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My Profile
Fairytales for a Practical Princess - 2008-11-30
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8:35 a.m. - 2004-07-01
I keep swinging between despair, anger, fear, and an ostrich impulse to jam my lumpish malfunctioning head into the soft loam of my tomato patch and stay there. I’d like to know where this retinue of wonderfully caring medical people is, it’s not here that’s for sure. To get the Vicodin the other day I had to SWEAR at my GP. He was certain my headache (which was caused by misaligned neck muscles and inflamed nerve endings via MS) was REALLY a cleverly disguised kidney infection. I kid you not. After 10 minutes of obtuse questioning and being poked at the wrong end of my body I cussed him out and told him to write me a scrip or I’d start screaming. He would NOT give me muscle relaxants or anything useful like a steroid. My old neurologist died several months ago. I have an appointment with a new one on August 9. The receptionist saw how much pain I was in and ‘hurried things up’. Otherwise my appointment would be in October. I DO NOT HAVE HEALTH INSURANCE and I’d like it if my children had luxuries like food. I do not have the money to go doctor hopping until one finally coughs up something which will help me. I do not have credit cards to rack up with a lot of medical bills. We are ‘too rich’ to afford Medicaid. So can someone please tell me where all these wonderful attentive and concerned doctors are? You know, the ones who will see me while I’m sick? The ones who will listen to me? Maybe one who actually HELPS? I’m starving, but can’t eat. My tongue is all metallic tasting and my throat muscles are spazzed out. My gag reflex is the only thing above my sternum which IS working and it is set at ‘projectile’. If I get something in my mouth and start chewing I immediately start gagging and have to spit it out. Liquids are problematic, my mouth doesn’t seal. I drool all day. I can suck stuff through a straw if I don’t mind half of it leaking out onto my shirt. Mike has been wonderful. Patient, kind, and here. Keeping the kids safe and busy. Helping me get around. Calming me down when the hysterics want to take over. A real hero, but he cannot fix me. He also keeps asking me what I want to do. What he can do to help. My only answer is… HOW THE HELL SHOULD I KNOW???? I’m sick. I’m scared. My face is messed up. I don’t know how to help myself. I don’t know who I should call or whether I should have an ice pack or a heating pad or what my choices are or anything! I. Don’t. Know! How could I know? Did I go to medical school and someone forgot to tell me? I can’t think. Shit, I can’t even swallow. I want people rushing around taking charge. I want someone else to do the thinking and deciding. I want someone who knows what to do. Someone who knows whether I should see an accupuncturist or a chiropractor or if I should go to the ER and howl until they admit me. I want someone to come over and hold my hand and tell me it’ll be okay. I want fancy pills and some vegetable soup. I want my head to stop hurting. I want my face back. And I don’t even know where or how to start getting those things. I can’t figure it out this time. I’m just feel stuck and scared and confused. ~LA
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