silly fingers struggle to grasp. The relief of knowing I can use her skills to avoid having to bend over and send the shooting pain thru my head, oh man, I cannot even tell you how lovely it is to know I can avoid that stabbing.
We are currently working hard to adapt her service skills to accommodate backpacking life, retrieving the anti-seizure meds from my pack, negotiating picking up dropped trekking poles, pulling tent zipper tabs and such.
I know it's crazy at times like this, when normal life is a challenge, to even consider such a thing like hiking across the country. But I refuse to let these 1% days get in the way of living the life I dream of, and knowing I have this amazing little dog at my side makes me think, maybe together we can actually pull off what seems impossible.
It may take everything we have, but someday we'll get back to that place I was a couple years ago, running Ultra Marathons, rock climbing and eating mountains for breakfast. I am grateful that all the lessons this life has gifted me, most of all the ability to always feel the light even during these dark days. To have faith that we will do our best and have the experience we are meant to have.
I know this day will pass, that the fog will lift and my mind will clear. I trust that when these days find me out on the trail, we'll push thru and make it work. Together Em & I will sort it out, we are both pretty good problem solvers.