My last post was not just seemingly trite song lyrics, in fact they hold profound meaning to me in several ways pertaining to my life with illnesses. Note I said illnesses, not just Klippel-Trenaunay Syndrome. However, to prevent this post from turning into a short novel, I will just focus on the KTS aspect.

My younger college years were when my pain was at an ultimate high. I couldn't go anywhere without my stocking without experiencing a momentous amount of pain. Even with the stocking, the pain was just barely tolerable, if that. Somedays, it seemed as though there was no hope. During this time, we were trying to find a multipurpose way of treating the pain, which included surgeries and medicines. Nothing was working, which just added to my feelings of hopelessness and discontentment. 

This one time, I took a trip to Miami, Florida with my grandparents, mom, and sister. I was so elated to be in Florida (one of my favorite places), not to mention that we were going to South Beach. When we got there, we walked around for a bit exploring the oceanic surroundings (it was too cold to actually go in the water). We took some photographs, and just breathed in the beautiful air for some time. At that point, my lower leg was killing me. It hurt so incredibly bad and I just wanted off of it; actually, I needed off of it. We walked back to the car, and only then did my mom express her desire to go look around the shops. Then came my verbal tirade. “You're so fucking selfish, seriously.” I said that among many other harsh things, because clearly, she was supposed to know how exactly my leg was feeling (note the sarcasm, if you haven't already).

These verbal tirades were not exclusive to Miami, either. They happened at anywhere my leg was killing me (think mall, scenic trips). The pain was just so mind-boggling and overwhelming that I couldn't think of anything else. And this was often with the stocking, too. In the past year I have found Meloxicam (a painkiller with virtually no side effects) and it has changed my outside-of-the house persona a great deal. I love exploring now! But I think of the hell I mainly put my mom through for those couple of years. Sometimes I would force her to give me an arm while out and about because I couldn't do it on my own (and she always generously complied). Other times, while at the mall, there was a wheel-chair involved and she would always push me.

Not everyone would have put up with my tantrums, tantrums stemming mainly from pain at that point in time. But she did, and she still did whatever she could to keep me comfortable. The thing about the pain was this: when I was in such a high velocity of it, I could only see the discomfort and not beyond. The pain was just too consuming (albeit I am not making excuses for myself, either). But it's not easy. All your mind can think about is slowing down or easing the mind-numbing pain. Then, after, when the pain did die down, I would feel so utterly guilty about how I had spoken/acted. It was a vicious cycle, indeed, and not a healthy one at that.

I look back and sometimes wonder how she didn't just completely snap back at me...I don't think she ever did. Somedays, I quite frankly would have strangled my not so gracious self.

Happy Mother's Day Mom & thank you,

Arianna

& you all thought those song lyrics below were just to take up space ; )