The Gift of Pain - Chapter 6

For chapters 1-5 of My Story - The Gift of Pain, click on the links to the right.

Following Steve’s heart attack, it became apparent that one of us needed a job that provided health insurance, since this had become a major expense for us, maintaining independent health coverage.

Steve was growing stronger every day and his film and live event production business was flourishing. I looked for a job that would be flexible with the kid’s school schedules and provide me with the needed benefits.

Our oldest daughter had previously worked for a major coffee chain. She mentioned that they had full benefits for part-time employees so I went to her old store and applied for a job.

By this time, Ashley was attending Vanguard University in Costa Mesa and we had our two youngest still at home, in elementary school. Ashley had just returned from Costa Rica where she lived for a few years, working with missionary friends of ours and studying Spanish. What a privilege to see your child dedicated to service for God and others.

Anyway, enough mom bragging - back to the story. I got the job and I loved it! The benefits were amazing and they gave me exactly the shift I needed in order to be with the kids when they were home from school.

I admit, at first it was a real challenge, learning the customer’s names and their drink of choice, memorizing the various combinations, codes and products and standing through a full shift (I’m not as young as I used to be), but I came to love the interaction with our customers and looked forward to their bright smiles and the camaraderie of the other employees. There was never a dull moment, dealing with those cursed Frappuccinos, double tall half-caf no fat lattes and the occasional cranky customer.

After I had worked there for several months I asked the manager if I could train to be a barista, making drinks for the customers, instead of standing behind the register. I was trained to work the espresso machines and make drinks and rose to the challenge of creating the ‘perfect foam’. The time flew by and I was soon able to handle our busiest shifts on my own.

Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays arrived. The lines became longer and the pace more frenetic. I noticed a nagging pain in my right hand. I didn’t realize how physical this job would be, constantly carrying and lifting. I mentioned the pain to my fellow employees and they said I would eventually adjust to the physical aspects of the job.

We flew to Canada to be with Steve’s family for Christmas and I was certain that the much-needed rest would do the trick.

We had an amazing time with family, spending our Christmas at the Circle Square Ranch in Arden where the kids played endless games of 'Manhunt' through the empty dorm rooms, romped in the snow, rode horses and enjoyed being with their cousins. It was a wonderful break!

We came back in the New Year and I returned to work rested and refreshed. However, it was only a matter of hours before the pain returned and developed in my left hand as well.

I finally told my boss that I needed a referral to Worker’s Comp to deal with the pain. The assistant manager placed the referral and I went to see a doctor.

I cannot begin to describe the web of confusion and mismanagement that is called Worker’s Comp. I won’t go into all the boring details, but for over two years I went from doctor to specialist to therapist and back around again as they basically attempted to disprove my pain.

At first, my manager was very sympathetic, trying to give me lighter shifts and accommodating me when they could. It became impossible, however, as this job requires lifting on the part of every employee. When there is a line of customers out the door, there are three people working and something heavy needs to be moved or lifted, you just do it.

I encountered countless other people who were truly suffering and in pain, as I was, struggling to deal with the Worker’s Comp mess. They delayed treatment time and again, as my health continued to decline.

I got to the point where I had pain, tingling and numbness in both of my hands, along with pain in my elbows, my neck and my feet. It was constant. I couldn’t continue to work since my condition was deteriorating so rapidly. I finally had to secure the services of a lawyer, since they refused to address my pain and treat me appropriately.

I was diagnosed, misdiagnosed and re-diagnosed with a myriad of conditions, none that seemed to fit exactly what was going on in my body. Eventually, it was determined that I had carpal tunnel syndrome in both hands, a compressed disc in my neck and ulnar neuropathy, originating in my elbows. Lovely.

After endless wrangling with my employer and Worker’s Comp, I was finally scheduled for surgery, over three years after the pain began. As things had worsened on my left side, my right hand and elbow had improved, so I was scheduled for an ulnar nerve release on my elbow and open carpal tunnel release surgery on my left hand. There were no guarantees that it would work, but the odds were in my favor and all other treatments had failed. I was relieved to finally be facing the end of this journey and knew it couldn’t possibly be any worse.

In May 2009 I went to a hospital in Long Beach where they performed the required surgeries. I was there on an outpatient basis and when I came to, Steve was standing over me smiling. We could finally begin the healing process. I didn’t know, that day, that I would experience the worst pain of my life before the healing could begin.