After my husband and I split up, I went back to college to finish my BA in English. I had a toddler and it was rough, but I had put aside my education years prior and was really determined to finish. When I was 30, a year away from graduating, I started to get painful sensations in my feet. The pain came and went, and I put up with it, thinking it was from not wearing good shoes while walking around campus so much. The pain was especially bad at night and it kept me awake. I would put several pairs of socks on, massage them, etc. but got no relief. I can't remember how long I put up with this before I finally went to a podiatrist. The first thing the doctor asked me was, "do you have Diabetes?" I said no, and that I had regular check-ups every year and had been checked for Diabetes multiple times. I don't think he even looked at my feet, but instead just did a test for Diabetes. The next day the office called me and told me I had Diabetes. Yes, I was told I had Diabetes over the phone! I was told to control it with diet and when my sugar was under control, my feet would get better, and I did not need to go on medication. I was confused because I had my sugar checked that year and I was fine. When I was pregnant, I was told by one doctor I had Gestational Diabetes (Diabetes that goes away after pregnancy) but another doctor told me I didn't have it, so I always made sure to keep a check on it after Lindsay was born. I went to an Internist and found out the link between Diabetes and foot pain. The condition is called Neuropathy and occurs when too much sugar is in the blood stream and damages the peripheral nerves. Years later I would discover that Diabetes was not the cause of my Neuropathy.
So, the game plan was to control my Diabetes. I did this, but my pain kept getting worse. It felt like a hoard of Lilliputians were stabbing my feet with tiny daggers, twisting and turning, relentlessly pursuing the worst possible pain imaginable. I was so miserable. At night, when the pain was at its worst, I would go into my Mom's room, lay next to her in the fetal position, and cry. I would pound my feet on the bed, trying to make the pain stop. Nothing worked. I was referred to a Neurologist, who did a Nerve Conduction Test. All this basically did was confirm that I had Neuropathy, and it was a nightmare. The procedure involves inserting needles into my nerves and sending pulse waves through them to see how my nerves reacted. This was VERY painful. My diagnosis was confirmed and I also learned I had Carpal Tunnel Syndrome, another type of Neuropathy unrelated to the Peripheral Neuropathy. I was put on a drug called Neurontin, which did nothing. I was put on Lyrica. Nothing. They also tried several anti-depressants which are supposed to help, but did not.
Things are a bit fuzzy when I try to remember how long that went on. After I graduated, I began writing for a newspaper and my child was in Elementary School by that time. This was around 2001. The pain had started to move up my legs, and I would sit at my desk at work, not knowing how I would get through the day. One of the reporters at the paper also had Neuropathy, and we would talk about it, but his wasn't as bad as mine even though he was a raging Diabetic on insulin.
I had moved to another state by this time and began seeing a new Neurologist. After she had tried all of the aforementioned non-narcotic remedies without success, she suggested I try Methadone. At that time, all I knew about Methadone was from the Sid Vicious bio I had read, and that it was used to treat heroin addicts. I was a little scared, but I was also desperate to try anything at this point.
To Be Continued....
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