My Year on Death Row
Dawn Rae Downton
National Post
August 23rd, 2018
Read the full story here.
Dawn Rae Downton
National Post
August 23rd, 2018
It started in my feet, which ached constantly whether I wore flats, heels, trainers, or went barefoot. Physiotherapy and orthotics? Useless. Soon the ache climbed my legs, wrecking my knees and seizing up my hips, then my lower back. Eventually I was diagnosed with sacroiliitis, an uncommon inflammatory arthritis that can follow trauma or infection, or, rarely, childbirth. Mine, cause unknown, made one orthopedist say my spine in an x-ray looked like a 90-year-old's. I was 39.
Over the next few years, I made at least quarterly visits to a Halifax pain clinic. I tried acupuncture, meditation, mindfulness, massage and yoga. I tried physical, occupational and cognitive behaviour therapy. I tried injections to block nerves and trigger points, IV lidocaine infusions, anti-inflammatories, anticonvulsants and antidepressants with names straight out of Tolkien -- Elavil, Aventyl. I tried cannabis and even (God help me) group therapy.
My pain screamed back. I couldn't sit, lie down, stand or walk.
"One must have a mind of winter," said Wallace Stevens, as if he'd gone through this, and so I did. I was hopeless, bleak -- until, with opiates the very last resort under pain management protocol, I was trialed on transdermal fentanyl. It worked almost overnight. I was back!
And then, 12 years later, just like that, I wasn't.
Read the full story here.