Well any day which starts waking with the feeling that someone left your body on an expressway overnight and ends with about 20 minutes of prolonged crying isn’t going to be chalked up as “the good one.” Just a note here to those who think women look good crying, that’s really only for the first minute or two, after 20 minutes it is just fluids coming out of every facial orifice. It is not only a bit nasty and slippery looking but it becomes really hard to breathe.
Last night, I actually had to be helped onto the toilet, and off again, which is a new low for me. I did sort of make it on the toilet, just not actually facing the right direction, and I had a severe list toward the east. There is really nothing to replicate having an adult have to hoist you ON a toilet and wait for you to go.
I’m sure this odd regression to early childhood would be less ludicrous if I wasn’t 6’3” and 195lbs. Trust me, no one is “carrying me” to place my bottom gently on the toilet. I have this horrid vision of Linda having to throw a party for the people on our apartment building’s floor in order to have enough people around to hoist me for a pee. There is, of course, the catheter option. But I was really hoping to save that for Christmas.....2008.
Anyway, I had the unfortunate experience today of being told (emphatically!) that the Province of British Columbia would much rather have me with a chronic condition for life than investigate a treatment which might reverse my condition because it costs: $14,000. Actually it was put more bluntly, “Do you think they are going to order that treatment for you, because they aren’t, because it costs $14,000!” Well, I always knew that my value as a human being went straight into the crapper once I was disabled but....sheesh.
Because I am who I am, I told her that if we wanted to base my treatment on purely economic decisions, that I recommended she harvest my organs as soon as possible before they become non-viable. Then, far, far away from her I cried. Perhaps it wouldn’t sting QUITE so much if the same person hadn’t ordered a repeat of my full spinal MRI not because there wasn’t something there but rather because she had told me there wouldn’t be, and there was. So, instead of telling me what the radiologist found in “multiple sections of the MRI” she is ordering the test to be done again, in the assumption that it was all an error (She literally said, “The radiologist says there is something in several sections but I don’t accept that….” I asked if she had seen the MRI; no. Not even the sections they found something in? No. She said she could overrule the findings of the radiologist but instead she ordering the test done again.) So the MRI will be sometime in early to mid 2008. My parents cannot quite understand this: “But it is a different MRI she is doing?”
“But this one is a closer MRI?”
“But it is from a different angle?”
“Why are they doing it then?”
“Uh....she doesn’t like to admit she’s wrong?”
It was the last in a long week of at least one prolonged medical test or appointment each day. And I am burnt out. Rake out the fireplace, I’m all of cinders.
Tomorrow I will go out and find some joy or at least come up with something that fakes it with close enough proximity so that you don’t have to hear about “bad days” for a while. The truth is, I don’t want to depress anyone else. Just because I feel sucky doesn’t mean I want lots of company (only room for one prima donna at THIS pity party!). So have fun, go drinking, have sex, do rude things with various fruits and vegetables. And remember, mild sobbing for two minutes max, then try to transfer into some sort of cute hiccup thing. Unless you are alone, and then let her rip!
2 hours ago