The treatments are continuing to work. I’ve had strings of 4 or 5 days at a time where life has felt close to normal. I still experience some of the pain and discomfort from the results of the demyelination, but it’s tolerable, allowing me to function at a better level than I have for months.
I had a follow up phone call with my neurologist last week. After three rounds of treatments, with the fourth coming at the end of this month, I wanted to touch base with him about how things were going. While we were talking I mentioned to him that I was experiencing some of the usual symptoms — pain in my hands, feet, toes, and joints along with the continued hypersensitive skin. He said these things will take some time to completely resolve. I also mentioned to him that I am experiencing some new things. I told him how my leg muscles will some times be fine then at other times cramp up really bad or go a different direction and just want to give out. Brenda was sitting there with me listening to the doctor’s response which brought tears to our eyes.
He said, “Those symptoms are usually a sign that the nerves are regenerating.”
Nerves regenerating — continued hope with a sustained belief that the process is working and a motivation to keep moving forward. It’s funny how things you never would have found even a bit interesting in the past can move you to tears in the present.
My present reality is something I couldn’t have imagined six months ago. I knew nothing of CIDP at that point. In my most creative moment I wouldn’t have pieced together the symptoms that I have experienced for the past half of a year. But in the midst of it I have learned a lot. One of these lessons is even in the midst of pain there is good to be found. Most recently in the doctor’s words to me on the phone. The pain I feel is the nerves regenerating — the pain I feel is my healing process.
It’s kind of a crazy thing. There are times when trouble comes your way — no matter what shape it takes — and it carries you into a dark place. You may have put yourself in a position for it to happen, but many times the dark place occurs outside of your control. You search around for a way out of the darkness only to find that getting out is just as painful as having gotten there.
There’s an old riddle that asks, “How far can you run into a forest?” The answer is, “Halfway — because after that, you’re running out.” I may still be in the forest, but I’m past the halfway mark — I’m on my way out. There may be more obstacles to overcome, challenges to get beyond, and hardships to endure, but it’s all about perspective.
Whatever trouble may have come your way, however far it has carried you, it can only take you halfway into the forest. After that, you can find your renewed strength in knowing that you’re on the way out. My prayer is that you continue moving forward and never stop running to daylight. I hope to see you on the forest’s edge, with your back to the trees, laughing, and running with abandon. I’ll be there. Waiting for you. And we’ll throw the biggest party that field has ever seen.