As many of you know, we’ve been struggling with mad sickness for two years. Husband has had heart attack symptoms, autoimmune symptoms, cancer symptoms – just about every terrifying thing that can happen to a man has seemed to happen to him. But every time we ended up in the ER or the hospital, doctors were baffled; all the symptoms were there for numerous diseases, but when tested, he came up negative for everything.
I’ve been watching him slowly die for two years, and no one could do anything.
The folks at the Mayo Clinic finally figured it out: it seems the culprit is actually chronic pain.
My husband Duane was run over by an SUV in 2001. He’s been in constant pain since that November day, without a single break, and it turns out that when the human body goes through chronic pain, it starts to flip out. It’s essentially short-circuiting.
Fast forward. We’ve had exploratory surgery. We’ve lived through a 98% chance of amputation. We’ve had a legitimate miracle. And now, they’re going to try to replace his knee (and all the torn, damaged, and otherwise destroyed tendons) in an attempt to address all these problems.
Tomorrow is the last pre-op surgery appointment. On the 3rd, he goes in.
I won’t pretend I’m okay. We don’t know if it will work. We don’t know the health of the bones, so we can’t guarantee they’ll even be able to do the replacement. Most importantly, we don’t know if this will for sure fix the health problems that have plagued him for two years.
Fingers crossed, knees bent, hopes raised, and prayers raised: it’s the final countdown, and my heart is firmly lodged in my throat.