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Another night, another lack of sleep. Painsomnia sucks. It's like I'm not even taking my Ambien. Shoulder has been hurting a lot the last couple of days. I think they way they had me hold my arm during the MRI pissed it off, and it's just stayed angry.
It was bad enough yesterday that I reached out to my primary care to ask for some sort of pain medication to hold me until my ortho appointment on Wednesday. It was a wasted televisit. She gave me prescription strength Alleve. Whoo. I wasn't asking for Fentanyl, for Pete's sake. Maybe just a tramadol or Lortab? But no, I am obviously a drug seeker and she can't possibly help me.
I don't understand. It's not like I fell off a bike and am a little bruised up. I have a demonstrable tear all the way through my muscle, and another smaller tear in a second muscle. I have an MRI that plainly says that my shoulder is fucked. But no, I can't have something to help the pain so I can fucking sleep.
Last night, I was really down. I felt like Eyeore from Winnie the Pooh. The lack of sleep combined with the constant pain is really messing with me. My coping skills are in the toilet. A few paper bags slipped off the shelf in the kitchen, and I sat there getting teary because it just overwhelmed the cope I had at that moment.
I'm still a little down, I have to admit. I'm 51 years old, and this is my first serious injury, which is pretty good, but that also means that I'm having to rewrite my perception of myself. I think part of it is that I'm scared about what this means for treatment, and also I'm kind of grieving the me of before--the me who would get shit done no matter what. Now I'm the one who can't lift her arm over her head or pick up anything heavier than my purse.
This morning, I have a televisit with my psych doctor at 9. Last time we talked, I was having some anxiety issues. He's going to ask how I'm doing now, and I'm going to laugh.
Work is going well. I'm averaging close to 50 calls per day and making about 35 appointments a day. I need to watch my MRI's a little closer, because I've screwed up and put patients on the wrong magnet a couple of times a day. (Some body parts, they want the higher resolution magnet.). So I'm going to try to watch that.
Tonight we have D&D which I've been looking forward to all week! We've got a lot to happen this week! With it being our one player's last game, there's some things I need to get done. I don't generally have a schedule for games, and I wouldn't say I have one for tonight, but I do have an idea about timing for this session. There are certain things that need to happen, and I've got a pretty good sense of how long I need them to take. Fortunately, there's only two big set pieces, and the rest is downtime activities, so we should be good.
Okay, time to get myself together. I need to look reasonably presentable for my appointment.
It was bad enough yesterday that I reached out to my primary care to ask for some sort of pain medication to hold me until my ortho appointment on Wednesday. It was a wasted televisit. She gave me prescription strength Alleve. Whoo. I wasn't asking for Fentanyl, for Pete's sake. Maybe just a tramadol or Lortab? But no, I am obviously a drug seeker and she can't possibly help me.
I don't understand. It's not like I fell off a bike and am a little bruised up. I have a demonstrable tear all the way through my muscle, and another smaller tear in a second muscle. I have an MRI that plainly says that my shoulder is fucked. But no, I can't have something to help the pain so I can fucking sleep.
Last night, I was really down. I felt like Eyeore from Winnie the Pooh. The lack of sleep combined with the constant pain is really messing with me. My coping skills are in the toilet. A few paper bags slipped off the shelf in the kitchen, and I sat there getting teary because it just overwhelmed the cope I had at that moment.
I'm still a little down, I have to admit. I'm 51 years old, and this is my first serious injury, which is pretty good, but that also means that I'm having to rewrite my perception of myself. I think part of it is that I'm scared about what this means for treatment, and also I'm kind of grieving the me of before--the me who would get shit done no matter what. Now I'm the one who can't lift her arm over her head or pick up anything heavier than my purse.
This morning, I have a televisit with my psych doctor at 9. Last time we talked, I was having some anxiety issues. He's going to ask how I'm doing now, and I'm going to laugh.
Work is going well. I'm averaging close to 50 calls per day and making about 35 appointments a day. I need to watch my MRI's a little closer, because I've screwed up and put patients on the wrong magnet a couple of times a day. (Some body parts, they want the higher resolution magnet.). So I'm going to try to watch that.
Tonight we have D&D which I've been looking forward to all week! We've got a lot to happen this week! With it being our one player's last game, there's some things I need to get done. I don't generally have a schedule for games, and I wouldn't say I have one for tonight, but I do have an idea about timing for this session. There are certain things that need to happen, and I've got a pretty good sense of how long I need them to take. Fortunately, there's only two big set pieces, and the rest is downtime activities, so we should be good.
Okay, time to get myself together. I need to look reasonably presentable for my appointment.
