[Tripping On…] Week For Recovery?

I came up with the title for this essay when I woke up this morning, since I woke up for the first time without any significant pain after having last gone outside nearly a week ago… until I moved around. The pain was so severe that I had to go back to bed for almost the entire day. At least tomorrow I’ll have a meeting with yet another doctor to perhaps take mercy on me…

I am losing hope of ever getting better.

Each time I go outside to go see any doctor, it will probably take about a week of pain before I start to feel some degree of normalcy, which is to say, a day where every aspect of my life is not inundated with overwhelming pain. It seems like such a pipe dream to want even one day where I am free from pain, but that’s where I am right now. It’s sad for me to think that this is going to be my new normal. It seems so easy for a doctor or someone to fix. If they want me to exercise more, I’m not sure how I can exercise when even getting out of bed can cause severe pain, but I’ll try.

As much as I have energy for, of course.

I’m exhausted now and I’ve been awake for maybe four hours. This pain is sucking up all of my energy and leaving me feel exhausted, especially when I write about it. If I escape into media then I almost feel OK, but then my spine acts up and distracts me entirely from what I was doing. There’s no relief from this pain. I’m so tired of fighting for my right to live pain-free. I feel like no doctor is actually interested in helping me out. It’s also overwhelming when I am drowning in bills for these doctors that have done nothing for me. The pain management doctor refused to help me out other than telling me it’s another doctor’s problem. The sports medicine doctor received no charts or information so he couldn’t help me.

What will happen tomorrow?

If this is an A-Doctor, what I would like to see is that he’ll order a MRI for me to figure out what’s going wrong with my spine and my body. I would like him to refer me to a new pain management doctor, or even prescribe something for me to better manage my pain than what I have now, which is using all of my strength to endure the pain and only using my remaining Oxycodone when my heart starts overworking. Both seem like basic humanitarian things, but I’ve encountered so many doctors that aren’t interested in treating me like a human being, only as a paycheck to further their incomes.

I feel so sick.

I haven’t bathed in nearly a week. It’s not even really worth it for me to consider my hygiene at this point. If my life is in the hands of doctors that lack any sort of empathy toward me, what’s the use of trying to do things like clean myself? Especially if it hurts so much for me to do anything at all. Over this past week, I’ve had to rely on my cane again. I have my other cane for walking outdoors. How long before I’ll need both to walk around my apartment? How long before I lose the ability to do anything at all and am stuck in bed all day? Will it happen after my meeting tomorrow – where the doctor will probably push me around into various physical examinations and then leave my body to rot, as the other doctors have?

Everything feels so difficult to do.

I can’t leave my apartment. I can’t go down the stairs to throw out trash or recycling. I don’t have the energy to drive over to the mailbox to collect all of the bills I need to either pay or ask my insurance company about. All I have the energy to do is sit here and wait for my next disappointment. As much as I hope that there will be any sort of relief or plan tomorrow, I have to fully expect there to be not much of anything. I hate this pain and I hate having to endure it. I know there must be some sort of lesson to learn from enduring all of this pain, but it’s too much. There’s nothing here for me to learn other than realizing that life is fundamentally worthless when you have to endure so much pain throughout the entirety of your life.

Everything loses its luster when all of the energy you can muster goes toward feeling OK.

I’m sure it will be easy for every doctor to dismiss me as someone else’s problem because of those feelings. Why would I, a patient, want to have a pain-free existence? Surely that is just greed speaking. Why would I want good health? Why would I want to be a productive member of society? That seems too selfish. All of the money I’ve earned over the course of my life will probably end up being forfeited to the many doctors I’ll see to recover some degree of my health, and it won’t even help.

I hate the situation I’m in.

I hate that I can’t escape this pain. I hate that I can’t wake up and go to sleep without being in severe pain or worrying that any movement I do could cause severe enough of pain where all I can do is go to bed and hope to escape the pain for a few hours. My dreams are becoming more vivid and realistic. In my dreams, I am doing the many things that I can no longer do in reality. I only wake up to my alarms or when they become too absurd. I’d rather return to my dreams being non-noteworthy.

That means the nightmare that is my life will need pain management.

Endtable
Quotes: None.
Sources: My personal experiences.
Inspirations: Writing about my life.
Related: Sober Living essays and Tripping On [The American Healthcare System] chapters.
Picture: Template
Written On: 2020 November 17 [5:58pm to 6:23pm]
Last Edited: 2020 November 17  [First draft; final draft for the Internet.]

 

My big goal is writing. My most important goal is writing "The Story." All other goals should work toward that central goal. My proudest moment is the most recent time I overcame some fear, which should have been today. I'm a better zombie than I was yesterday. I'm not better than you and you're not better than me. Let's strive to be better every day.