Welcome to My Blog

Hey guys! I don't know who is going to read this, so I'll just start by saying a few basics.

1. I don't put up with disrespect. You do it, you're no longer welcome on this page. Got it? Good.

2. This page is meant for people who have RSD/CRPS or chronic pain, but it doesn't mean that ONLY those people can follow me. Anyone can follow me! :)

3. I am a writer. It's what I love to do. If you are a writer, feel free to contact me or follow me on Word Press at readingallaboutit.wordpress.com

4. I believe in staying positive and optimistic.

5. I believe in God.


My name is Samantha Davis. I am 22 years old and I have RSD/CRPS. This is my story.

As a kid, I was very active. I loved running. My friends and I would often go biking in our neighborhood or run after the ice cream truck barefoot during the summer. Whenever I got upset, I would go out running to clear my head. I loved being active, but I definitely took it for granted. You never know what you’ve got until it’s gone; that was definitely something that proved true for me after getting this disease. Anyway, as a teenager, I got foot cramps a lot. To combat these, I ate bananas and took NSAID's and used warm medication creams. It was normal, or so I thought, that my feet were hurting so often, especially since I ran a lot. Boy, was I wrong.


The first time I noticed something going terribly wrong was in my senior year of high school. I was hanging out at a friend’s house with my boyfriend and a terrible pain in my right foot suddenly appeared. It was like a cramp, then a charlie horse, then a stabbing and burn pain all at once. It also felt like my muscle or something inside my foot was being twisted around itself over and over again. I screamed and fell down onto the floor. It was honestly the worst pain I have ever experienced in my entire life. My boyfriend was totally taken aback and wasn't sure what to do, so he got me some medication and held me until it went away. After the pain subsided, I was too terrified to move. I was shocked and unsure of what had just happened. So I stayed there for a while. I knew I needed to go see a doctor. My mom took me to several doctors, and each one had a different diagnosis.

The first doctor we saw was extremely rude. When I went into her office, she didn’t do any tests at all. She immediately grabbed my foot and started pressing on it until it hurt. Then she claimed (just from touching my foot) that I had a life threatening disease and the only way I would ever stop hurting was by going through more pain. When I asked her what was going on and how she knew this, she kind of blew me off and just walked out of the room. Excuse me, lady, but how am I supposed to trust you if you act like you don’t even care? So we decided to see someone else.

We moved on to the next doctor. Dr. Ruben was wonderful. Unlike the first one we met with, she was kind and actually listened to me. She diagnosed me with Plantar Fasciitis, and we started wrapping my arch with some special medical tape. I also received two cortisone injections. The first of those injections helped, but the second only made things worse. After my second shot, I had gone from crutches to a wheelchair. I went to prom in tennis shoes (Thank you God, for allowing me to walk pain-free at prom!) and graduated in my wheelchair. It was very difficult and I was embarrassed that I had to do all this during one of the most important moments of my life. I had lost my mobility and my independence. My friends and family were supportive, but they just didn't understand.

I was getting desperate until my mom mentioned this doctor she had discovered online. He had a nerve in the foot named after him, so I figured that he must be knowledgeable enough to help me out. When I finally met him, he told me that he knew exactly what the problem was: a trapped nerve. He seemed very nice, positive, and sure of my recovery, so we discussed a boot and then decided to get surgery on my foot for Tarsal Tunnel Syndrome. I became a trooper; I was so ready to finally be better. Though the recovery was painful and caused me to lose a lot of sleep, I finally made it through and was walking again! A miracle at that point, I was sure I had been cured!

When we went back to get the stitches out, I told the doctor that I was feeling much better and was finally able to walk again. He said that the pain wouldn't be fully gone for about a year, so I should expect a few twinges during the next few months, but it was simply a part of the healing process.

As promised, I felt the twinges. Then I felt worse and worse. The pain had come back. I talked to the doctor and he said that he didn't know what was wrong with me. He basically threw up his hands and said, "There's nothing more I can do to help you. I guess you’re just going to have to live with this for the rest of your life.” I was appalled at this answer and my mom and I just stood in the doctor’s office about to cry. I couldn’t give up, though. I had to find an answer to what was doing this to me.

So we tried yet another doctor. He suggested an MRI, so into the machine I went. When we got the results back, my MRI was totally clean. I was completely healthy. The doctor was baffled and simply admitted that he couldn’t help us. I appreciated his honesty, but this still left me at a dead end. I didn’t really know where to go next. We had almost given up hope at this point. I had been in school and got a summer job and apartment with a friend and I had to give it all up and come back home. I even tried working closer to home and I couldn’t even manage that. The pain had gotten so bad that I sat on my bed all day doing nothing, with ice on my foot to dull the pain. I was helpless and frustrated. I remember the day my mom was sitting next to me on my bed, crying and saying, "Honey, we are going to get through this if I have to spend a million dollars.”She wasn’t going to stop trying to help me. This is part of the reason why I owe so much to my parents – because they are always helping me no matter what.


A friend of my parents suggested that we go see someone who had helped him with a damaged nerve in his back - a neurologist named Dr. Skaribas. We were beyond ready for a solution, so we took his advice, said a quick prayer, and went to see the neurologist. As soon as we sat down in his office, we were greeted by a cheerful group of nurses that led us to a back room. When Dr. Skaribas came in, he sat down and he just LISTENED… something that most doctors hadn’t bothered to do for me before.

There were no immediate tests, no "I know what you have already," no "have you tried this or this or that or bla bla bla;" he just listened. It was nice. I talked with him for a while and then he looked at his nurse and nodded. He told me his hypothesis, but he also added that he wanted to run some tests first. He explained why my medical history supported this theory, and my available options for treatment.

Above all, the thing he said that stuck with me the most was, "Samantha, you ARE going to get better." He was so sure and so determined. I finally had a sliver of hope. My mother was hopeful as well.

A St. Jude representative sat down and talked with us about neurostimulation and gave me a wealth of information on the procedure and device. After some discussion, my family and I decided that it was right for me. I had to go through a psychological evaluation and several tests, but they finally approved me for a trial implant in September of 2011. I was sitting in my dorm room with my friends when I got the phone call. I started crying and everyone got so excited. I was also very nervous, but I knew that I couldn’t give up now.


The trial surgery was a piece of cake. A wire sticking out of my back was not the most comfortable thing, but it was a lot better than foot pain. I’m not going to lie – pushing myself to actually try to walk was terrifying – I was so scared that I would fail. I saw such great results so soon that Dr. Skaribas wanted to do the permanent implant ASAP - as soon as they took out the temporary one. So we did!


I came in to the hospital on crutches. After the surgery, my mom came in to the recovery room. I looked at her and she said, "How are you feeling?" I started crying and said, "Mom, for the first time, it doesn't hurt. I'm not in pain. I'm so happy." She immediately teared up and smiled. The day had finally come. I was getting better!

When I was able to leave the hospital, I used a wheelchair to get to the car. Once I got home, however, I started walking. Day by day, my walking increased. I was amazed that it had all happened so fast.

I remember going back to school to see my friends. I was so excited I couldn’t stop from smiling. The minute I got to my dorm, my boyfriend and roommate were waiting for me inside. I stepped inside the door, took off my shoes and started to walk around. My boyfriend was unable to keep a straight face and started crying and hugged me. It was such a happy moment.

Since that day, I’ve been getting better and better. I can now wear some normal shoes, depending on the height and other features that may affect my pain. I have not used my wheelchair or crutches since 2011. I am a new woman! Though the disease still affects me on a daily basis, it is nowhere near as excruciating as it was before my surgery. I am so thankful to Doctor Skaribas and St. Jude’s for this amazing change to my life.

During this process, I lost a lot of faith and self-confidence. Having a disease like this makes you different, and I wanted to fit in so badly. I wanted to go out with my friends and have fun and go running and be able to keep up, but I just couldn’t anymore. Losing that ability hurt so badly. People were not always kind to me, either. I was called names like gimp, crutch girl, broken, cripple, and more. People would often ask me if I was faking the pain for attention. There was so much ignorance and cruelty and I had to battle it all by myself, but it made me a stronger woman. Having this disease has taught me that I can do anything because I am strong enough. It made me thankful for what I have and in turn, gave me so much happiness in my life from my acceptance of my situation. Having RSD made me sympathetic to others going through this and made me understand how it is to live life without your independence. I treat those with such diseases as mine differently now because of my experiences. I know how much it hurts when people look at you a certain way because you have RSD and you can’t walk or you can’t attend an event at the last minute. People judge you. I’ve learned to be realistic about my future and my plans and to not overwork or overexert myself. I enjoy the little things. I relish the time I get to spend with my family and I turn every negative into a positive no matter what. That’s how I keep a smile on my face – I work hard to stay happy and it really doesn’t even feel like work!

I still have flares when I do a lot of physical activity during the day, but it’s not constant anymore. Though I am in pain most of the time, I am thankful that it is not as bad as it used to be. I have learned to plan things better and have become more productive and successful due to this strategy. I am graduating from college in December and then I am going to graduate school – a whole new adventure! I am very excited for what the future holds. Whether a cure is ever found (which I hope there is soon), it doesn’t change the fact that RSD doesn’t own me. I have this disease, and it will NEVER have me.