Don’t read this: You’ve been warned

I am angry.  Angry at doctors.  Angry at bad pain med changes.  Angry at pain.  Angry at hope and futures.   

I don’t swear without real anger, and I don’t drop the f-bomb lightly.  But being the good mormon girl I am, it is the only way I can convey how much each situation sucks.    If I offend you, come back next week when they’ve fixed me.

So here it goes, what I texted Grant to talk about with my LDS psychiatrist:

“Fuck this-Depression.  Not caring to care for myself, sleeping a lot, dark thoughts, hope of improvement gone from my heart, along with motivation to do the things that (might) help.  How can I get on top of the pain when the depression is drowning me?

Fuck this-being dumped by my surgeon, turning to Suboxone as I ran to low on narcotic pain meds and I didn’t want to accidently O.D.   That would get me labeled a “drug seeker”  when really i’m just a pain hater.  Instead I got  withdrawal and/or just change to Suboxonde this weekend.  It Sucked.  I felt more “high” this weekend than ever in my past use with narcotics.

Fuck this-driving.  When can I drive myself again?  What point do I need to be on meds that I can drive again?  Depression PLUS asking for every damn ride to the multiple doctor appointments EQUALS a shitty self esteem.  Sure, it’s hard to take time out of ones life to help me, but at this point the blow to my ego is so damaging when I call so man people without getting help.  When will I know I’m safe to others and myself on the road?

Fuck this-I hate my pain management talk therapist.  So does Grant.  But I need a pain management doctor’s group that i LOVE and TRUST.  I’m stuck with permanent nerve damage in my left SI serve root/foot.  I’m past the help of my primary doc.    What do I do know?  The boot camp of the UW program?

Fuck this-one more surgery July 22.  Drinking one more half gallon of fucking colon cleaner.  It’s a Tuesday night too, Grant’s bill night.  I don’t want to be alone and hungry all day again before they slice me open.  The next day they are just going to dump me in pain, to go home and suffer at home to get someone to listen to me. 

Fuck this-Doing all the above while being a guilty mom to 4 young ones.  Just being in the same room as my kids wears me out.  They can’t keep their hands off me.   But I also miss their hugs and kisses.   I hate pushing them away.  I hate adding to Grant’s already overwhelming responsibilities.  How much therapy will that cost the kids when they  grown up?

Fuck this, so screwing around here.  N.O.N.E.  Even when we get the doctors green light, am I going to be in new pain?  Great, let’s cause the one good thing about life to start causing pain.  And what about these stupid meds that have listed side effects to interfere with climax.    Talk about leaving my ego bruised and bleeding on the floor. 

 

So, I’ve taken a chance.  I’ve been completely honest and open with you.  I’ve got lots of bitter feelings.  Pain is a great breeding ground for bitterness.    But this is part of it, this is part of this roughest year.  Lets see how many of you can stick out the crap and hope for better days to come. 

Don’t waste to much worry on me.  I meet with a pain management doctor this afternoon.   He’ll get my f-ing story.  And maybe in a few years I’ll f-ing laugh at this day.