Anger and pain

Lately it seems that my body lives in this place called Pain.   Sometimes I get to take a walk away from it, and revisit the place I used to live, the Random Aches and Ouchies place, where once in a while a hurt would happen, and a bruise would appear, and then it would be done in an hour or so.   Sometimes I get to spend there, or even a few days.  But I dare not think I’ll be allowed to move it again.  If that thought crosses my mind, I’m slammed back into Pain within minutes.  

I’m very tired of this place.   I’m tired of tears, of heating pads, of Bio-freeze and wondering which bra to wear.   I’m tired of being an invalid – I AM valid, I am worthy, I am not ready to sit down and let the world pass me by while I rock in my chair with my hot water bottle pressed to my chest, reading about gardens, and dreaming of a walk with the dog.   

I’m angry.  I realized today that I’m not just angry, I’m furious.  I’m furious with the stress that others have brought into my life (a certain student comes to mind) that adds to my pain, that makes me crazy and makes me hurt.  I’m angry with doctors who dismiss my affliction as “it won’t last, it’s not chronic, just take a pill!”  I’m angry that I have to consider surgery – and I’ll be angrier if the surgery is denied, as I expect it will be.   

And being angry has moved me out of Pain and into PIssed Off.  I think I’ll stay here for a bit, because it’s much more fun for me than that other place.  

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