At the beginning of my ‘chronic pain journey’, I tried to stay positive and would never wish this on anyone else.
After 10 years of intense suffering, being told I’m faking or an addict, doctors who don’t care or openly mock me – I hope that every single one of them gets to live with the joys of CRPS. I’ve lost my career, family, friends, pretty much everything. Oh and when they beg for relief, I want to laugh in their face, the way so many have done to me. I want them to know that there is something that could ease their suffering, help them have a life, get a job (escape horrific poverty), but they aren’t worthy of it.
I hate the person pain has made me become.
I can so relate to this comment — losing everything and ending up isolated and encased in a bubble of unrelieved pain. Seems only fair that all of the opioid-war advocates should also have to suffer at some point.
Revenge would be sweet, when so much of life is not. Do I believe in revenge? Isn’t that how wars are started?
Lately, it seems like every time I interact with the public, I lose my temper. Yesterday, I actually got out of my car in the Walgreens parking lot to angrily address a couple of women who were rude to me. It appears my fear of guns was not strong enough to overcome my anger. Because you never know who’s carrying a gun in this country, especially a woman who would throw the f-word at a stranger (me).
I caused a scene in the Walgreens parking lot. I’ve never done that before. At first, I was just angry. Then, embarrassed. Now, I can’t help but laugh at myself. (Thank you, Bud Fairy.)
The scene of this crime occurred after I had waited in line for a long time at the pharmacy, just so I could have the privilege of buying my allergy medicine (which I have to do every 10 days, regardless of the weather or my pain levels).
However, the woman behind the Walgreens pharmacy counter was very nice, apologizing for keeping me waiting. I’m like, sorry, if my foot didn’t hurt so much, I wouldn’t be acting so irritated. I told her they needed more pharmacy staff and she said that wasn’t happening. She told me that the latest from corporate was how they wanted the pharmacy staff to open the locked restroom door for customers. She’s like, we’re too busy to handle additional responsibilities.
Seems like the answer would be to keep the restroom doors unlocked. But what do I know.
After Walgreens, I had to go to a specific grocery store for items I can’t get anywhere else. And guess what? The store didn’t have 2 out of the 4 items I needed. I get up to the register (after waiting in another long line) and it turns out I can’t buy the Dr. Pepper on sale unless I spend $25. (I should’ve known the special was too good to be true.) I’m like, if ya’ll weren’t out of these other items, I would’ve spent that much. Then I said, thanks anyway, left my cart blocking the customer behind me, and walked out of the store. (Can you feel my foot throbbing?)
Is this me being rude or my pain? And aren’t they one and the same?
So, I went to the same grocery store chain at a different location. And guess what? They actually had everything I needed. And the cashier was nice. We talked about how we both dislike coffee.
The purpose of this rant is to agree with Morgan’s comment: Sometimes I hate the person pain has made me become. Even though I knew that my irritation, anger, and impatience were due to pain, I couldn’t get past it. It felt like I wanted everyone else to feel the pain I was feeling. Because it’s so unfair that I no longer have access to adequate, affordable, and consistent pain relief, even for a broken foot.
As I was driving away from Walgreens, all I could think about was what I wished I had said to those rude women. I called one of the women “unfriendly” for dropping the f-bomb, when I really wanted to call both of them “white trash.” I’m not sure if that’s me talking or the pain.
Funny thing is, I was going to apologize for getting in their way (when the opposite was true), but their reactions were so freaking rude, I’m like, okay, now it’s on, dude…
The End. 🙂