Where to Begin

I woke up Monday morning with neck pain. Not the typical “I slept wrong” neck pain, but muscle dystrophy/spinal tumor neck pain. I’m talking even thinking about moving my head towards my chest would send crippling pain shooting through my upper back into my ears.

Somehow, between the shower and the car ride to work, I attributed this sensation to loss of muscle control, which in turn became loss of bowl control. I proceeded to panic the whole twenty minutes to work about crapping myself in the car. Not panic as in I was worried. But, panic as in the core of my body was tingling and my inner voice was consumed with the urgency to be near a bathroom.

I arrived to the office without incident, but the drama continued. The bathroom became a non-issue, but before I could step out of the elevator, the ungodly neck pain was back.

Between 10:00-11:00 a.m., I became convinced that my future would be spent in a Stephen Hawking like existence, i.e. chin permanently glued to the chest. (I mean no disrespect, I fancy Hawking one of the great geniuses of our time).

This panic attack was monstrous. Usually, I can ride them out, this one was different. They typically last twenty minutes, this one lasted all day. A sure sign that it wasn’t a panic attack at all, but a side effect of muscle dystrophy/spinal tumor.

My neck doesn’t hurt anymore.

It was very disheartening for me to relapse this hard. I thought I was beyond the stage where impending doom could consume me for an entire day. What a blow to the ego. One step forward, two steps back.

(I think I know where all this panic is stemming from, but seeing as I've had six Sierra Nevadas, that post will have to wait until tomorrow).