Maybe …. hey, it’s my blog and I can pretend that it’s not definite… ahem…. Maybe I’m just a cranky old bitch or maybe it’s cos I’ve been trying to lay off the analgesics or maybe its cos I gave my car back to  the smash repair dudes along with a ‘I’m not fucking happy Jan’ which has left me stuck in the house all day .., but everything seems to be annoying me today.

The smell of the dreaded coffee machine seems as objectionable as a dirty ashtray. The mess in Angel’s room isn’t the sign of a creative young mind it’s a deliberate ploy from an unusually Machiavellian six year old to trigger my OCD tendencies.  BigSal using the last of the milk and then putting the empty bottle back in the fridge  wasn’t an absentminded habit, it was a conscious effort to sabotage my desire for an afternoon cuppa.  Yale setting his PDA to mimic the TV remote and using it to fuck with the TV isn’t indicative of his gadgetry skills, it’s a predetermined attempt to make me twitch  🙁

The world is against me today – I’m sure of it.  I’m in pain (whoop de do – what else is new) and I’m avoiding taking any medication because it’s been having detrimental effects on my system.  Now, normally I don’t like to share stories about bodily functions because I just don’t think it’s particularly ladylike to share that sort of thing.  Additionally, I don’t tend to find a great deal of amusement myself in toilet humour – call me a snob but there it is.  Anyway the drugs aren’t good and its starting to get beyond a joke  🙁  Take Drug Number One to try to alleviate back pain.  Discover that Drug Number One has unwanted effect on one’s… regularity.  Take Drug Number Two to try and alleviate side effects of Drug Number One.  Find Drug Number Two is too effective and instead of wondering when you’re going to go… you’re wondering if you’re going to make it in time,  Stop taking Drug Number Two and realise you’re in trouble if you take Drug Number One.

Urgh… the panacea is worse than the… oh  fuck it.
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I went to an appointment today, arranged for me by the Workers Comp people, with a doctor whose sole function was to report to them on my condition…. and if felt just like the old days.  All those old medico-legal appointments (some 42 odd specialists) I had to see when I found myself bogged down amidst the most horridly complicated and hideously drawn out third party injury case which pretty much eclipsed the better part of my 20s.    It’s always same…a ridiculously impossible ask from the start – how am I supposed to describe a 16 year history of back pain in 25 words or less?  Or in this case in 35 mins or less? 

He asks ‘where does it hurt?’
I say ‘here… here… here… here and …here’
He asks ‘when did it start?’
I say ’16 years ago (snip) but 6 weeks ago it got worse… much worse…’
He asks ‘what are you taking ?’
I say ‘drug A in the AM, drug B in the PM, drug C for sleep and drug D if I’m desperate’
He asks ‘what else are you doing about it?’
I say ‘whatever the good doctors and physios tell me to’  *

Then he pokes and prods a bit, asks me to move this way, move that way, twist this, flex that… ‘Does that hurt?  Yes?  No?   Where?’
But mostly he just scribbles furiously on his little note paper and says “Ahuh… I see..” a lot, while at the same time it is patently obvious that he does not.

And he’s of no use to me, because he doesn’t treat his subjects.  And yes, I use the term ‘subjects’ because to call them ‘patients’  implies they are receiving medical care, medical treatment or medical attention of some sort.  Whereas the medico-legal examining physician doesn’t treat at all.  He doesn’t give a shit about making recommendations on how one might alleviate their symptoms and certainly doesn’t offer any useful suggestions towards rehabilitation.  He’s just observing and reporting, observing and reporting.  And most of his observations and definitely his reportings are tainted with his preconceived determination that everyone he sees is full of shit and trying to skive out of work!

So as the ‘consultation’ (and I use the term loosely) draws to a close… Borys(ever determined to get her penny’s worth and in her usual masochistic manner) has the temerity (for rash it is) to inquire if he has ‘seen any other persons with repeated whiplash injuries, and well…. how have they fared?’  Stupid, stupid… girl… for what good can come of such a question?   🙁

He says, yes, he’s seen a number of people with ‘benign chronic back pain conditions’, and he feels that it’s ‘often less to do with what’s going on with their back, and more to do with what’s going on in their heads’ as to whether or not they recover in a timely fashion.  Nice… huh.  So having spent the last decade learning to cope with my pre-19.11.2007 pain levels… I’m not qualified to decide whether my pain is worse or maybe just I’m emotional about it and therefore unable to cope psychologically.   “You’re thinking of yourself as being back at square one, when you should be thinking – I’ve done this before and I can do it again!” (direct quote – the only one in the post for the record – and delivered with a cheery smile nonetheless).

It must be contagious for I said  “Ahuh… I see.”  and stared blankly at him for a moment.  I wanted to scream at him… “I KNOW HOW TO COPE WITH CHRONIC PAIN YA FUCKIN’ PLONKER, I’VE BEEN DOING IT FOR A DECADE AND A HALF, BUT THIS IS WORSE THAN BEFORE – IT”S  TEN FUCKING DIFFERENT COLOURS OF WORSE!  YA MORON!”   But strangely enough I restrained myself  😐

Sniff, sniff…   I’ve been crying most of the day – and I hate that .  As often as I’ve wished for just one day to wake up with out pain…  I’ve equally often wished to magically transfer that pain to someone else so they could understand how it feels to live with a fucked back for a few days and then they would know what it’s like to be in pain from morning until night.  Because these doctors don’t seem to get it.  Pain management and one’s ability to cope with pain… is only partly psychological, but there is such an experience as being in more protracted… more powerful… more prolonged… more encompassing… more concentrated… more. pain. full.stop.  Which is where I’m at.

* Please note, Dear Reader that  this representation does not in any way shape or form resemble the actual conversation or sequence of events that occurred at said appointment, but rather reflects a Readers Digest version where quotes etc have been truncated for my sanity and yours.  😐
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