Day 358

Can anyone say suck?  And I'm not talking about a tiny little suck.  I'm talking about a major suck, like through one of those little red coffee-stirrer things when you drinking a super thick milkshake.

Suck IT, is what I should say.

I have come to the realization today that I am not rational, cooperative, or even probably stable right now.  But then again I'm not that crazy about the people supposedly helping me either.

People I consider helpful:  my mom, my daughter, on certain days my husband, some of my friends, and my therapist.  And the nice bartender girl who works at the bar under my mom's office.  She makes me up weird cocktails and is nice to talk with.

People I currently consider unhelpful:  every freaking doctor I have working on my case, the pilates people who busted up my back and shoulder, some days my husband (although not very often), my dad (who can't help himself), my son (again, can't help himself), and some of my friends who think tough love is a good approach to curing fibro.

I know I'm a crabby bitch these days.  I'm even bitchy to myself.  Bitch, bitch, bitch.  I'm good at it.  What's worse is I feel entitled.  I hurt.  I am always hurting somewhere on my body.  There is literally never a day or a moment that some part of me doesn't hurt.  It just hurts in different levels on different days.

I saw my rheumatologist today, and within five minutes I had crossed my arms and was done talking.  Fortunately my mother was with me so she was able to carry on a decent conversation with the woman.  The doctor referred to me as not "buying in" to the treatment she's giving me, and that I've had symptoms for twenty five years, so they're not going to go away overnight.

Duh.

But it would help if one of these people who keeps telling me cymbalta would be helpful would say, oh, prescribe it.  It would be helpful if I didn't have to follow up on making appointments four hundred times and that I could just show up when they say so.

I've probably said it before, but I've considered voluntarily committing myself to a hospital for awhile.  I just don't trust that I'd get the care I would need.  And I'd be cut off from the people and things that ARE helping me--my family, my friends, blogging, writing, my therapist.  Law and Order Criminal Intent.

My rheumatologist is right in some aspects.  I do want to feel better.  I do want it to happen faster.  I am angry at the turtle speed people seem to be moving at.  And I do want medication that makes me feel better.  Honestly, there are some days I think the Nucynta helps some, but more that I don't feel a difference.  I go back to see the psychiatrist next week, and I'll be out of the medication way before then, so I guess I'll know whether it's working or not.

One of my friends talked about the importance of changing my attitude, and I thinks she's right.  It's hard, though, to have a positive outlook when you're in pain.  But I'll list three things here I'm thankful for and/or like.
1.  My kids and my family.  If it weren't for them, there wouldn't be any point.
2.  My dog.  Every day she makes me laugh or at the very least, smile.  She curls up with me, likes to play with her toys, and lives her life fully.  You can learn a lot from a dog.  I think there are books out there about it too.
3.  The garden behind our house.  It's a Japanese-style garden with a Pagoda in the middle of it.  It's very pretty and right off the river.  It makes a lovely place to walk and wander and just think.  I may try to do that one day.

So that makes three.  All I have in me today.  My back hurts and I'm so over the pain.  I may try to get in to see the pain management doctor sooner than when she has scheduled.

And that's all today, folks.