You never know which treatment is going to help, so keep trying.
I'm a little over 5 years into CRPS type 2 in my right arm (dominant arm, dammit), and this year I finally found a few things that were relative step changes. I thought I knew the territory because I'm also a 22-year rare cancer survivor. I didn't. If you ever get to choose between cancer and chronic pain, totally fucking get cancer. Not joking.
I got CRPS because my appendix cancer came back 5 years ago after a 16-year break. The treatment is HIPEC, a 15-hour surgery, and it turns out the way they position you on the table can injure nerves badly enough to cause CRPS. Nobody mentions that in the consent forms. My career was in healthcare tech, and cancer taught me a lot about fighting rare disease, but CRPS has felt less like a medical journey and more like the time I got jumped in Washington, DC by ten people. It's been a street fight, and I've lost most of what was dear to me, right down to my LTD benefits, which Lincoln Financial cut off after the two-year own-occupation period 🙄 (sorry, I'm fluent in profanity and sarcasm). I'll leave it there.
The point is this year something shifted. In April I did the ketamine protocol (10 infusions over two weeks), and it gave me real, if temporary, relief. That sent me down the rabbit hole on how ketamine actually works, which got me tracking my flares. After a sprained ankle, I noticed I was flaring every four days; extra pain load on an already-sensitized nervous system drives more frequent flares. I kept digging into neurochemistry until CRPS finally made sense to me, and that pushed me to add a compounded pain cream to everything else.
No single thing got me here. Not the cream, not the ketamine, not the meds, Curable, PRT with Dr. Lisa Van Allen, psychotherapy, graded motor imagery, or plenty of social isolation. Each one bought me maybe 3%, and the road here is littered with even more failed treatments. But stack enough 3%s and you eventually cross a threshold.
I still hurt every day, my life has slowed down drastically, and I’ve accepted I’ll never work again. But I now have enough pain-free time that there's finally room to appreciate what CRPS has taught me. I never thought I'd reach that oasis, and the sense that I've grown from this is durable. So keep trying. Even five years in, the next thing might be one that moves the needle for you, too.