I haven’t written one of these in a long while, primarily because they’re starting to get depressing.
I’m finding it harder and harder not to feel hopeless about my situation. And I can’t really talk about it with anyone because I don’t want to burden people with my medical drama. Everybody has crap going on in their life, and there are literally millions of people with medical issues worse than mine. Also, one of my greatest concerns is financial and when you talk to somebody about financial worries it comes off like you’re begging for money.
So I’ll talk to myself.
On the morning of April 3rd I woke up incredibly ill, so physically ill I could not walk. I spent the day fumbling around on the floor, pissing myself in two different rooms, hurting my left leg after trying to get on my knees, and hitting my head twice. I called the office that day and said I’d be out another day. The next day was just as bad, and when my boss and Kalin called to check up on me they decided it was time to go to the ER. I should have figured that out for myself but I’m either too stupid or stubborn or ashamed to ask for help.
So Kalin and Olivia (the boss) dragged my ass down three flights of stairs and took me to the ER. I was admitted to our local hospital and stayed 5 fabulous nights. Everyone at the hospital was kind, helpful, patient and caring. And none of them could find my veins. This has been a problem of mine and the reason I never voluntarily give blood. Too many flashbacks of horrible experiences in hospitals. To be honest, this was my first overnight hospital stay since 1990. But this stay brought it all back.
I got out of the hospital and felt incredibly weak. I managed to get back to work but by last weekend I was so wiped out I spent Friday night and Saturday zonked out in my recliner. (By this time my apartment was a mess and I had yet to have the energy to do something about the places where, now one full week ago, I had pissed myself.)
So Sunday I forced myself. I felt like Michael Keaton after he gets his act together in “Mr. Mom”. I cleaned the offending laundry, took out the trash (two trips), neatened up my living room and felt great about myself. Exhausted but great.
On Monday I walked to work and again, it just knocked the wind out of me. Later that day I had an appointment to check in with my doctor. My doctor seems to be taking a smorgasbord approach to my medical issues. After leaving Monday’s appointment (which included another dandy blood draw) I had to pick up 2 prescriptions, take home a stool collection kit (delightful), pick up a breathing measurement doo hickey at the medical supply, and he thinks he wants a full brain MRI and maybe one or two other tests.
Maybe other patients are tasked with that and don’t bat an eyelash. But it fucking overwhelmed me.
This Tuesday I’m going to see a neurosurgeon–just a consultation but possibly a step closer to getting the Chiari Malformation operated on. The financial aspects of all this still bear down on me like nothing I’ve ever experienced. Even with my work insurance, a 5-night stay in the hospital is going to cost thousands of dollars. And who the fuck knows how much the surgery will cost? It makes me sick to my stomach every time I think about it.
Kalin says as long as I make some kind of payment every month they’ll be patient, which I know is true. Doesn’t make me any less nervous.
Oh, and in the midst of all of this I cancelled the trip to Los Angeles–the one thing I had to look forward to in this morass of doctors and tests and stress. I was too weak to go. And honestly I felt guilty about my co-workers filling in for one week then me turning around and going on vacation. They can say whatever they want but they would despise me if I went on that trip. I’m already concerned that all this medical stuff is making me a burden, a liability, and less of an employee.
When this gets me feeling worst, I start thinking maybe 2018 was my last good year. It was really good–three concerts, trip to Vegas, I could walk without getting winded. Good year. Maybe the last one. I try not to feel that hopeless all the time…but it’s very hard. I wish I were a stronger person.