Ever wonder about the average length of time devoted to writing and editing posts on this forum? All I can picture is a bunch of people hunched over a keyboard, decorated in icepacks/heating packs/support braces repeatedly rewriting their post and abusing their Roget Thesaurus to ensure their intellectual presentation to a bunch of strangers irrelevant to their likelihood of being hired/fired is sound.
Anyway, on to Day 1 business: I am probably at a mid-level of acceptance of my self-diagnosis of TMS. I have had over five years of chronic elbow tendinitis in both arms that appeared to be a result of laptop computer overuse. I no longer type-- I use dictation software and learned to use the computer mouse with my foot. However the pain remained. I have tried two different physical therapists, trigger point self-treatment with tennis balls, cortisone injections, prolotherapy, hormone therapy, massage therapy, acupuncture, an elimination diet, and even drinking breastmilk (Based on the hypothesis I may have an autoimmune disorder from reading this and other articles: http://www.nytimes.com/2013/02/03/magazine/the-boy-with-a-thorn-in-his-joints.html?_r=0).
Like anyone with chronic pain, I have repeatedly gotten my hopes deliriously raised and then dashed, so as I noted earlier, I am only at a mid-level of acceptance regarding TMS. However, I have the history of chronic migraines and some of the personality characteristics consistent with TMS including an inner pageant-parent voice doling out brutal criticism and accomplishment-based love, the extreme prioritization of others’ reactions to me over my own well-being, and a pretty high, non-clinical level of hypochondria.
I have the standard fears and doubts that this will be another failed experiment and that even if I do have TMS that I will be unable to successfully persuade myself that emotional torment is the root of my physical pain. However, a life without TMS would mean I could play the violin again, run without plantar fasciitis or back pain, pick up new forms of exercise and physical hobbies without fearing the sudden manifestation of a new form of pain, type again, lift and carry heavy things and loved ones, and hopefully develop the ability to pay attention to life rather than my running monologue (and thus have a functioning memory), and fall asleep without the need for sleeping pills or alcohol to release the tension in my chest and voices in my head.
Anyway, on to Day 1 business: I am probably at a mid-level of acceptance of my self-diagnosis of TMS. I have had over five years of chronic elbow tendinitis in both arms that appeared to be a result of laptop computer overuse. I no longer type-- I use dictation software and learned to use the computer mouse with my foot. However the pain remained. I have tried two different physical therapists, trigger point self-treatment with tennis balls, cortisone injections, prolotherapy, hormone therapy, massage therapy, acupuncture, an elimination diet, and even drinking breastmilk (Based on the hypothesis I may have an autoimmune disorder from reading this and other articles: http://www.nytimes.com/2013/02/03/magazine/the-boy-with-a-thorn-in-his-joints.html?_r=0).
Like anyone with chronic pain, I have repeatedly gotten my hopes deliriously raised and then dashed, so as I noted earlier, I am only at a mid-level of acceptance regarding TMS. However, I have the history of chronic migraines and some of the personality characteristics consistent with TMS including an inner pageant-parent voice doling out brutal criticism and accomplishment-based love, the extreme prioritization of others’ reactions to me over my own well-being, and a pretty high, non-clinical level of hypochondria.
I have the standard fears and doubts that this will be another failed experiment and that even if I do have TMS that I will be unable to successfully persuade myself that emotional torment is the root of my physical pain. However, a life without TMS would mean I could play the violin again, run without plantar fasciitis or back pain, pick up new forms of exercise and physical hobbies without fearing the sudden manifestation of a new form of pain, type again, lift and carry heavy things and loved ones, and hopefully develop the ability to pay attention to life rather than my running monologue (and thus have a functioning memory), and fall asleep without the need for sleeping pills or alcohol to release the tension in my chest and voices in my head.
