Darkness

Over the coming weeks I faced many procedures and tests. I had a bone scan. Basically they inject radioactive material in you and take pictures of your bones. I had countless lumbar sympathetic blocks. This is where they use a fluoroscope and inject pain medications and steroids around your spinal cord. Multiple MRIs and on and on and on.

By this point the pain was unbearable, and later I found out that severe chronic pain causes severe depression. So there I was. Laying in bed, wishing I had the energy to get up and kill myself. I knew if I could just die, the pain would go away. I would lay there and my mom would talk to me for hours begging me to get out of bed to go to physical therapy or to the hospital for another treatment. I had to go somewhere five days a week, and all I wanted to do was go to sleep and never wake up. I know now that the pain was the only thing that saved my life, I was hurting too much to get up and end it all. I remember so clearly the sound of my dad's guns in his gun shop calling my name. Telling me that they could make it all go away. Luckily for me, he keeps the shop and safes under tight lock and key. It got so bad that my mom started hiding knives and anything else that I could hurt myself with, including my medications. She handed them to me every day and watched me take them.

The sleep deprivation also was at an all time high. The lack of sleep was causing me to scratch myself unconsciously and pull out my hair. I would scratch and scratch until someone stopped me, or I noticed blood. I still have faint scars on my arms and face to this day.

What is RSD

I had to find out what I had, so I went to the computer, I typed in "What is RSD?" and this is what I found.

RSD (reflex sympathetic dystrophy), also known as complex regional pain syndrome (CRPS), is a complex disorder that may develop as a result of injury (which is most common), surgery or disease. RSD consists of unexplained intense pain in a part of the body which has been injured, and includes altered sensation and reduced motion in the body part affected. Once thought to be a rare disorder, reflex sympathetic dystrophy occurs in people of all ethnic backgrounds, with women affected twice as often as men. RSD most commonly occurs in adults in their 20s to 50s, but may occur at any age.

Symptoms

Symptoms of RSD often begin days or weeks after an injury, usually in an arm or leg which has been injured. The symptoms may include:

• unexplained intense pain, out of proportion to the injury
• swelling
• altered skin temperature, either warm or cold
• altered skin color
• reduced motion of the affected part, and movement makes the symptoms worse
• sensitivity to touch
• abnormal sweating

Treatment

Early diagnosis and treatment of RSD is best. A pain specialist should be part of the treatment team for an individual affected by RSD. Steroid medications can provide pain relief. Opioid pain medications are also effective. Other treatments may include antiepileptic drugs, antidepressants, and creams applied to the skin for treatment of the pain. Some individuals may have pain relief with injection of local anesthetic around nerves to the affected area (nerve block).

Physical and occupational therapy also are important in the treatment of RSD to improve the movement of the affected part of the body.

Outlook

When treated early, many individuals with RSD have relief of symptoms within 18 months. Others individuals, unfortunately, develop chronic pain and disability. Researchers do not know why some people improve while others do not. It is also not known exactly what causes RSD. Future research will no doubt discover how and why RSD begins, how it develops, and identify those individuals at risk for chronic disease.

I really didn't know what to think, I just hoped that this new doctor was as good as everyone said he was.

What the heck is going on?

Dr. E. didn't know why I was getting worse and not any better, so he decided to get an MRI and go from there. Wait... Finally the MRI is scheduled and performed. Wait.. Nothing. Let's start physical therapy. Wait... I do two weeks of physical therapy and the pain and swelling only gets worse. Now I am able to get around in a Cam Walker with crutches, but the pain is getting worse by the day.

Two months have now passed since my initial injury and not only am I no better, the pain is horrific and you can't even touch my ankle/foot without me almost jumping out of my skin. I am taking Vicodin, Loritab, and Darvocet for the pain, and still can't sleep at night, so the doc gives me sleeping pills. Things are going from bad to worse quickly. The only way that I can describe the pain is: put your foot in a bbq pit and never take it out. It was the most intense burning pain I have ever felt, and I just knew that one day I would look down and see the flesh on my leg just falling off.

Dr. E. didn't know what to do, so he decided that a second opinion would be the best. Wait... I was referred to a pain management specialist. After spending 6 hours waiting past my appointment time, the doctor walks in takes one look at my leg, ankle, and foot and says, "You have RSD. We need to get you in to see Dr. C." and walks out. Not knowing is horrible, now at least we know.

Finally, a diagnosis. Whew. Now at least they can do something to help me, but what is RSD? Those three little letters don't sound like much but they became a curse to me.

Dr. E.

I got an appointment with my favorite orthopedic surgeon, whom I have known for a "million" years and was able to see him the following day. I limped in favoring my ankle and told him what had happened. He shot films of my foot and ankle and told me that there were no fractures, just a deep bone bruise and that I should be back to work in two weeks. "Two weeks?" "I'll be back in a week."

Well, two weeks later I could no longer put any pressure on my foot at all and I the swelling and pain was about 5 times worse than my previous visit. Little did I know that this was the beginning of the longest 10 years of my life.

Back to the grind

Once home, life started back at it's slow pace. Life consisted of basically work. I tried to stay as busy as possible and concentrated on my job. I really loved my job. I was good at it and it brought me a lot of satisfaction.

I was working at a local hospital in the medical center, doing remodels and they were building a new wing and the work there was constant. Two weeks has passed since coming home from my wonderful vacation and I was working in a small room with another electrician and we were pulling in the wire for an electronic scan medicine cabinet. When my journeymen went to step up on a ladder that was leaned against the wall. I said "hold on, let me brace it for you", but before the words registered in his mind he was on the second rung of the ladder and it slid back on the slick tile floor. No big deal right? Wrong. My right foot was directly behind the ladder and was pinned between the ladder with all his weight and the wall behind me.

OUCH!! Man that hurt, but I didn't really think it was that big of a deal. At lunch, I told the foreman what happened and went on with my day. They following day my ankle hurt really badly and I told my boss and he let me work on blueprint take-offs so I could stay off it, and let it rest. That night I went home, took off my work boot, and my foot blew up. The swelling was horrible. That evening I decided that I should probably go to the doctor to see what was going on.

Peace and quiet

Florida was just a a tired soul needed. Days just hanging out and getting some sun at some of the worlds most beautiful beaches. We went tubing and drank a hurricane at the place that invented the hurricane. We went out and watched Greg's band, and danced and just had a blast. It was wonderful, but like everything else, vacations have to end eventually. After 2 glorious weeks in Pensacola, it was time to come home, back to reality, back to my totally messed up life. You can only escape from yourself for so long before you have to deal with all the messes you made.

Each mile that we drove closer to San Antonio, my heart grew heavier and my feeling of worthlessness started coming back. I know now that I wasn't worthless, but then, that is all I felt. I had messed my life up so much and I didn't know what to do or where to go. I say that I messed my life up, I don't blame anyone else. I made bad choices, I didn't leave when things started going bad. I don't blame any of this on anyone but me, because I only had control of me at that time, and I should have done things way differently. Strangely, I still don't blame Ray for any of this, I should have ran sooner. He was what he was, and it chose to put up with it.

My brother-in-law

Greg is one of the coolest people I have ever known. When I grow up I want to be cool like him. He is so smart and handsome and talented and laid back and a true gentleman. Greg is also an awesome musician. While on vacation we went and saw his band play at a place called Seville. His band at the time was Egg Man, and I so enjoyed myself. I was blown away by his voice and his guitar skills (mad dope skills, man). It's wonderful that my sister and Greg found each other because they are a wonderful couple. Don't get me wrong, as with any relationship it isn't perfect, and everyday isn't sunshine and roses, but in the end, they love each other madly and will get through anything together. Greg is so good for my sister, and Rene' is good for him. They don't complete each other, they compliment each other, and it's a beautiful thing.

P.S.

Greg is a number cruncher for the state of Florida. He wears the Dockers and golf shirt by day, then shreds Pink Floyd and Tom Petty by night. Too cool.

My sister

How do I describe my sister? Hmmm. First of all she is a great sister. It took a long time for us to get there, but it was worth the wait. She is an awesome, strong, beautiful, smart, feisty, woman with big hair, a big personality and a big heart. She is a true southern lady, and I love it. I really admire my sister and I hope that I will be as good a mom as she has always been. Her road was not an easy one, but she came out on top with a man that is worthy of her love. She has struggled with domestic abuse, being a single mom, difficulties with her sons and their dads, but she overcame it, and I admire her for it.

I wish that Louisiana, Alabama and Mississippi would trade places with Florida, so we wouldn't be a 12 hour drive from one anther. I would love to grow old with my sister nearby.

Sunny Florida

The two weeks we spent in Pensacola were wonderful. First of all I love my sister dearly and I don't get to spend nearly enough time with her and her wonderful husband Greg. I also got two weeks of fun with my nephews. They are great kids and we had many adventures. Getting lost going to the beach (only 5 miles away from the house), by the way, never take directions from an 8 year old, big mistake. Loosing children at the Naval Air Museum and nearly getting kicked out because I couldn't keep the boys from touching things. Luke falling through the garage ceiling and shaving off all the boys hair. Fun times.

I love all three boys, Lucas was 14, Jonathon was 8 and my precious Joshua was 7. I fell in love with Josh on this trip. For only being a little boy he had, and still has an old soul. He was a true southern gentleman and grew into an awesome man. All of my boys did. I love them all dearly, but Josh is something a little special. I know that it makes me a horrible aunt for picking a favorite, but for some reason that soft spoken little boy with his thick southern accent just stole my heart.

Road Trip

It was so great. We jumped in my little blue car and took off for our adventure. First stop New Orleans. Well, actually we did stop prior to the big easy, but only for gas and rest room breaks. Now remember neither of us had ever driven through New Orleans or for that matter out of the Lone Star state without supervision and navigation. Anyway, we end up in New Orleans and start looking for Bourbon Street, for we planned to party. After about 2 hours of looking and ending up on the wrong end of Bourbon Street, we finally found it, checked into our hotel and started drinking. We drank and drank and drank. I drank things I have never heard of and were given drinks from men I did not know. At one point we ended up on a balcony with the Marine Corps band. Man they were cute. Got to love the Marines.

I finally hit my hotel room bed (alone) about 5 in the morning. Man that was fun from what I can remember. In the morning we took a Voodoo tour of the city then headed for sunny Florida. With each passing mile, my worries blew away like the torn out pages of a book. I knew things were going to get better for me, and this is when it was starting. Life was really going to be ok.

In the meantime

My whole life didn't revolve around Ray, but don't tell him that. I did do other things, I was a "functioning addict". Like I said before I volunteered as a firefighter and an EMT, and I also had a job. I loved my job. I was good at my job, and it was a wonderful escape. At work I was smart, and strong and competent. I was an electrical apprentice. All I ever wanted to do was follow in my Dad's footsteps and become a Union Electrician. By the time I left Ray it was 1996 and I was a second year apprentice, and my journeyman loved me. He was like a second dad to me and he took me under his wing and taught me so much. I will always have a huge spot in my heart for Tommy. I see him every now and again, and I know he won't be around forever, so I always thank him for having so much confidence in me when I had none of my own.

It was time for my annual two week vacation and I was so happy to be getting away. I needed to get far away from temptation and go visit my big sister Rene' in Florida. I was so looking forward to driving to Pensacola by way of New Orleans. A friend of mine was coming along and we were two young girls on their first road trip without "adult" supervision, watch out.

I needed rehab

When you are mad, it's easy to stay away, but slowly that anger softens, and you start remembering the good times. Drugs are like that. You wake up in a gutter, no money and feeling like death and eventually the good feeling is all you want again. You know it is the worst thing in the world that will more than likely kill you, and yet, it is all you crave. If there were boyfriend rehab, I would have needed to be an inpatient. I physically hurt when I thought about him, but I never picked up the phone, I never drove by his house. I went cold turkey.

My fight was finally gone

After what seem like an argument that went on for ever, in a rage I stormed out of the house and walked the 1/2 block to a local gas station to calm down. After a while I walked back and there was Ray standing in the drive way leaning on my car.

"Where did you go?" Ray asked

"Lou's, I don't want to talk any more."

"Did you call the cops on me?"

"What does it really matter, now, will you move so I can leave?"

At this point Ray grabbed me from behind, put his arm around my neck with the crook of his elbow over my wind pipe, and started to strangle me.

"If you called the cops you stupid bitch, I will wait until they get here and break your neck in front of them so I have a reason to go to jail."

I had no fight left in me at all. I was tired of fighting and I was ready to go. It was at that moment that I realized how far from God I had allowed myself to wander. I had no relationship with Him and I knew that when I died he would reject me the same way that I had rejected him, and I deserved nothing more. I was starting to get tunnel vision and my knees were buckling when he finally let go and let me fall to the ground. I laid there for what seemed like forever, scared to get up, too weak even if I had wanted to. Ray had gone in the house and apparently didn't really care what happened to me. I just cried and cried as I lay in a heap in the driveway, and I knew that if I stayed with him, eventually, he would kill me.

Finally I got up and got in my car and drove to my parent's house. I sat at the table and cried to my mom who had heard this all before, and I'm sure by this point she was as tired of me and my problems as I was. She knew I would go back, I always did. She saw the addiction and was worn out by it. As with any addict, you have to want to get well, and up to this point all I wanted was Ray.

So Charming

Don't get me wrong, Ray was so charming and charismatic. He could convince you of anything with a smile and a tilt of his head. He could also be very sweet and romantic, and was very passionate. Unfortunately, his passion could get very intense at times. His Latino passion and my German hard-headedness made for some full-out, no holds barred, fights. Neither he or I would give in and the arguments could get ugly. At first they were always verbal, and I would usually walk away feeling as though I had done something terribly wrong. I always said the wrong thing, looked the wrong way, or had "that look" on my face and Ray was really good at making everything my fault, and I believed him. Unfortunately, my addiction to him, like any dangerous drug, dulled my senses and I was held prisoner to his will. Before I knew it, I went from a smart, independent, woman, to a little girl who depended on her "man" to make all the decisions.

Once, after a particularly nasty argument, I left him. Walked out and didn't look back. I didn't call and took another route to work so I didn't have to pass his house on the way. I was able to stay away for only a few short months, and in that time I met David who felt that beating the hell out of me was a competitive sport. So like most addicts, I ended up crawling back to Ray, because, "hey, he doesn't get drunk and hit me, so how bad is he really?". Dumb call on my part.

For a while after our reconciliation, things were good, until I caught him kissing and groping a mutual friend of ours. At the moment I just walked away, as not to cause a scene, but it really hurt. Was she that much thinner and prettier than me? Why would he do that when he always got so upset when I would even casually look at another man? What was wrong with me?

Obviously, I was the problem. I was not a good enough girl friend and that is why he felt it necessary to cheat on me. It had to be my fault. I didn't mention it for a long time, then one day I did, and I still to this day regret opening my mouth. It was horrible, I had never seen this side of Ray and I had never been so scared in my life. We yelled and agued and fought, then he crossed the line.

How did I get here?

The year was 1994 and my life had gone to a place that I, still to this day, don't understand how I got there. I was single and after a long string of horrible relationships I met Ray. Ray was a firefighter in a sister fire department and it was lust at first sight. Not love, because what we had could never be described as love.

I was a firefighter and EMT with our local volunteer fire department, and I loved it. Adrenalin was my drug of choice. I was 19 and was young, blonde and in great shape. I met Ray for the first time at a local elementary school when our departments were showing kids how to "stop, drop and roll", and letting them see us in our full bunker gear and know that we were there to help in an emergency and not to be afraid. The attraction was immediate. We discretely flirted the whole day, and I had to find out more about him. When you only know a first name, it difficult, but I also knew where he worked, so it helped. Unfortunately, the chief's name was also Ray, so it was a little more challenging, but I finally tracked him down, and before long we were dating.

Ray was 13 years older that I a was, and it was so thrilling to be dating an older man. He was so handsome. Dark hair, dark skin. Ray's family was from Spain, and with my German/Irish background we were quite the couple.

It wasn't always bad, but the signs were there from the beginning, but unfortunately, I was too young to see them. Looking back, I can see now that Ray saw me as a China doll of sorts. Bring me out, show me off, then go back a be quiet. I think that he liked the way I looked on his arm more than he actually liked me. I on the other hand became quickly addicted to him. I say addicted, because I craved being around him, good or bad. He was a drug to me, and I don't know why but I needed him, and he knew it and used my addiction. He had the control, and took full advantage of it.

I am a mother.

I am a mother. It has taken a long time for me to be able to say that anywhere but in my head. I have 2 beautiful little girls that keep me very busy. Olivia will be 7 in a few weeks and Madeline is almost 8 months old. I also have a son named Ryan who is 14, however he doesn't live with us, he lives with his adoptive mom.

I am a birth mom and I can finally hold my head up without shame and say it (not shame of my son, my own shame that I stupidly placed on myself). Most of my family do not know about Ryan, because the vast majority of my family could never understand what I have gone through. Mine is a long story and I hope that someone out there can get something out of it. I know that getting it out of my brain will help me.