I think that hope is the most important thing someone can have when dealing with a chronic diagnosis or illness.
I didn’t have any hope a few months ago. While I love my life, I had resigned myself to living in severe chronic pain with absolutely no help on the horizon. All of my specialists pointed to a different problem—muscular, mechanical (joint), rheumatologic. And however nicely they put it, the message was the same: “Sorry, we don’t know how to help you.”
My age combined with all the variables of my medical history does make for a tough case. None of my doctors could figure out the cause of my pain, which meant that they could not eliminate my symptoms (not for a lack of trying). With every treatment that failed, a little bit more of my hope died. It may sound dramatic, but I was convinced that I would always be stuck in a Rubik’s Cube of a body that no one knew how to solve.
Fast-forward about three months ago, my pain escalated. Now it is hard to go to sleep at night. The throbbing of my left hip keeps me awake. A deeply aching pain follows me around throughout the day. Finally I broke down and told my parents I wanted to use the last weapon in our arsenal. I wanted to go to a pain management specialist.
I had been putting it off because I felt that if the pain management specialist didn’t have any answers, any last shred of hope I could cling to would be gone. But I was tired of suffering. Despite how final going to a pain management specialist felt, it seemed to be the only option left.
One of my fears going to a doctor who treats my chronic pain is that they won’t believe me. I am younger than most chronic pain patients and have had chronic pain for a very long time, and because of that, some doctors won’t treat me.
The pain management specialist we found is a very nice and knowledgeable doctor. She believed that I was in pain, which is so validating. In less than 15 minutes, she had a possible diagnosis for me. Considering that I have been seeing specialists for years to treat my chronic pain and they have since ran out of ideas, I was impressed (and a little skeptical).
The diagnosis the pain management specialist believes I have is called piriformis syndrome. This syndrome involves the piriformis muscle, a small muscle of the hip and lower back. When this muscle is spastic or tight, it can make movements with the hip quite painful.
In that moment, I was filled with both disbelief and euphoria. I couldn’t believe that a doctor I had known for 15 minutes actually had come up with a diagnosis and a corresponding plan to treat it. I was also almost euphoric because I had gone into the appointment fully expecting to be told that I couldn’t be helped. For so long, I believed that my body was hopeless. With two little words, my doctor sparked the hope inside of me that had been missing.
Even if my upcoming procedure for piriformis syndrome doesn’t work, I am still grateful for my pain management specialist. I thought that going to a pain management doctor would be the end of the road, but instead I have a possible new path. I realized that my body may be different than others, but that doesn’t mean that hope can’t exist.
Because that’s the thing about hope. Hope shines in the dark places. Hope is the crack of light in a door that you thought would always be closed. Hope is the motivator that encourages you to never give up. And even in the most difficult circumstances, we can still find hope—or in some cases, like mine, hope finds us.
All this time, I thought I knew what I needed. I thought I needed a diagnosis and a quick fix for my chronic pain so that I could get on with my life. There are quick fixes for some things, but my body has never been and will never be one of those things. And that’s okay. I don’t need my body to be fixed. What I needed was the hope that there are other possibilities. Having that hope ultimately reassures me that I am not irreparably broken, even if I feel like I am sometimes.
I don’t know what the future holds. I don’t know if I will still have chronic pain years from now. I do know that I will always try to hope for the best, and that I will never, ever give up on myself. There will always be an outcome left to hope for, no matter how long it takes.