Lies I Tell Myself

I’m going to bang this blog out real quick since I’m working and need to get some crap done.

What am I talking about? I don’t know how to write anything but lengthy. I’m far too detail oriented with things that don’t require being written. Oh well.

To begin with I slept so deeply last night until about who knows…dreams supposedly only last a split second but they sometimes feel like they’re going on forever. This one lasted far too long. I was in a very sterile room. Everything was white, stark and cold. I was laying on a cold table and was naked I recall a sheet was covering my thighs and I was laying on my stomach with my head resting on my arms crossed in front of me.

Weird enough, but even more so my boss was standing there in white as well, with a rather large scalpel. And he was talking to a group of men I’ve dated or were in actual relationships with about the procedure and I could feel him cutting open my back and I could feel the slice and realized he was cutting in the wrong place but for whatever reason I couldn’t say anything.  All these guys were looking at me and chatting like it was nothing. What a weird dream and painful. I woke up in a full on anxiety attack from the pain in my dream.

Anyway, woke up, showered and did my hair and makeup, got dressed in jeans and a long sleeve t. You probably don’t need my fashion or makeup commentary. When I feel really crappy I try harder to do more to my hair and makeup because it subconsciously makes me feel better emotionally…if that makes any sense.  Not like I’m opposed to doing my makeup anyway. I never leave the house without mascara but when I get creative, those are the fun days. God, I’m on a tangent that makes no sense.

Got a great parking space on the street right in front of the office (sidenote, I need to plan my appointments slightly later in the day when the Godiva store across the street is open). Head up to the office, first appointment of the day.

After filling out the usual paperwork detailing what kind of pain, where I was feeling pain and so on. I had a feeling since he added medication (some nerve med) to my regimen that he might want to do a urinalysis. And I had to use the bathroom bad so I asked the office manager if he had me marked down for one. She said no, so I went, then came back and was taken to the exam room. A moment later he came in and sat down, flipped my chart asked how I was. I said I was doing ok. He said “well I think I’ll re-write all your prescriptions for 2 months and we’ll see you in 8 weeks for a checkup.”

Uh. What?

He stood up and I said “I spent 30 dollars on a co-pay you’re going to listen to me. What about the shots? You said last time if the shot didn’t work so well for the piriformis then you’d try a radiofrequency nerve burn thing.”

His reply was that I get such limited results from the assorted shots and the amount of steroids I’ve had injected just in the last year is prohibitive. “And you know, with your weight I just don’t think the nerve treatment is going to make that much of a difference.”

I’m sure I gave him a blank stare because what I was thinking was…hey jackass…I didn’t get fat overnight. You knew I was fat 2 weeks ago so why would you give me false hope?

Then he asks AGAIN about my hip surgery and once again I remind him that I’m trying to find a surgeon and waiting just a few more months until I have enough time off.

“I’m not giving up hope on you, I’m sure it must sound like it. I’m glad to keep treating you, I really am but I’m not sure there’s much more that can be done with the issues you have. I understand if you want to get a second opinion at this point and I have some doctors you might want to look into within the practice and some outside of the practice.”

I said fine. I’d consider it. Then he says he needs a urine sample since he changed my meds 2 weeks ago. I said “I just went to the bathroom. When I got here I asked the office manager if I was on tap for a urinalysis and she said no, so I went to the bathroom so unless you have an urn of coffee and an hour of time to waste, it’s not going to happen.”

He stared at me flabbergasted. “uhm. Hmmm. Let me go do your paperwork I’ll be right back.” Ph he opened the door and yelled at her about it too. I felt bad so when I left I apologized. She apologized and said she truly didn’t know and I said I didn’t know but I was very sorry he yelled at her.  She’s a very nice woman and I didn’t want her to feel bad.

I reminded him to write my prescription for the low level muscle relaxer that without I can barely walk. My groin/hip flexor are so tight that without it, I’m a mess. “Oh I forgot about that”

So he disappeared and came back and said he would write my muscle relaxer for 2 weeks and that I’d come back in 2 weeks for a urinalysis then he’d re-write everything. (BTW he kept forgetting to give me the damn muscle relaxer.  Damn.  Literally how many times? Its was one prescription, dude!!!

“Do I get the pleasure of giving you ANOTHER 30 bucks for peeing in a cup?”

He assured me no, just come by in 2 weeks but make sure he’s in the office so I can do the urine sample and then he would see me in 2 months.

I am beyond exasperated. So I’ll go back so I can make sure my patch levels show up correctly and that I’m not on anything else.  I am fairly certain if I was the kind who did recreational drugs and had a pot card for pain relief then I damn sure wouldn’t be seeing him. BUT I’M NOT.

I’m oddly not in as bad of a mood as I was last time I saw him.

The pumpkin patch is Sunday and I’m going to take it easy until then. The swelling in my leg has gone down but I’m still putting my legs up at night and trying to be nice to my hips for the next two days. I am going to be the good Aunt my niece and nephew need and the support my dad needs and the friend my friends with their kids need. Monday I might be crippled, but Sunday is going to be great. J

Thanks for reading as always. Maybe my hormones are in a better place or I’ve just gotten to the right place where I now believe the lies I’m telling myself about how everything will be ok.


About limpalongwithme

Quasi geek, social butterfly, information sponge, lover of spas and I spend my days dealing with major chronic back and hip pain. Recently diagnosed with dysplastic hips as a grown woman and I need a place to talk about it as I try to move forward.
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One Response to Lies I Tell Myself

  1. Mel says:

    1. Holy shit this is a long blog! I decided to scroll down to post my comments as I thought of them and it was a LONG WAY DOWN HERE.

    2. Dreams last onky a splitsecond?? Did you make that up?

    3. I try harder to do my make up or look cute when I really feel shitty because I think I someone feel like that will help hide how much pain I am in.

    4. Time for a new doctor. Fuckwad. (The doctor, not you!)

    5. I want to go on record as being opposed to the pumpkin patch trip! You should just be the Pam that Pam needs right now.

    6. Love you!

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