The best laid plans of mice and men are ‘aft gang a-glay’

Pain Management Clinic – Day One
Get up stupid early, feeling dopey
No time for heat packs or stretching.
Cabbie to Pain Clinic drives like a maniac.
Have obviously forgotten how bad taxi drivers are.
Arrive on time but get lost in Hospital labyrinth and end up late.
Go through tedious admissions procedure.
Get assessed by Physio team
Describe my 4 MVAs and 16 yrs of chronic pain issues.
Get assessed by clinical/medical team
Describe my 4 MVAs and 16 yrs of chronic pain issues.
Get assessed Psych team.
Describe my 4 MVAs and 16 yrs of chronic pain issues.
Need some heat packs but chug some extra analgesics instead.
Do the horrid introductions of people I don’t care about

“Hi My name is Frank/Doris/Brad and I’m here for (insert generic pain related condition here) and I am  hoping the program will help me achieve (insert generic optimistic blather here).”
Blah Blah Blah… nodded off in there somewhere.
Quickly become aware that I’m the veteran in our little group.
Describe my 4 MVAs and 16 yrs of chronic pain issues…. AGAIN!
Am greeted with some ‘Shit maybe I’m not so bad after all’ looks
And a couple ‘Fuck I hope I don’t end up like her’ expressions.
Attend lecture on the physiology of pain.
Discussion on types of pain ensues.
Discover I have some symptoms that I’ve been overlooking.
Heat packs = still zero ; Analgesics = now 6
Individually tailored stretching and exercise regimes given out.
Finish up nearly 30 mins late.
Call taxi to take me home again
No shit.  😐
Borys loses the plot entirely…. tears, babbling, panic and anxiety.
Abuse is hurled at Cabbie until he pulls over.
Borys gets out and tries to compose herself. 
Spend remained of journey thinking I may be better off driving myself even though I am experiencing severe traffic phobia and am half stoned on a veritable cocktail of various medications most of the time.
Get home exhausted and anxious
Finally get much needed heat pack at 17:30….


I feel like I don’t have the vocab to express how distressed i have been.  It’s like I am sitting in a corner and struggling to hold it together.  And I find it extremely difficult to tell the people around me what’s going on in my head, in my body.  It’s almost like I don’t trust them enough to let them in and see this messy me.

I honestly feel like i don’t want to be here.. in my skin.. in pain… in this life.  I don’t want to be this person.   i hate it.  I’ve been in some pain for the last 16 years and since this last accident I am now I’m in so much pain I can’t handle it.  I’m going to the pain clinic tomorrow.   This will be the third time at one of these ‘adjustment to injury’ programs.

They’re going to spend three weeks trying to convince me that this is just my life now and i have to get used to it.  The prospect of which is exhausting because I’ve done this once before and it takes years… literally years and I don’t know if I can do it again.

Who’d be a parent?

Angel had an accident ice skating today.  Which no doubt is a fairly common thing in some parts of the world but in BrisVegas where the outside temp was roughly 37degrees today… ice skating aint exactly a big sport.  I mean Brisbane has approximately 2 million residents these days and exactly 2 ice skating rinks.

I thought he’d be fine going ice skating with a bunch of Canadians who’ve been ice skating since the time they could walk, and I expected he’d come home with a wet butt and maybe a handful of bruises, but I certainly wasn’t expecting a call from Mr K saying he was following an Ambulance with MY Small Child in it to the Mater Children’s Emergency Ward.  Apparently Angel was doing great, skating well and spinning about and having a ball with relatively few falls and mishaps … relative that is for a Queensland kid that is who is more comfortable at the beach than at an ice rink.

Anyway, he was skating along with Grandpa behind him when he lost his balance… as you do – when you strap steel blades or wheels to your feet… and took a tumble.  Grandpa, who has been skating since Methuselah was a boy and has spent much of his adult life playing ice hockey in a rough-as-guts pub league up Vancouver Island way, tried to evade crashing into the Small Child while he was in the middle of the whole falling-on-your-arse process.  Somehow in the middle of all that flailing of limbs (in a way I still can’t picture in my head), Angel’s face came into contact with Grandpa’s recently sharpened ice skates slicing down the left side of his face from above his eye and down his cheek.

Well I did the predictable thing and high tailed it to the hospital (like some sort of masochist I had Big Sal drive me there…. she’s absolutely one of the worst drivers I know and certainly not the best person to be driving a currently traffic phobic and exceedingly distressed Borys to the hospital).  After a terrifying drive into town, I arrived to see one very upset little Angel with a gash above and below his eye that was about one centimeter wide.  It was so hard to not let him see how worried I was.

We had to wait quite a while to be seen which I guess is par for the course at a public hospital, but the doctors were excellent and Dr Gail who treated him had a bedside manner that was second to none – she was fantastic.  At first they thought he might need stitches but once the wound was cleaned up properly they could see it was a very clean cut so they were able to Super Glue the cut closed.  He’s going to have a scar, but hopefully it won’t be as bad as it would have been if some poor overworked sleep deprived public hospital intern had sutured his cuts.

So I feel like I’ve been put through the emotional wringer today –
Absolutely frantic with worry:
sharp ice skate… hospital… Small Child’s little face… ambulance  
Distraught in traffic: 
worst driver in Bris… also stressed… in a hurry
Back pain out the wa-hoo: 
ridiculously tense… no lunch…. too many pills… light headed…
Distressing treatment:
syringes… swabs… Small Child crying in pain clutching his Jedi figurine
Eventual relief:
no stitches… bravery stickers… gratitude for Dr Gail…  and the obligatory Happy Meal on the way home.

And now I’m positively drained and it’s rounding on 1am…..  but I am so wired I can’t even think of sleeping.  I need a hug.

Doggie Heaven

With the Small Child going to Catholic school nowadays, I’ve been thinking lately about how the church and I kinda parted ways.  And from what I can remember it wasn’t the usual Evolution vs Creation debate…. it was something altogether simpler that didn’t gel with my young brain.  Sr Mary-Clare (God bless her cotton frocks) used to teach us Religious Education (and everything else come to think of it) when I was in primary school in a time when we still used to get sent to the Principal’s office for ‘the cuts’ if we perpetrated one of a gazillion ill-defined infractions.  She did her best I guess with a bunch of kids who would yawn rudely as she tried to beat some catechism into us.  No doubt it was our blatant boredom that caused her to frequently retaliate with her own special weapon of mass dysfunction – that uniquely Catholic torture known as the Liturgical Dance  😐

I recall one day when I was in Grade 3 one of my classmates,  Libby Free (there’s a name I haven’t thought of for a few decades) had come to school upset because their family dog had been run over by a car and her parents had told her that Rover/Fido/Fluffy  (insert generic dog’s name of your choice) had gone to heaven.  Well Sr Mary-Clare was having none of that.  So she set the record straight… “We (Catholics) do not believe that animals have souls – only humans have souls….. so Rover/Fido/Fluffy can not go to heaven.”   Which being ever a laterally thinking little miss (Yes my teachers often had that slightly hesitant and fleetingly exasperated look about them whenever I raised my hand with a question ) caused me to say “But Sr Mary-Clare… last week you said humans ARE animals” or something of that ilk. 

Whatever explanation she offered for this glaring contradiction is long forgotten and likely irrelevant.  Needless to say it didn’t satisfy my young curiosity and being spoon fed Catholicism throughout my entire education rapidly became something to be tolerated but eventually deemed to be irrelevant and even fanciful.  As I got older the Evolution vs Creation argument definitely cemented that particular sentiment and by the time I was paying attention to international news and/or politics as a young adult most other organized religions were firmly added to the list of “Stuff Borys Wants Nothing To Do With”.

Yes I know… I’m going to hell (if it pleases you to believe in such a place).