Probably everyone who knows me at this point knows that for five years I have had a really serious pain in the left side of my ass. It\’s prevented me from working, sitting, having sex, riding a bicycle, exercising, and basically just being a normal person. During the past HALF DECADE, I was on Medicaid and stuck seeing a litany of doctors who just fucking sucked dried titty. One overdosed me on my own allergy serum, putting me into anaphylactic shock, for chrissakes. I understand the politics of poverty, medicine, government reimbursements, system overcrowding, and all that jazz. I know it too well, because I\’ve lived it.
So Matt and I decided to get married sooner instead of later. Got me on his health insurance. I\’d begged Dr Maude to do that for me — he had Georgetown University\’s health insurance, some of the best in the city — but he didn\’t want to get re-married. In Australia, I was able to be on his health insurance because they recognize common law partnership status for medical benefits. Not so here. I got nothing here except beaten down and misdirected. But once Matt and I were married and his health insurance kicked in two months ago, I set back out to get my left side taken care of, starting with my knee.
My left knee dislocates. Just does, of its own accord. My left buttock is on fire. Just is, can\’t really figure out why it started. If I could have my entire left leg amputated from the hip rotator on down, I would, I really would. The narcolepsy I can live with. ME/CFIDS/FMS can be coped with as long as I don\’t flare up. But my left leg is a lost damn cause, causing me to lose my life. BUT NO MORE.
It\’s only taken PROPER HEALTH INSURANCE. TWO MONTHS. ONE DOCTOR (and some others for second and third opinions). A few tests, one month of physical therapy just to see if it would help (it didn\’t) and everything\’s been straightened out.
I\’m having surgery on my left knee. A month ago, before the physical therapy, this was a possibility. Now it\’s a definite. Doctors decided the physical therapy is only making the knee worse. They\’re going to go in and rearrange the ligaments and such in order to keep the kneecap from slipping out. Easy peasy. But that\’s not the appalling, devastating, brilliant part. No, the special moment lies with my ass.
Motherfuckers ran so many goddamn tests on my ass. I got so used to disrobing in front of a group of strangers, explaining my symptomology, pointing to where it hurts (\”HERE, in the middle of my CHEEK\”), splaying for a probing examination, and limping home in misery when all the poking, prodding, and injecting had failed. Of the litany of tests run, here are those that I remember: X-ray of hip, X-ray of pelvic bone, two MRIs of sacrum and coccyx, CT of pelvis without contrast, CT of pelvis with contrast, CT of abdomen without contrast, and SPECT bone imaging of entire body. These tests mostly came back negative. \”Mostly\” except for the mysterious large bone spur that was on my coccyx on the first MRI but not on the second. But none of this, as it turns out, has any correlation with the pain in my ass. None at all. Because they were looking in the wrong fucking place.
Chiropractors, orthopedists, internists, rheumatologists, physical therapists, massage therapists — they\’re all trained to know about the concept of referred pain. Back pain is the leading cause of pain in America, and back pain is most often referred pain. This means that the place of injury is not always the place that hurts. No doctor I saw (until now) thought to think that the place that hurts on me wasn\’t actually the place that was injured. No doctor thought to get a test run on the lumbar region of my spine.
The pain in my ass? When I applied for long term disability years ago, I put down piriformis muscle syndrome and sciatica as two of my troubles. No doctor had officially called it that yet, but I was certain that\’s what it was, because that\’s where it hurt. In the past year, every doctor I\’ve seen has said, yes, most certainly you have those, and the pain is coming from that — but they were unable to tell me what had caused and was continuing to exacerbate the piriformis and the sciatic nerve. Then I was told by my current doctor that I needed an MRI of my lumbar.
I have a goddammn herniated disc. FOR FIVE YEARS, I have had a herniated disc in my back. And every doctor has missed it. I wonder how they would all feel to miss five years of their lives.
Because I\’ve had years of chiropracty, physical therapy, and cortisone injections already, they\’re going to operate. So now I\’ve got two operations coming up. This is seriously problematic, but that\’s another post to come.
A very merry unbirthday, to me! I\’ll be gettin\’ drunk tonight. It\’s the only thing that puts out the fire in my ass. I understand entirely why so many of my relatives are or were alcoholics — they were all the ones in the family that had sustained injuries, botched surgeries, been shot at, and whatnot in their lives. Alcohol works faster than opiates, doesn\’t require a prescription, and is much more socially acceptable. But in, say, a year from now, when the doctors will be done cutting up my body and my knee will have stopped dislocating and my ass will no longer be on fire, then the self-medicating and the doctor\’s doping and all that will finally be OVER and I can get on with my goddamn life. (Which is kind of a scary thought. This actually going to get fixed? Holy shit! Now what do I do with myself?!)
