First, today, I am definitely not complaining; I am joyfully thankful.

Four years ago, I was a very busy 55 year old attorney in Helena, Montana. I loved my work since I was primarily helping people across Montana acquire information from their various governments. I had (and still have) a very special Wife. Life was busy and good. My saga with pain, however, was abrupt, long and becomes “wordy” when I describe it. Sorry for being “wordy”.  In the end, some really great people; family members, a family doctor who refused to give up and out of state health care professionals saved my life.

In November of 2005, I started falling without warning; my right leg kept giving out on me. I felt no pain at all. I have always been very insensitive to pain. In fact, throughout my life, I have had to be very careful since I could put my hand on a stove burner and not feel it before I actually smelled my hand burning. The only exception was ongoing migraine headaches. I always, however, have had great empathy for people in pain even though I never walked in their shoes.

In early December 2005 I visited an arthritis doctor who told me I was having muscle spasms in my lower back. She gave me a muscle relaxant to stop the spasms. I took one tablet and my life changed forever. The single muscle relaxant tablet awoke my nervous system. I was in totally debilitating pain and remained so for a year and a half.

I could not sit in a chair. I could not lie in a bed. I could not lie on a couch. I spent 23 hours a day lying on the cement floor in my basement. I could stand for ten minutes at a time. I was taking up to ten doses of hydro-cordon a day (10/500 dosage) and an equal number of 800 mill. doses of ibuprofen.

A neurosurgeon saw me the day after Christmas 2005. The next day I had surgery for a blown disc (L-4 / L-5). I did not know the disc was even damaged until after I had taken the muscle relaxant.

The pain abated somewhat after the surgery; I tried to return to work. Within two weeks, however, I was back on the basement floor. My pain was as debilitating as ever. Then started the “Montana medicine” saga. For five months I had test after treatment after test. The worst was the traveling to area hospitals and doctors. I would have to spend as much as an hour each way in a car. What agony! The Montana medicine saga is typical of rural American medicine; You call the doctor on Monday to make an appointment; the appointment is the following Thursday. You see the doctor on Thursday who orders a test or a treatment. The appointment for the treatment is the following Wednesday. After the test, you make an appointment with the doctor to get the results; that appointment is the Thursday (a week on) after the test or treatment. The cycle requires nearly two weeks to complete with no positive results. I went through eleven such cycles.

During this period, I gobbled pain killers at the rate of eight to ten a day. My practice was closed by others; my professional and personal life had pretty much ended. There was no hope. Often I prayed that I would not wake from sleeping but I always woke up. Turner Classic Movies became my constant companion.

In late May of 2006, my family doctor wisely intervened with all the “Montana specialist care” I was receiving and insisted that I go to an out of state clinic. My exhausted wife quickly agreed (I would have never survived without my long suffering Wife). No airline, except one, would allow me on a plane. The exception stated I could fly only if I came to the airport in an ambulance, was strapped on a board spread across three seats, had an RN accompany me and that I would be removed from  the arriving airport via ambulance. While I had good health insurance that $25,000.00 bill would not be covered. We did not have that amount of “free cash.”

My family doctor put me on large doses of lyrica (which helped some) and I rode 1,400 miles essentially non-stop flat on my back in the cargo bay of a Chevy suburban.

At the clinic I was told that I had severely damaged a nerve bundle in my back. The neurosurgeons explained that I had suffered a trauma akin to being struck in the back full force with a baseball bat. I could recall not such incident. There was no surgical repair.

Over the next three months I had many tests and procedures. Nothing helped. Finally, I was sent to the hospital’s pain clinic. Then, in October of 2006, I was offered (after a full psychiatric workup) a spinal chord stimulator. I told the doctors at the pain clinic that they could cut off my leg if I could only get my brain back. They declined but did proceed with the implant. The test (February of 2007) went very well. The implant dramatically reduced my pain. I was not out of the woods, however. The permanent implant broke loose and traveled up my spine and started to shock my heart three weeks after I had the SCS permanently implanted. Another surgery to repair that problem occurred and that implant lasted two weeks before the same thing happened. The fourth surgery proved to be the charm. After $130,000.00 worth of surgical procedures, the implant finally took hold.

Three months after I had the implant,  I suffered two strokes. Prior to my first back surgery, I could read 350-400 pages an hour. After my two strokes, I could read 3-4 pages an hour. Today, I can read 25-30 pages an hour. While I lost my speech after both strokes, I can now speak clearly although I think much more slowly than I used to. Today I still take pain medications BUT I take only three – four doses a day rather than ten. I no longer take lyrica. Today, I can walk with a cane, sit, drive some and, most importantly, I can write. I can do simple household chores and lift as much as 40 pounds at a time. I can now sleep in a bed. I sleep some twelve to fourteen hours a day and tire easily (a  consequence of the strokes, not the implant process). 

While my life remains radically changed, I have life with meaning and worth. I am thankful for every day when I awaken. I try to do something useful every day even if it’s just preparing a decent evening meal for my Wife and myself.  Over tens months in 2008 and 2009, I actually wrote a 125 page manual which accompanies an exhibit in a small Montana museum. Please understand that I used to write these manuals in a week. While very, very slow, I am once again a productive member of society even if as just a museum volunteer.

Arthritis today is my predominant health concern. I cannot describe the joy of only having to deal with that disease. Persistence paid off and that is my message. While I lived through the hell of over-whelming and all consuming pain the people around me never gave up and while I prayed for death on many occasions, I never was driven to thoughts of suicide.  There are no words to describe the love and support I received (and continue to receive) from Family and friends. My Wife remains a pillar in my life even though our savings were wiped out and we are drowning in medical driven debt (we will, I think, avoid bankruptcy). I live every day to its fullest and are thankful for each sunrise and I am content at each sunset. I see my four year old Grandson once a month and he and my Son and Daughter-in law inspire me with hope of our collective future.

Finally, I offer to share my story with anyone who is considering a SCS implant. As difficult as the journey seems and as insufferably high as the mountains of pain and agony appear, I learned that we can survive, once again contribute and live full joyful lives. Hope is the balm, a SCS is the remedy and joy is again attainable.  Personal persistence, a patient health insurance company and incredible Family and truly determined  medical professionals brought me to a pain tolerable, joyful and productive life.  John in Montana.