Life in general,  Mayhem Series,  Musings about life

One Writer’s Personal Struggle with Pain

This isn’t an easy post to write, because it’s so personal. I’ve received emails from many of you, asking if Murder Blog is gone. It isn’t. I love this blog and have worked too hard to build it into a resource for writers and readers. But the blog’s been stagnant for far too long without any explanation. You deserve better. With that in mind, I figured it was time to share my story. Perhaps it will resonate with some of you.

In the past, I’ve mentioned — albeit briefly — that I live with rheumatoid arthritis. Yet, I rarely, if ever, reveal the extent of my pain. To grasp why, you need to learn a little more about me. I grew up with a strong-willed mother who battled cancer for most of my childhood. She died when I was a teenager. Being the awesome mother that she was, she never showed her children how much pain she suffered with, or ever allowed the disease to prevent her from being the best Mom in the universe. I hope to one day fill her shoes, but they’re awfully big shoes.

Fast forward thirty-plus-years, and that trait transferred to me. The only person who truly knows how I feel inside is my husband, and even then, I hide the vast majority of my pain so I don’t worry him. Somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind, I equate pain with weakness. I know it’s silly — I don’t feel that way about anybody else’s pain — but I hold myself to a higher (sometimes unreachable) standard. I’m a nurturer, not the patient.

So, today, I’m peeling back my layers, exposing not only my fears (that I tend to keep well-protected) but my skeleton, as well. This is the part of me you don’t see, you probably shoudn’t see, and after I write this post, you may never see again. This topic veers too far out of my comfort zone. The only place you’ll find my innermost thoughts and feelings is within my characters; it’s easier to hide behind them.

Here goes nothing …

Last February, on top of rheumatoid arthritis, the doctors discovered psoriatic arthritis. Like RA, there are three main types:

o   Severe psoriasis with minimal pain

o   A good amount of psoriasis with moderate pain

o   Little, almost non-existent, psoriasis with severe pain

The third one in the list is what I have.

 

Rheumatoid arthritis works the same way …

o   Severe deformation of joints with less pain

o   Some deformation of joints with moderate pain (it can also attack organs)

o   Slight, almost non-existent, deformation of joints with severe pain (it can also attack organs)

I’m between two and three on the RA scale. Some of the joints in my fingers are twisting, but writing has been a godsend where RA is concerned. Moving joints are happy joints. Suffice it to say, I carry a lot of physical pain on a daily basis and have for over twenty years. I was diagnosed with RA at age 30. As long as I inject my monthly shot, medication that destroys the immune system, my RA stayed manageable.

Until one brutal day last winter when it rose with a vengeance.

It’s no secret that these NSAID medications need to be changed from time to time. Your system gets used to them after awhile. So, last February, I visited my rheumatologist, who Guinea-pigged me to death. Anyone who’s been poked and prodded knows exactly what I mean. The end result was the added diagnosis of psoriatic arthritis, which attacks the joints that RA misses.

Around that time, my life took a nosedive.

Living with rheumatoid arthritis or psoriatic arthritis isn’t easy. With both, it’s comparable to darting through a field scattered with hidden landmines. No joint or bone is off-limits with this deadly combination — a painful realization I learned about a month later when the arthritis wreaked havoc in my body. At the time, I was in edits for SCATHED and blogging, here and on the Kill Zone. But juggling my personal life with my author life wasn’t going well. I felt like I was failing at both. So, I backed off to give myself time to heal.

It didn’t work. If anything, pulling away from Murder Blog and social media made things worse. I couldn’t find solace; my mind couldn’t rest.

My rheumatologist wasn’t able to find a suitable medication that would halt the progression, and each new shot took three months to build up enough to judge the efficacy. Meanwhile, in the spring, I was moseying down the hill to feed my wildlife when I slipped on wet grass. Other than a swollen ankle, I thought I’d escaped any real trauma. Boy, was I wrong. See what living in denial can do?

Day after day, my feet swelled to almost unrecognizable proportions. The piercing-sharp pain stopped me cold. Murder Blog wilted from not getting enough water (attention). You might remember more guest posts around then. By June/July, physical agony overshadowed my life. I couldn’t juggle work with my personal struggle like I normally did. But the world doesn’t stop because you’re in pain.

As an author, I had a choice to make: lose everything I’d worked so hard to build or slap on a smile and move forward. I’d booked various venues for appearances and book signings. Almost every weekend from June to October I had a book event. Still have a few more next month … December 7th, 8th, and 9th. I couldn’t let my readers down, but I couldn’t do it all, either. Something had to give. I’m so sorry I chose Murder Blog. At the time, it seemed like the lesser of two evils.

I was wrong.

To my surprise, not one of you unsubscribed. Not one! I can’t tell you how deeply that touches me. Thank you doesn’t quite convey my gratitude. You’re the reason my mindset changed. You! I’ll forever be grateful. In fact, I dedicated Silent Mayhem to you. More on that later.

So, everyday, with the swelling it felt like I was walking on pillows … if pillows hid porcupines with their quills stabbing through the material. Numerous guesses got tossed around by doctors — Achilles tendon rupturing, psoriatic arthritis attacking the joints— but no one had any concrete answers. Not knowing shoves you into a realm of uncertainty, where the mind never stops. Do I have some rare deadly disease? Is my skeleton turning to ash? I spent a hundred bucks buying every brace and splint known to man. And then, my rheumatologist finally decided to ultrasound the soles of my feet.

What she discovered blew her mind. Lemme tell ya, nothing quite compares to hearing your doctor say, “Wow” and then “Whoa” and then “Huh?” while gazing at the monitor. She finally asked if I’d ever broken my feet. When I told her no, she asked if I was sure. My answer was, “I think I’d remember that.” 🙂 

The test results showed psoriatic arthritis had drilled holes through my heel bones.

 

See the bone marked “Calcaneus”? Instead of a solid piece, mine look more like lifesavers. This in turn caused bone spurs. Neither heel can ever connect with a hard surface again, including carpet, or the calcaneus bones could shatter. That inconvenience may not sound like a life-altering moment, unless you’re like me and always go barefoot, but where you step isn’t something you’re really cognizant of till you need to be. As an example, a shower has a hard surface. What do you do then?

At that same appointment, my doctor told me the psoriatic arthritis also destroyed the metatarsal joints of the balls of the foot. As an added bonus, it caused plantar fasciitis. This new wrinkle rocked my world. If you’re not familiar with this hellish issue, plantar fasciitis is the inflammation of all the connective tissue that span the bottom of the feet, from heels to toes, including the Achilles tendon. Flare-ups normally last between two to four weeks. I’ve been dealing with the problem for nine straight months and counting.

When she sent me to physical therapy, I discovered why. Remember when I told you about slipping on wet grass? Well, apparently, the fall knocked a few discs out of place. Our brains can only process so much pain. The nerve compression of my back and neck manifested in the farthest chink in the chain—my feet. Because of the severity of plantar fasciitis, and then nerve compression, my brain was overloaded with pain. As my spine slowly realigns (I’m still in PT, but we’re getting there), pain increases in my back and neck and decreases in my feet. Which I prefer, actually. A cruel fact of RA and PsA is you need to pick your poison. 

Isn’t the brain fascinating, though? I researched this topic ad nauseam. Turns out, our bodies have a pain safety switch, and mine is in perfect working order. 🙂 As a petite woman with a small frame, somedays it feels like my skeleton is disintegrating. In the back of my mind lies a real fear that someday I’ll lose my mobility. To look at me, though, you’d never know it. That’s a huge plus.  

As my therapist realigns my joints, the pain becomes more manageable … unless it rains or snows, but let’s not get into that. I still have plantar fasciitis, and we’ll be working on that next, but at least I’m able to see the forest for the trees again. Meaning, rather than let pain consume me, I’ve regained focus. I still have bad days, but I work through them with exercise, diaphragmatic breathing techniques, and by escaping into my fictional world. As — ahem — middle-aged (did I really just write that?), I’d rather do the work than take copious amounts of pain meds. I need my mind to weave intricate tales. 🙂 

Writers are lucky. We have the ability to let our minds escape the confines of our physical self, slip inside our characters’ skin, into their bodies, and leave our own decrepit skeleton in the desk chair. By the same token, readers are lucky, too. When life hands you rough news, escape into someone’s else world for awhile.

The moral of the story is this. We have the power to choose how to live our lives. For me, being a victim to my disease wasn’t an option. I may have veered off-course to lick my wounds, but now, I’m back doing what I love. The best news is, Silent Mayhem is done! As we await the release in early 2019 (the holidays delay the schedule), I’m working on Book 4 of Grafton County Series. With any luck, I’ll complete the first draft by mid-January. And Murder Blog? You’ll find me here every other week; the off weeks I’ll be on the Kill Zone.

I hope you all had an amazing Thanksgiving (for those who celebrate). I’m thankful for your loyalty, your kindness, and your unconditional friendship. How’d I get so lucky? You rock!

 

 

Sue Coletta is an award-winning crime writer and an active member of Mystery Writers of America, Sisters in Crime, and International Thriller Writers. Feedspot and Expertido.org named her Murder Blog as “Best 100 Crime Blogs on the Net.” She also blogs on the Kill Zone (Writer's Digest "101 Best Websites for Writers"), Writers Helping Writers, and StoryEmpire. Sue lives with her husband in the Lakes Region of New Hampshire. Her backlist includes psychological thrillers, the Mayhem Series (books 1-3) and Grafton County Series, and true crime/narrative nonfiction. Now, she exclusively writes eco-thrillers, Mayhem Series (books 4-8 and continuing). Sue's appeared on the Emmy award-winning true crime series, Storm of Suspicion, and three episodes of A Time to Kill on Investigation Discovery. When she's not writing, she loves spending time with her murder of crows, who live free but come when called by name. And nature feeds her soul.

86 Comments

  • Rose Kerr

    Sue, a brave post. Sorry you are dealing with so much pain. You are a strong woman, that comes through in your writing. I hope the pain becomes manageable and that you can keep writing through it all.
    Wish you the best in the future.

  • Brenda Laird

    Pain is so hard to deal with, but you’re such a trooper, Sue, and a wonderful role model for the rest of us. It’s inspiring to see how your writing helped you to endure such adversity. Thanks for continuing to create great fictional worlds that others can escape to and learn endurance from. God bless you and all of us as we struggle with our bodies.

  • Betsy Ashton

    I don’t live with a lot of physical pain. I’ve lived most of my life with psychic pain, until one day I said to a friend, “I was raped in college.” Three words fell onto a table. And with them lying in the light, squirming away from me, I felt free.

    May what you shared with us set you free. I’d hug you if I were here with me. You’re not, so CYH (Consider Yourself Hugged).

    • Sue Coletta

      Thank you, Betsy! Ya know, a weight has definitely been lifted. It’s a strange feeling, though, putting it all out there, exposing myself publicly. I may never do it again, but writing this post was cathartic. The outpouring of love I’ve received continues to blow me away. I feel so blessed to be surrounded by such an amazing community.

      I’m so sorry for what you experienced in college. Big hugs to you, my friend. xo
      Sue Coletta recently posted…One Writer’s Personal Struggle with PainMy Profile

    • Sue Coletta

      I’m with you there, Sherry. I wavered for days, if not weeks, on whether to write this post.

      Thank you! With the re-release of Wings of Mayhem and Blessed Mayhem (which got a new spiffy cover) I’m so excited. I brought the series to my Grafton County Series publisher, so Book 1 and 2 should be out early Dec., and Book 3, Silent Mayhem, after the holidays. Yay!
      Sue Coletta recently posted…One Writer’s Personal Struggle with PainMy Profile

  • Doug & Bev

    Such a wonderful outpouring of friendship. I’d be lucky to get a Jiffylube coupon.
    Thank you for sharing your journey and giving us all a better understanding. Maybe one more door will be held open in our holiday rush because of you. As always, my best, Doug Keil

  • Harmony Kent

    Thanks for such an honest post, Sue. Like you, I write in silence and only mention the odd bit here and there. This last year, I’ve had to back off from a lot of things just to get through a day, and pain is my constant companion. I think that for all of us, it helps to know we’re not alone. Wishing you all the best and sending hugs. Harmony

  • Nicholas Rossis

    Oh my God, Sue! That’s a whole lot of pain–and an amazingly honest post. Thank you for sharing with us.

    I’m not sure what one can say in a situation like this, especially to a strong woman like you. I know I can’t make the pain go away. And saying you’re in my thoughts and prayers seems so… insufficient. And yet these platitudes are all I can manage. All I can say in my defense is that they’re heartfelt!

    Hugs,

    N.
    Nicholas Rossis recently posted…11 Tips For Writing FantasyMy Profile

  • Diane

    Sue,
    I hate to hear this is happening to you. I also have several severe pain issues, (psoriasis, disc disease, left-over polio effects, etc) and I also had a bout of PF and did the same stretching you described. I have not had a reoccurrence. Thank goodness. I cannot take NSAIDS or aspirin. I have started my yoga again and also take CBD. I do not want to take addictive drugs and so had to find another way. I still have some pain, always will, but am able to deal with it better now. I just hate being “sick” and so refuse to be. Sounds like you have a great attitude and hope you continue to improve as much as possible. Will think of you often and send prayers for your relief.

  • Frances

    Sue, I hope the upcoming New Year will bring you less pain. I always enjoy reading your Murder Blog and follow your comments on The Kill zone. I’ve discovered the best thing for my arthritic fingers is writing on the computer. Back pain has been my nemesis for many years. I admire your perseverance through this past year. Best wishes.
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  • Kimberley

    Sue, so sorry to hear about your illnesses and the pain you suffer just to try to function every day. Your health is the priority and because of the pleasure you get from writing, long may you be able to write books and share posts in a way best suited to you.
    Wishing you all the best as we enter a new year

      • Valerie

        Sue, sorry to hear all about your rheumatic and arthritic maladies. I’ll make this quick, and you may totally ignore what I say, but I can only go on my own experience. I have osteoarthritis in two knees and a hip. I’ve had three surgeries, replacements over four years. Lots of PAIN. Awful pain. Looking forward to another replacement of the right knee, more pain.
        BUT a couple of months ago I changed my diet. Low carb, high fat, medium protein/meat. By cutting out the carbs – which are inflammatory and pain is caused for the most part by inflammation – my pain all disappeared. I asked my surgeon when I should have my next replacement. He said to me, “Are you in pain?” I said, “No, not since I changed my diet.” Told him about it. He said, “That’s the way I eat too. When you get rid of all those inflammatory carbs you get rid of the pain. We may not need to replace your knee.” Yay! I’m only sharing my experience. Google the Ketogenic diet for yourself. There’s lots of medical doctors and other health practitioners who are promoting this as a healthy way to rid yourself of pain, and even cure serious illness, like reversing Type 2 Diabetes. I wish you well. But check this out and if you hate the idea, then chuck it. But I hope it helps you.

  • Naomi Bellina

    Thank you for sharing your personal life, Sue. I try to be thankful every day for my health, and to remember that everyone, even if they look fine, is battling something. I enjoy your posts and I’m glad you’re back, but ALWAYS take care of your health first.

  • Diana J Febry

    Keep fighting!
    I missed your blog but your health & happiness is far more important. Blog when you can & when it helps.

  • patriciaruthsusan

    Sue: I’m so sorry you’ve suffered such pain but so glad the doctor and therapist have found ways of helping you. You’ve shown us all what real courage is. I have pain with sciatica, a knee that needs replacing, and arthritis that has developed but it’s nothing compared with what you’ve gone through. I was taking a pain pill the doctor informed me was not kidney-friendly so I now use arthritis creme. I know what you mean about moving joints. I use a walker and I’m stiff in the morning until I move around a bit. That helps a lot. I wish for all the best for you in the future. This was a great post. You’re so thorough. Bless you, for thinking of us through your pain. <3 — Suzanne

  • Michael Helms

    Hello Sue,

    Well, I won’t begin to write this message with “I feel you pain.” I do not and will not claim to. When I was in the 10th grade I played catcher on my high school baseball team, as well as “safety” on our football team. One day at baseball practice a runner was trying to score; I grabbed the late throw from the outfielder and slapped my right (free) hand across the catcher’s mitt and swung toward the plate. I beat the runner, but unfortunately, the ball dropped out of my mitt for a “safe” call. Bewildered, I picked up the ball to toss back to our pitcher; what a surprise when the ball fell out of my hand on the backside. I said “huh?” and retrieved the ball. I tried to throw it back to our pitcher again and the ball merely rolled out of my hand and landed behind me. That’s when I looked at my hand and noticed my forefinger was lying flat against the back side of my hand. “Hey Coach,” I said. I think I broke my finger. Well it turns out my finger between the first knuckle (closest to the hand) and my second (middle) knuckle had been shattered into twenty or more tiny fragments of bone.

    Fast forward maybe twenty years. My same hand’s (right) middle joint began to swell and hurt. By this time I was already being treated for gout in both feet/joints. About the same time my contract for my first book arrived from a well-known NYC publisher. I should’ve been ecstatic–however, due to the pain I was simply numb, hoping I’d get over this initial attack of gout before the proofs arrived. They did, and I did.

    Long story short: I’ve survived some 30 years of painful joy as a writer, while writing/selling around ten books. I often wonder if I might’ve been more productive had I not been stricken with gout/arthritis (which, by the way, continues to attack at will). So Sue, I wish you all the best, and the fortitude to somehow meet and defeat the physical enemy which seeks to take you down. You may be sure you are in my thoughts and prayers, and know that you are not alone in your struggles.

    Wishing you all the best,

  • Mae Clair

    Sue, I’m so sorry to hear what you’re going through.My cousin has severe RA and I know how debilitating it can be.I have my fingers crossed that all that therapy you’ve been undergoing makes the difference. Sending you well wishes and hugs!

  • Traci Kenworth

    My cousin had RA. Hugs! I understand how medical conditions can be stressful and rough in your life. I wish I didn’t have to take so many meds but with bipolar I don’t have a choice. It dampens my ability to feel emotions most times which makes it difficult to get that down on the page with my characters. But if I don’t take it, the consequences are too much. I reblogged this on my romance website, Loleta Abi. I’m trying to split the YA and the other off.
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  • ARTHUR KERNS

    Sue, your story set me back in my chair. What courage and strength you have had through the entire ordeal. Yes, writing can and does provide a release from ones travails, by letting us visit our characters and story. Thanks for sharing your story. You’re a champ.

  • Debbie McClure

    Ue, you’ve touched on a subject many of us (oddly, many writers) face — pain or illness that can’t be seen. Codes to you my friend, for pulling back the curtain and allowing us in. That’s a brave, difficult thing to do. What you’ve shared is heartbreaking and real. It’s human. For all of our differences, being human, existing within our human bodies, is the one constant we all share. This human condition can try us in ways we wouldn’t wish on anyone (well, on a select few perhaps).

    Thank you for your honesty, humanity, and for sharing your gift of storytelling through your books. You seriously ROCK, my friend. I hope your days are filled with less pain, and as much love and joy as you can handle. Hugs

    • Sue Coletta

      Thank you, Debbie. Hidden pain or illness does seem to be a trend with writers. Perhaps that’s what allows us to venture into far away lands, where we control what happens next (unless our characters run amok, but even then it’s fun to watch). Maybe, just maybe, it gives us an advantage in life. I, for one, would be lost without the ability to create. I’m sure most writers feel the same. Hugs to you, my friend. xoxo
      Sue Coletta recently posted…One Writer’s Personal Struggle with PainMy Profile

  • Gippy Adams Henry

    Sue, I too was wondering where you were lately. I am so very sorry you are suffering with those dread illnesses. You surely have not been forgotten though! I will keep you in my daily prayers for healing. My heart goes out to you. God bless!

  • Harry Husted

    I’m disabled and suffer pain every day. I just live with it and try not to let it get to me. I applaud you and how you dealt with yours. you are a blessing. I admire you greatly. You’ve helped me with ideas for my screenplays. Take care. Love to you.
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  • Book Club Mom

    Oh my gosh, Sue. I was so sorry to read this and discover how many struggles you have had. You are very strong and have a fantastic attitude. I hope that your condition and pain lessen and that you become more able to enjoy the regular pleasures of life. Thinking of you.

  • Chris Bridges

    I’m so sorry that you have to go through all of this pain. I have received so much from your blog, and will hang in there with you for as long as you need. You have not only taught me things, but lead me to others I can learn from. Love the blog…concentrate on you. Hugs and love hope things get better.

  • Roland R Clarke

    You are inspiring, brave and determined, Sue. I had no idea that you lived with such chronic pain and still created so much valuable material for us. It puts my chronic disease in perspective. I may have multiple sclerosis and be wheelchair bound, but my pain is somewhat intermittent and more like dull throbbing than stabbing. Blessings to you for a strength and motivation.

  • Belinda Wilson

    Sue, your article sure struck a note with me. I too, was diagnosed with RA when I was 30 and have been living with it for 25 years. I am also a back patient, with 3 surgeries behind me and 4 of my discs have disintegrated. I have other issues as well, but have a accepted that pain is simply a part of life. I do a lot of reading and writing and that helps a lot.

    • Sue Coletta

      Oh, Belinda, I’m so sorry to hear that. It’s frightening to know our bones/joints are slowly disintegrating, isn’t it? I also need a knee replacement, but it’s easier to deal with one thing at a time.

      During my quest for answers, I found a photo of someone’s skeleton who had RA and one of a healthy skeleton, where the deceased lived a relatively pain-free life. When laid side-by-side, the differences between the two images blew my mind. Part of me wishes I hadn’t found them. Big hugs to you, my friend. xo
      Sue Coletta recently posted…One Writer’s Personal Struggle with PainMy Profile

  • Barbara

    Sue,
    Sorry for your pain. Hope they find the right combo of things to lessen your pain.
    As for the plantar fasciitis, try do toe stretches before you get out of bed in the morning. Also, freeze water bottles & roll your feet over them. I still do the toe stretches even though I haven’t had PF for years now, out of fear of getting it again. I was born flat footed & then waitressed for more than 20 yrs. Not very bright, huh. I needed to use 2 canes to get out of bed & these exercises, recommended by my foot Dr., really helped. Hope they help you.

    • Sue Coletta

      I recognized the exercises immediately, Barbara. Before I get out of bed in the morning, I draw an invisible alphabet with my feet. Frozen water bottles feel awesome! Some days, I roll on two while I work at my desk. Yeah, PF is no joke. Unless you’ve experienced it, like you and I, it’s difficult to comprehend the relentless, unforgiving agony it brings. I pray it never finds you again. {{{hugs}}}
      Sue Coletta recently posted…One Writer’s Personal Struggle with PainMy Profile

  • Larry Keeton

    Sue,
    Thank you for sharing and persevering. To say it mildly, pain sucks. And watching someone you love suffer and you can’t do anything to fix it is just as bad. I know. I’m sure your husband does as well.
    Your perseverance to continue reminds us that the human spirit can and will endure. It reminds us that when we might feel low, others are suffering more, but continue to take up the challenge of living, of making a difference. And, your writing has done that, at least for me, a fledgling writer. I’m sure others like me believe the same.
    So, know that there are many out there – still waiting to hear from you when the time is write (intentional use of the word), be it in a novel, Murder Blog, or Killzone, or just on Facebook.
    In the meantime, you and your family will be in my prayers for relief.
    Larry

  • CS Boyack

    I had no idea. This must have been hard to write, but like everything you produce, it was masterful. Hoping you can find some way to maintain everything, if not an outright solution. When you need the occasional break, we’ll still be here when you’re ready.
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      • CS Boyack

        I picked up on you not posting a month ago. Figured you were deep in some writing project. When I didn’t see you at my place, I got concerned, but brushed it off as me being me. If you’re serious, there is a category in my sidebar that will filter down for the Halloween stuff. Bonus points: My discussion about my enlarged prostate is still one my most popular posts of all time. Maybe this will bring you new readers.
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  • Priscilla Bettis

    Oh goodness, what you’ve been through and what you’re going through sucks. But I also applaud your attitude. I’m cheering you one and will continue to do so, go Sue!

    You are so right about how a reader can turn to a book when he or she needs a break from life. I particularly like reading horror when I’m going through a rough patch. There’s nothing like a character being eaten alive by a zombie to remind me that my life ain’t so bad.

    Good luck with your upcoming Silent Mayhem release and the first draft of G.C. book 4!
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    • Sue Coletta

      Hahahahaha. Let the zombies reign! Quick story. I had to tell my publisher what was going on. After a long talk, I told her I had to inflict my pain on Sage (Grafton County), that I’d been way too easy on her up till this point, and she needs to feel her RA pain. If nothing else, it’ll sure make me feel better. 😉
      Sue Coletta recently posted…One Writer’s Personal Struggle with PainMy Profile

  • Terri Swann

    Sue, thanks for sharing. I don’t suffer physically, but I struggle with a different type of unbearable pain every day. I’m glad you’re working your way through, slowly but surely.

  • Margot Kinberg

    Thank you, Sue, for sharing your story. I can’t tell you how much admire you for making your life work, managing your pain and your other obligations, and following your dream. I admire you at least as much for getting the help you need, for knowing when you need to take care of yourself, and for doing what you need to do for you. Keep strong, and please know that you have the support of a lot of people, some of whom have never had the pleasure of meeting you in person (yet).

  • Barbara Plum

    Sue, thank you for your honesty and courage. You offered both educational info & psychological info to those of us fortunate enough to live each day relatively pain-free. Thanks for the reminder to be gratefu. May 2019 be a turnaround year.

  • Anne Hagan

    I’m glad your back, and I hope you’re able to minimize and deal with your pain as much as is humanly possible.

  • Brian Hoffman

    In spite of all that, you are still here. I am grateful for that. Your insights into writing and you books are important to me. Hang in there sister, we need you.

  • Garry Rodgers

    Wow, Sue. I did not know your pain was this severe. I’m so sorry you’re going through this and I so, so hope your condition improves. This is an extremely well-written and heartfelt post, my dear friend. It makes me appreciate my having good health and, fortunately, a sick mind. Nice that you’re back murdering the blog and escaping into the fictional world of fantastic characters. ***Huggs back***

  • Debbi

    Hi Sue,

    You’re hitting me where I live with this post.

    I’ve been living with constantly twisting joints since 2005. I have dystonia caused by a stroke and it is a flat-out bitch to write when your left hand is in constant twisting motion. My left foot, too, but that’s less about pain than balance.

    I’ve thought about writing or talking more openly about it, but have held back quite a bit lately. I used to blog about it a LOT, in a humorous way, because making jokes was (and still is) my way of dealing with torment. 🙂

    Anyway, I’m thinking of talking more about it on YouTube. I think many of us suffer silently with chronic illness of one sort or another. Our biggest fear, I suspect, is being defined by those limitations. At least, I know that’s one of mine.

    Anyway, thank you for writing this! If I were with you now, I’d give you a big hug! 🙂

    • Sue Coletta

      I’d hug you right back, Debbi! Writing has done wonders for my hands. I’m so sorry you don’t have the same luck. And yet, you prevail! I love that.

      Pain is a topic that none of us talk about. I wavered for two weeks on whether to even write this post, and then teared up most of the way through it. But chronic illness is part of life. Writers especially, I think, deal with various medical issues from staying hunched over a keyboard all day. Toss in an ailment or two, and we learn real fast how to write from the soul. 😉 And yes, I agree. Being defined by our illness would be fate worse than death.
      Sue Coletta recently posted…One Writer’s Personal Struggle with PainMy Profile