Four more hours today devoted to seeing the orthopedist. Full MRIs reports are back. Results: deteriorating spine, particularly in the lower lumbar. In my ass. My ass is deteriorating. Let that be a lesson to those of you who either like to spank or be spanked: no good may come out of this.
Doc says it is most likely from five plus years spent training as a gymnast from the age of three on, exacerbated by everything else I have done with various lifestyle choices. Again, the phrase \”this would be normal for a body of my age (60s) but not for someone of your age.\” Comforting. Thanks.
Right now it is only \”mild\” deterioration. If this is what it feels like mild, I do not want to feel it as severe.
Rage tastes like gin five hours after the binge. No amount of spitting or flushing rids of the taste. Nothing can dull it. The only relief is to endulge in a fresh, purifying dose, and keep it coming at regular intervals.
Fourteen months ago my friends and I went out to dinner to celebrate my long fought battle to receive Medicaid. The plan, according to my doctors at the time and my case worker, was to have everything \”figured out\” within a year and to have me self sufficient and working within a year\’s time. Instead, every few months I gain yet another diagnosis, lose more hope, and have more shit thrown in my face from the system that is supposed to be helping me.
Everybody thinks I am this strong, independent, fighter of a woman, but I am not. Here I am, still waiting for someone or something to come and help me get out of this mess, which only seems to get more fucked up with every passing month. The only difference between me four years ago and me now is that I no longer ask for help and wait around for it to be provided. Supposedly that is what has made me a bad ass. If I am so bad ass, then why I do I feel so weak and defeated all the time?