Think of the most painful thing you've felt and multiply that by 50. That was what my pain was for a year. I had never felt anything like it in my life.
In the beginning of May 2015 is when it all started, my pain began as an uncomfortable feeling in my lower left forearm. By April 2016 it had spread to both of my entire arms and the pain was excruciating. Between May and December I visited multiple doctors: neurologists, orthopedics, rheumatologists, chiropractors, alike. None of the doctors that I went to could figure out what was wrong. I went through so many tests including, but not limited to multiple blood tests, x-rays and MRI's, but I had a clean bill of health. It was a mystery. At this point, I would come home from school and either go to my room or the basement to sleep as I was unable to do anything else and it was the only place where I was allowed to be pain free. Along with no longer hanging out with friends, I gave up the other things I loved to do because I was unable to do those activities. One of the worst feelings of that period was watching someone do what I loved and realizing I could possibly never be able to again. During that time, I didn't have any other outlet and so I turned to writing.
Why can no one see
The pain I drag around
It's not a story I made up
To get attention
People say they understand
But they are just trying to make me
Feel better
However
Their lies won't work
Because I know the truth
No one cares about each other
They just try to make others happy
So they can feel better about themselves
Everyone around me shrugs my pain away
Unconsciously
Knowing that it's not their problem
They act like they care
But they don't know the pain I feel
Physical and emotional
Feeling powerless and useless
Let alone not able to do what makes you happy
Why do I act happy around people
Cause I know they don't care about my pain
Why is it when things seem to be getting better
When you are in the light
Someone pulls you back to the darkness
Month after month
So many doctors
But I still utter the words
"I'm Fine"
To everyone around me
No one seeing the battle fighting against the tears
Eventually my doctors started asking if I was okay mentally and other questions along those lines as as they too were at a loss. They figured since they couldn't diagnose me that I was the one at fault, that I was solely causing it. And after all of the doctors repeated such questions I began to wonder, "what's wrong with me", "why can't I make the pain go away", and my personal favorite - where I would look down at my arms and say - "if I could stop the pain, I would have". Over time the pain got worse and there was nothing I could do about it as each question had been left unanswered. Then one day during Spanish class I looked down at my phone and everything changed. I received a text from my mom that said "I think I found something. Look up Amplified Musculoskeletal Pain Syndrome, aka AMPS." I almost cried from being so overjoyed as my doctors practically gave up on me. And unironically, the person that never gave up on me - my mother - correctly diagnosed me.
It was like someone took what I had been saying and wrote about it
But there was a difference
That person knew what was wrong
They knew what caused the pain
What haunted me for ten months
I just hope it isn't some dream for me
to snap back to reality at any moment
However it wasn't over yet, I had a long road ahead of me still. There wasn't a pill or some type of drug that would fix AMPS. The treatment was either an in-patient or out-patient program where the doctors put you through multiple therapies, including physical and occupational therapy. Nevertheless, there are only five hospitals in the United States that had this program. Luckily one of them was only an hour and a half away. When I met with the four doctors that would be evaluating me, they gave me a physical and asked about my home life and any stresses that were in it at the time. The main cause of AMPS is stress as well as keeping everything in and not letting it out. At the end they asked the question, "Are you ready for the treatment?" because it was not going to be an easy process, the first week and a half would be excruciatingly painful. I was ready to wake up and not feel pain immediately so I said yes. However, my insurance wouldn't pay for the special in-patient treatment that I needed so I had to do the less intense out-patient program. Fortunately, my AMPS is not as bad as it is some people, so after eight weeks of out-patient therapies I was finally pain-free. I was able to do the things I love again and I am back to the person I was before this, but stronger.
Yes there are still moments when the AMPS reoccur, but this is not irregular as they are mostly brought on by stress which is a near constant in every teenager's life. However, now that I am aware of my strengths and weaknesses, I can work on making my surroundings a healthier place for me to live. I know my coping mechanisms, I know the tell-tale signs of the AMPS rearing its ugly head. The only difference, this time, is I'm ready for it.
