Outcome and more of the same.
I woke up this morning with a teeny little spark of hope in my heart. I had a doc’s appointment today and although I have learned not to hinge too many hopes on the outcome of any one appointment, that stupid teasing sliver of hope sometimes makes its way through. I hoped that she might have an idea this time that would make me feel better…or, at least, allow me to be more or less conscious for Christmas so I don’t sleep away my entire break.
The break is causing stress at work, by the way. Because I’m so behind, the bosses would rather I not take the week between xmas and new years off. But…of course! Why would anything work out in my favour? Stupid me.
Anyway. I went to see my doc. I even wrote a quick blog post about how great she could be at times, before I left, but it didn’t have much substance so I deleted it rather than post. I drove there, leaving at 930 this morning, and arrived right on time. The lot was full (it’s always full) so I had to park against the building, but I was happy to find something none the less. I walked in and sat there for ages, as always, and by 1100 she finally popped into the exam room.
I am the worst for hiding my pain, both physical and emotional. I could do just about anything while in pain and do on a regular basis. I can hide emotional chaos as well, unless I completely dissociate, so more often than not, people don’t think I”m suffering. I simply do not present like someone who is. It causes a lot more trouble than it fixes. My doctor knows this…I made sure she understood way back; so I expect a bit of familiarity when I see her, sort of. I forget that this doctor barely reads her patient’s charts and that nearly every appointment is like you’ve never met her before. She doesn’t call with test results, doesn’t follow up on anything at all….she doesn’t even read the damn clinic notes she gets back from her referrals. I was open and honest…told her exactly how much pain I’ve been in recently. I explained the headaches and the nerve pain, the sciatic issues and the constant need to sleep. She jumped on the sleep part.
“Hmmm when’s the last time we did blood work on you?” She asked. “I wonder if you’re not low in something like B12 or Iron?”
I nearly asked her if she was joking.
“Ummm, I think it’s the meds that are making me so drowsy…is that not a fair assumption?” I asked.
She shook her head no and screwed up her face in a weird way designed to demonstrate the stupidity of that suggestion. The fact that the labels on the bottles clearly state that these drugs cause drowsiness must not mean what I thought they did…. (sigh). So, she’s sure it’s an imbalance of some sort that’s making me so tired. Not the constant pain, stress and general crappiness of life. The fact that I need to lie down every two hours to stop my neck pain from building into a headache of disabling proportions likely has nothing to do with it. She told me to go to the nurses room to get my bloods done and then asked me to make a follow up appointment for January. I nearly cried but didn’t, then followed her orders.
The nurse came in and tied my arm off, then poked at me with her nail dozens of times. She couldn’t find a vein (even though I could clearly see one AND I’ve had blood done a gazillion times in my life and have never had a difficult time of it). She tried both arms and just gave up. Now I have to go to a lab to get them to draw it….I’m not sure if I can do this at work (hospital) but I’m going to go check to save me the time which I do not have. I wasted three HOURS this morning on that. Nothing.
She is going to leave me with no medication changes or adjustments until January. She is not making any referrals or suggesting anything at all until she has a chance to review my chart and read the notes from that jack ass orthopod who laughed at me in my appointment for not being severe enough for him to treat. I didn’t bother asking why she’s not read the damn thing yet since it was about a year ago that I saw him. I made my January appointment and walked out, tears stinging my eyes, but I didn’t cry.
I drove back to work feeling hopeless, as I often do when leaving an doctor’s office. I got back here and picked up my voicemail. One from the not crazy boss giving me shit for something I forgot to do and the other was from Colt’s school. Those tears crept back up when I heard the teachers voice.
This morning, I hugged my son and kissed his cheeks and told him to look forward to his day off tomorrow all day long. I asked him to please not swear at anyone and he promised me he would not. I suggested all sorts of distractions for his brain (looking forward to pizza for lunch at the sitters tomorrow, planning the fun things he wants to do on Minecraft when he gets home…etc). He got a good night’s sleep, was in a good mood and promised that he would be good all day. Apparently, “all day” only meant until he got on his school bus. By the time the five minute trip was completed, he had verbally attacked Emily, the beautiful little soul who is the daughter of our sitter…the little angel I love so much and who loves Colt beyond words. He called her a “fat fucking bitch.” (Heart breaks into little bits that scatter on the floor). He then got off his bus and started threatening everyone and swearing non-stop. The threats ranged from wishing the school would burn to the ground to wanting to hurt his classmates (it’s actually worse than that but I can’t bring myself to type it all). He went off on his teachers and EA and pretty much made it a bad morning all around.
I’m at a loss. I was going to take him out of school completely between now and Christmas but I don’t know if the sitter will take him or if we can afford full time daycare. I don’t know if his anger will just carry onto the sitters house (She will not tolerate that and he’ll be burning a hell of an important bridge if he does). Worse, if we take him out, it will be hell making him go back. I’m afraid he’ll see that bad behaviour as a means to an end and we’ll never manage to get him educated at all.
My head hurts so much my vision is fogging at the edges. My neck feels like a stack of jagged shells slowly crumbling beneath their own weight. My shoulders hurt and my back from middle up is drum tight, aching and painful with stinging tendons and nerves. I’m stuck here until January with no hope of improvement unless something spontaneously heals or vanishes. I guess that’s not so terrible…I’ve been in pain a long time now. One more month won’t hurt aside from delaying treatment. I don’t even think there IS treatment out there for me anymore.
All I know is that I can’t just keep going like this. The longer I struggle to hold on, the worse things seem to get. Now I have nothing going for me at all. If someone could just pull the plug I’d slip away so happy to be gone.
I want to be gone. Not dead, exactly, but I want to shed this pain filled body and run away from everything and everyone. Maybe a 30 year coma. That would be lovely….I could work things out in my dream world and live there just fine. The scariest of nightmares seem pale compared to this bullshit. I don’t even know what I’m struggling to obtain anymore. Life will never be normal, let alone good.
This all feels so pointless.