When I started on my journey with the Northern Gods (what I refer to myself as “From Sea to Skye” from the Outlander theme song) I was given two things in meditation: a bindrune from Odin and rose quartz from Thor. The bindrune I have made into a gold coin made of clay that sits on my family shrine and through the very pointed urging of Odin saying, “Remember Thor’s gift? You need to get it physically to hold. Like, NOW, woman!” I bought a small heart of rose quartz.
Three weeks ago I started getting very sharp pains on the left side of my abdomen but chalked it up to menses stuff. Two weeks later I was in the ER in a stupid amount of pain on my right side with a slightly raised temperature.
Now, there are two things that need to be said:
1) I compartmentalized my life and emotions with extreme prejudice. It’s something to do with being an INTJ personality or maybe it’s my natal chart. Either way, it’s how I naturally function in life: there’s not a single person in my life that ever gets the full story of what’s going on in my life. I’m not going to lie: it’s pretty lonely at times and I am often baffled by how seemingly easy people share so much of themselves on social media and in person.
2) For example: some family members know that I’ve lived with chronic pain since the age of twelve and have suffered from migraines since the age of eight, however, most friends (both in real life and Internet) have no clue. I think it’s because I’ve lived with it for so long that it’s become a part of me and is now a non-issue. One physical therapist told me that my concept of what is “pain” is so skewed that by the time I register something as being painful, normal people would have fled to the ER long before then.
So, when I told my husband that my abdomen hurts a lot, he didn’t hesitate in taking me to the ER. Turns out it was a ruptured ovarian cyst and probably good-sized one. A couple of days later I again experienced mind numbing stabbing pain on my left side that leads me to believe it was a second ruptured cyst.
When I was sitting in my ER room, requesting more pain meds 4 times in as many hours and not getting any, I thought about my friends who talk about having to go to the ER because of their chronic pain and the nurses and doctors mistaking them for abusing narcotics and/or being told that they are over exaggerating their pain level for attention and I grimly shook my head. What utter bullshit people are forced to go through just to get relief. What is ironic in my case is, I’m allergic to all of the “good stuff”: Morphine, Percocet, Vicodin, and Dilaudid (so far that I know of). The only pain med I can take is glorified ibuprofen.
In fact, when I went back to the Urgent Care a few days after the ER (when I think I had the second rupture), the doctor on call kept telling me that after a rupture it should feel better and I shouldn’t have any pain. I looked her straight in the eye and said, “I’m still having a ridiculous amount of pain. In fact, I’m allergic to Percocet but the pain was still so bad last night I took half a pill with two Benadryl and called it a night.”
For some reason, that got her to listen to me.
And through all of this was the ever constant “Get your rose quartz.” and “Hold your rose quartz.” I even had dreams of it, ya’ll. Odin and Thor aren’t messing around, and of course, there’s a whisper about how great it would be to have Odin’s bindrune put on Thor’s rose quartz. But I don’t know how to do that.
Recovery has been slow. Today is three weeks to the day that the pain began and it’s the first day that I didn’t wake up with pain. I’m taking it easy and reminding myself not to over do it. In the meantime, I have a rose quartz heart to comfort me and Gods who truly care.