Ten years ago, if anyone had told me where I would be today, I would have laughed at the absurdity of it. I lived in my half-million dollar dream home. My husband drove an 80k Mercedes and I drove a late model Lexus SUV. I literally had, and did anything I wanted. Of course, the things I wanted were reasonable. My adult son was working and making more money than my husband and I put together. We were a happy, very fortunate family.
Two surgeries, and mutiple medical mistakes later, I was left with two levels in my neck which rejected bone grafts.This left me with intense pain and inflammation, and limited my ability to support my own head. The doctors called it failed back surgery syndrome. The rotator cuff surgery, done on my right shoulder, didn't fix the problem there. Just after surgery, the shoulder was slighly better, but today it is worse than just after the accident. My low back has permanent nerve damage which extends all the way down my left leg. In the process of injecting dye into my spine, to perform a Mylegram with contrast, a radiologist injured nerve root bundles in my low back.
I could have come back from any one of those injuries, but not from all three.
All these doctors"practiced" thier medicine on me, and left me a cripple, unable to work, or take care of myself.
Today, my husband is dead. I live on Social Security Disability. My son is ill, life threatening ill, and he can't work either. He has no health insurance, or income. We live in a state ruled over by Republicans, who refused to expand Medicaid here. I have to choose, on a daily basis, how to spend our money. It is quiet a balancing act to pay our motel bill, get my son to the Doctor, purchase our prescriptions, and still afford to eat. I do a bit of dumpster diving most months behind our local ALDI.
Unfortunately, being disabled in America means you are poor, unless someone in your family has money. Being ill or disabled shouldn't carry a sentence of homelessness, hunger, and lack of medical care with it. It seems to, here in our country today. They feed prisoners better than I eat, better than I can feed my son.
Add intractable pain to the mix, and that's my life today.
I visit a pain clinic every month. They are liscened by the State of TN. I pay my 250$ cash because they don't accept any insurance, not even my Medicare. I pay 50$ a month to be tested for illegal drugs. That's a lot of money for me to spend each month just to pee in a cup. It makes me feel like a criminal while the nurse observes me as I tinkle in the hat. I am subject to be called in for a pill count at any time. If I fail a drug screen, I will be discharged. If I don't show up for a pill count within 24 hours of being called, I will be discharged. If somebody gets angry at me and calls my Doctor's office and concocts a story about me, I will be discharged. I am treated like a criminal. Why should the fact that I am in pain allow the system to treat me like a criminal? I can't fight them, so I swallow my pride, and try to bear this cheerfully.
Other folks treat me differently too, as soon as they discover I am prescribed a narcotic for pain. They either shun me, or cozy up to me and try to get my pills. I have been robbed of my scripts twice in the last year. Living in a cheap, run down, motel, as I am forced to do, is dangerous for an older disabled lady like me.
There is no solution to this life. All I see is more of the same in my future. Sometimes I am in absolute despair. I have turned this over to my higher power to solve, while I manage the day to day problems of my life. I meditate, which helps the pain.
I find myself wondering if I am alone out here, or are there others who suffer as I do? Like House, I find myself wondering why I am still here, and I let the despair drive me to the brink of suicide. So far, I always back away from that final solution, but it looks more attractive every day that goes by. Are there others who struggle with this? What do you do when you feel helpless and hopeless?