Hello there! I see you've found my little piece about chronic pain. Nice you could make it!

You must have some interest...... because you're here. The reason I say this, is because all of us - at one time or another - have known what it's like to feel pain. However, it is another issue entirely to live life day after day with chronic, sometimes acute, debilitating, pain.

I thought I knew about pain. I have had my share of aches and pains like everyone else. I've had back pain, sore muscles, and headaches that I thought would take my head off! None of the previous ailments prepared me for what was soon to come. I worked some pretty physically demanding jobs in my life. When I was younger, a few of us used to brag about our abilities. Some of my friends and I used to try to lift motor blocks out of vehicles. We consistantly competed for weight lifting records. There was nothing we couldn't pick up, throw, or defeat!. I do honestly believe at that time my entire ego was located in the middle of my back.

I went on to college. I expected to secure a vocation that didn't involve hard physical labor. I came out of college with a new outlook. I could now face the world in a leather swivel chair at a big hardwood desk, right? WRONG!!! The local jobs out of school were paying considerably less money than manual labor. Several dollars less per hour. This led me to a crossroads. I was to work with my head and earn less, or I could use my back and move right on up. I believe I did what was meant to be. I secured a manual labor job.

After working many years in various positions, I finally got a chance to drive a semi-truck. I thought this actually sounded pretty good. Finally, a chance for my wife and I to earn fairly good money, and see the country-side for free. It turned out to be quite fun! Note: If you think you know someone, try spending 24 hours a day with them, in an eight by ten foot box! I am glad my wife and I are the very best of friends. We proved this to ourselves, and came out much stronger than we went in. She and I drove a glass truck all over the US, and worked harder than I would have ever thought possible. I believe they refer to this activity as.... bonding. The truck carried 9 foot by 15 foot sheets of raw glass. This means the glass is not tempered, and will break easily. About three inches difference up or down with one tire, and an entire load of glass (45 thousand pounds) will shatter. This process expands a persons job title to include the words "broom operations technician". Needless to say, this builds character!

I worked the driving jobs - changing over to local hauling once and awhile - for about 5 years. Then one day we received a message that they were going to cut our pay. I can understand a small cut to continue operations, but they were asking us to take 50% less than our current pay! We went to the union to try and stop this from happening. We all voted to strike, but were still faced with the decision to take or to leave it. I opted to quit. I was not about to pay union dues in exchange for nothing. I fought the company, and won the ability to collect unemployment. The state agreed that all workers should receive unemployment benefits.

I lived ok on what I was receiving from unemployment, however, I wasn't very satisfied with life. I have worked hard all my life, and I receive a lot of satisfaction from doing so. I began my search for a new job.

I secured a local job working for the parks department. It was my job to manicure, and help design the layout of, city parks. I was just about far enough into my work to start enjoying it, when my life changed forever.

I can remember placing the oil drum, on the back of the truck. They are heavy, about 650 pounds. I turned real sharp, and felt something give in my back. A little later on, I was shoveling gravel and bark with a very wide snow type shovel. I twisted hard with a full load in the shovel, and my back gave way again. I fell to the ground in pain. I couldn't move my legs. I laid on the ground for awhile, wondering how I was going to get help. After ten or fifteen minutes, some feeling returned to my legs. I crawled to the cab of the truck, and made my way inside. As I was trying to get the radio, one of my co-workers arrived. He saw that I was in trouble, and drove me to the shop. By that time, I could almost walk again. The shop foreman told me to go home. He mentioned something about a hot bath and some rest.

I made an appointment with the local G.P. He ran some tests and recommended bed rest, muscle relaxers, pain pills, and no activity. I stayed in bed 3 or 4 days, and then the pain came back. This time it was unbearable. I made another appointment.

When I returned to the doctor for the second time, I was in bad shape. This time they took x-rays from all angles, and checked my reflexes. The results came back, and I was under the impression that there wasn't anything they couldn't tell me. I got the news. My back was broken, but they couldn't tell if it was from the accident, or something that had been taking place over time. Three vertabra busted, and the disks between them were crushed. The doctor made the statement. I may or may not, ever walk again.

Needless to say, I was completely shocked. I thought for a minute he probably made a big mistake. I knew that I was just fine, I would get some rest, and be good as new.

I was allowed to think this way, but it couldn't have been further from the truth, as I was to soon discover. Time kind of slowed down for me. I rested, took my medicine, and tried to make the best of things. As the weeks past, I started to worry that things may not necessarily get back to so called, normal. I still suffered from an immense amount of pain. My legs didn't work about half the time, and I sometimes needed help just to go to the bathroom.

After 3 or 4 months, I knew there was definitely a real problem. I not only wasn't getting any better, I was worse. My legs had an unbelievable amount of nerve pain shooting down the back side of them. My back felt as though someone hit me with a bat. The muscles would cramp in the middle of my back, causing a 4 inch diameter indentation to form. I wasn't walking, and I needed help for the smallest of daily living activities. When these types of things persist, soon the problem becomes a mental one. The mind starts to tell you some very disruptive things, and instills ideas that are not healthy.

As with any disaster, there comes a time to cope with what has happened. Most things can - and have to be - addressed and dealt with. The problem however lies within the mind. It can heal you, or it can drive you into the ground. The mind can diminish or it can magnify the problem. When a young body is suddenly put out of commision, the mind tends to dwell on all the things that were, not on the things that are. It tends to say, "we used to.....or, we could have.....or, now what"? In other words, the present and the future tend to appear very bleak. In reality, if you are still alive and breathing, the show must go on!

I was beginning to say a lot of very negative things to myself. "I am not good for anything anymore". "I can't even walk, much less take care of myself". "I have to rely on someone else for everything". These kinds of thoughts will eat you up. They will sneak in and break even the strongest will to live. Somehow, with the help of God, - who by the way, somehow, seems to get the blame for it all, when something like this happens - I made it through that part of my life. I never did really accept the fact that I was not exactly the same person. I also could not accept the simple reality, that there were some activities I would never again participate in.

About a year after my accident, I was still in a lot of pain. I couldn't hardly move around, and I needed help to get dressed, shower, and even use the bathroom. I made several appointments with the doctor, and continued to see him on a monthly basis. He decided to run some more tests, to see if there was progress. When the tests were finished, there was more to deal with. It seems as though, I was losing more of my spine. The bones had nothing to cushion themselves on, and they were slowly degenerating. There were now more vertabra that were cracked, or broken.

I began to paint, play music, and anything else I could do sitting down. I still could not accept the fact that I would not get better. The local doctor sent me to a larger city to do some more tests. After that came more results. Somehow, I was shown to have a defective gene. The condition was hereditary, and very permanent. I was crazy with fright. I was young, and would have to accept living this way for the rest of my life.

Shortly after this news, my family and friends told me they thought it was a good idea to apply for Social Security. This did not set well with me, as I had worked hard doing something all of my life. I applied - and with some help from others - was convinced that it was my money. After all, I had always paid into it.

Two years after my accident, I lost it. I lost the will to live. I lost my will to try. Most of all, I lost the will to be there for my family. I became angry. There were times when I hit walls, times when I wanted to "check out", and times when I wouldn't even speak to anyone. In my mind, I was a complete and total gimp, and would never amount to anything. I was a very angry young man.

I managed to make it through that time. It was anything but easy. I had one child, and one on the way. I had no hope in my mind of ever walking, or even caring for myself. I fought hard just to stay alive. Then, like a miracle, my music took over. I began to play, and practice like never before. I was mentally, getting better. I started to play out once and awhile. Some of the doctors began to try different medications. I found out that with the right combination of medication and therapy, I could walk. For more information regarding music, click here.

Here I am eleven years after the fact. I have been to over 17 different specialists, and several local MD's. I've been through two different chronic pain clinics, and have undergone many tests. These include anything you could possibly imagine. Now, thanks to a new pain specialist, I have a regiment of physical therapy, medication, and hydro-tharapy, daily. I am able to - for the most part - take care of my own personal needs.

I play music as often as I can. I play for hire in many different local bands. The instruments I currently play are: The guitar, electric bass, keyboards, harmonicas, and percussion, drums, vibes, chimes, congas, etc.. I have also had the privilege of working with a grammy winner, two winners of the "Western Swing Hall of Fame" award, and a grammy nominee.

To say that my accident changed my life, is an understatement. As for feeling it was all negative, I can't say that. Some days are very hard. Then again, I had hard days, before I was injured. Everyone does. I have a family that has hung in there through it all, and are there for me whenever I need them. More importantly, I am still around to care for them. My children and my wife need me, too. Note: For more more information about my family, please click here.

My main goal now is to help others in similar situations. I wish nothing but the best, for my fellow man. I have heard it said that if someone loses their eyesight, they soon have better hearing than anyone with working eyes. When someone loses the use of their legs, they learn to do more with their hands, and arms. We all have a cross of some kind to bear. Each and every one of us needs to use the talents and abilities that God gave us to press onward. I want to thank you, for your valuable time. No matter who you are, or what you don't have, use what is there to better yourself, and to help others around you. Anyone can be a person that someone else - or you for that matter - can be proud of. Press onward, and live the life that God has blessed you with.

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