Pain that transforms you
This body of mine.
At times I’ve chosen to make it my enemy. At times, I’ve rebelled, pissed that it wouldn’t do all the things I wanted it to. Then came the phase where I learned to accept and love. And accept and love. And respect, and then comes some more acceptance.
But nothing, NOTHING prepares me for the times when the chronic pain sets in. I’ve been white-knuckling it for weeks now, and it’s about that time when the pain starts to change you. It changes your personality, your patience for people and things. It’s a constant car alarm set off in your head day in and day out. Irritable isn’t the word.
Sit, stand, sit, fetal position, lie down, stand up, pace…. torture.
What is a human’s breaking point I wonder?
The cherry on top of this gift:
To say that managing chronic pain is difficult is a major understatement. Up until this week my Rheumatologist was managing my medication regime. Recently the pain has been so bad that I have had to up the frequency of my pain meds which has resulted in my tolerance going up as well. I am completely open and honest with my doctors, I keep them in the loop at the very least weekly, and earlier this week I was YELLED AT by my doc when I told him I needed more pain medication. He was screaming at me on the phone. I was made to feel like I was doing something wrong, like I CHOOSE to be in a position where I need to call this man up and rely on HIM to help my pain. It’s the worst. It is degrading, and hurtful beyond words to be looked at like I am something other than a patient suffering from intense, debilitating chronic pain. To be accused and treated like a piece of shit crushed me. Instead of talking it out with me this doctor decided to wash his hands of the situation and tell me to “go to the ER” which is just not an option for me. It was a big “fuck you, I don’t care about you” get out of here, this is too hard for me now.
Since then, I have been home every single day nursing my pain. I refuse to go to the ER. I can see the predicament so many chronic pain sufferers are in when their doctors do not understand their pain, or maybe do not believe them. I’ve heard horror stories like this, I’ve heard terrible stories in support groups where women have had to actually buy drugs off the street because no one has believed them or managed their pain correctly. It’s one thing if you want to, it’s quite another if you have to because your doc won’t listen. That is desperation. This is now the second time I have had to experience a doctor’s lack of compassion when it comes to this touchy subject. Yeah yeah, I get it, people abuse pain killers, blah blah, and it’s such a slippery slope with these things and I understand the need to be efficient. But to be an asshole as well? Not OK.
I don’t even know where to go from here. It makes it hard for me to trust anyone with an MD attached to their name at all.
Not one doctor understands what it’s like to live with pain like this each and every single day. And I’m proud of myself because I handle it quite gracefully. So gracefully in fact that almost everyone around me forgets that I am in constant pain. But it’s there and it is MIND BLOWING. It is changing me. Chronic pain is a thief. It sucks the creativity from my veins, the vocabulary from my brain, the motivation from my body. It is silent and deadly and relentless.
I must stop here or I fear I will go on and on. I don’t even know what I hope to gain from this post. I guess I need to resuscitate the hope I once had. Reasons to keep going because right now I feel like I have nothing left to give.
I cry myself to sleep almost every single night. Well, on the nights that I actually sleep…
9 months ago • 5 notes
