Part of new life

In 2002, I had a bicycle crash, shattering my hip into a few segments and breaking my pelvis so badly that it was split in two parts a half-inch apart. A local orthopedic surgeon threw up his hands and said he could do nothing for me. The hip was a mess, but the pelvis break was just too terrible to be mended. I was wheelchair-bound. Then he recalled there was a world-class orthopedic surgeon two hours away, called him and I was sent by ambulance there where he mended me in an eight-hour surgery, using metal to keep the pelvis together. When I thanked him, he said he'd been very fortunate to put me together again. There was doubt I'd walk again, but I did. And I managed to ride my bike again. I'm actually in good shape except for non-stop pain which I was warned about. Sometimes, it's a throbbing ache, other times it's like my hip and pelvis are being squeezed in a vice. Once or twice every couple of weeks for a couple of days, everything from mid-thigh to lower abdomen feels like it's being re-arranged; it makes even breathing a painful chore. I was on very heavy painkillers for a few months post-surgery then got off them. Today, I use Tylenol when things get rough, but that doesn't really do anything; maybe it serves as a placebo for my brain. Mostly, I try breathing exercises and just holding on till the pain goes back to a nasty, dull throb. And sleeping doesn't take away the pain, in case anyone is wondering. If I sleep three hours on the damaged side of my body, it feels like my bones are re-knitting. So, it's toss and turn, toss and turn. I go to bed in pain, I sleep in pain, I wake up in...you get it. My wife says I used to have a lot more patience before my accident. Not surprising. I feel I use a lot of my physical and mental resources keeping the pain at a distance. I've thought about trying heavy duty pain meds again, but still reject them for their addictive aspects. And so on it goes. When someone sees me flinch or gasp when hit by an attack of the vice-like or nerve-damage pain, I no longer try to explain what's going on, what it feels like, what I need to do to get back to "normal." I don't have the energy. Having said all this, I'm incredibly grateful to my surgeon who fixed me. He gave me back my life in almost every way. The pain, sometimes not bad, sometimes brutal, will always be there. That's life. But I have the funny feeling it will wear me down mentally in the long run. Time will tell.