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beansideFrom September 8th to the 14th is Invisible Illness Awareness Week. I don't necessarily have an illness, but I do have a disability that isn't visible. To look at me, you'd just see a fat chick. To see me walk, nothing. The only time you might notice something is if I'm holding something, and it shakes.
Three of my vertebrae have declared war on my spinal cord. They're shifting in unpleasant ways, causing nerves to be pinched, and muscles and tendons to become tight and strained. the middle one, which is in the middle of my neck is actually pinching into my spinal cord. From the outside, I'm just someone who pops a lot of pills and says that she's in pain.
I wish I could properly explain the kind of toll that constant pain takes on you. I haven't been able to get a good night's sleep in weeks, because I wake up from the spasms and the pain. I have had a headache that mimics a migraine for four days. Even having an hour massage that focused on my neck and shoulders didn't help. I can't take Imitrex or Zomig to make it better, because it's not a true migraine. It's got the same form and function, but a different cause.
Every day, I wake up sore (if it's a good day, the pain lets me nap from my normal wake up around 4 until my alarm 6, but usually not). in pain. My muscles have tightened overnight, and they're in full spasm. I pop a muscle relaxant and my Neurontin, as well as two Zoloft that moderately control my depression.
I go to work, leaving early so that I don't have to deal with heavy traffic which will make the headache worse. On the flip side, that means that most days I will spend 12 hours at work. My boss, while being a nice guy, has no real concept of my disability, and since I can't get insurance for another month, there's not really anyone to fill out a disability plan. Between the meds and my pain level, my concentration sucks ass, and I get a lot of static for it. I have trouble finding my words sometimes, which usually involves me sitting there looking stupid and trying to force words out that my brain doesn't want to say.
If it's a good day, I'll take Tramadol and Tylenol. If it's not, I'll be popping Oxycodone like water. I can't take motrin or alleve, because I shredded my stomach with them previously, and have an ulcer. *sigh*
My family tries to be supportive, but much like the boss, they just don't get it. Everything they've had wrong could be fixed by medication or surgery or whatever, and they just can't understand. Most annoying is the family friend who is a Christian Scientist. She comes over several nights a week now that her husband is dead, and she truly has no clue. I pointed out that mom needed more anti-depressants, and she retorted "no, she just needs more help around the house." Yes, I'll add that to my 45-50 hour workweek, not including travel time, and the six to eight hours a week I watch grandmom so that mom can go to weight watchers and dinner out once a week. I'll just add that to my "free time," shall I? Go pray for me, bitch. I'll be over here with my narcotics and heating pad.
But I don't look sick. I look like a fat slob who just needs to exercise and look at the bright side. Have a cheery outlook, or whatever the fuck. You know what? Screw that. People who say that I should have a cheery outlook or something need to have a hot poker shoved in their spine, and see how fucking happy they can be.
Three of my vertebrae have declared war on my spinal cord. They're shifting in unpleasant ways, causing nerves to be pinched, and muscles and tendons to become tight and strained. the middle one, which is in the middle of my neck is actually pinching into my spinal cord. From the outside, I'm just someone who pops a lot of pills and says that she's in pain.
I wish I could properly explain the kind of toll that constant pain takes on you. I haven't been able to get a good night's sleep in weeks, because I wake up from the spasms and the pain. I have had a headache that mimics a migraine for four days. Even having an hour massage that focused on my neck and shoulders didn't help. I can't take Imitrex or Zomig to make it better, because it's not a true migraine. It's got the same form and function, but a different cause.
Every day, I wake up sore (if it's a good day, the pain lets me nap from my normal wake up around 4 until my alarm 6, but usually not). in pain. My muscles have tightened overnight, and they're in full spasm. I pop a muscle relaxant and my Neurontin, as well as two Zoloft that moderately control my depression.
I go to work, leaving early so that I don't have to deal with heavy traffic which will make the headache worse. On the flip side, that means that most days I will spend 12 hours at work. My boss, while being a nice guy, has no real concept of my disability, and since I can't get insurance for another month, there's not really anyone to fill out a disability plan. Between the meds and my pain level, my concentration sucks ass, and I get a lot of static for it. I have trouble finding my words sometimes, which usually involves me sitting there looking stupid and trying to force words out that my brain doesn't want to say.
If it's a good day, I'll take Tramadol and Tylenol. If it's not, I'll be popping Oxycodone like water. I can't take motrin or alleve, because I shredded my stomach with them previously, and have an ulcer. *sigh*
My family tries to be supportive, but much like the boss, they just don't get it. Everything they've had wrong could be fixed by medication or surgery or whatever, and they just can't understand. Most annoying is the family friend who is a Christian Scientist. She comes over several nights a week now that her husband is dead, and she truly has no clue. I pointed out that mom needed more anti-depressants, and she retorted "no, she just needs more help around the house." Yes, I'll add that to my 45-50 hour workweek, not including travel time, and the six to eight hours a week I watch grandmom so that mom can go to weight watchers and dinner out once a week. I'll just add that to my "free time," shall I? Go pray for me, bitch. I'll be over here with my narcotics and heating pad.
But I don't look sick. I look like a fat slob who just needs to exercise and look at the bright side. Have a cheery outlook, or whatever the fuck. You know what? Screw that. People who say that I should have a cheery outlook or something need to have a hot poker shoved in their spine, and see how fucking happy they can be.
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