Good Morning! This morning, for the first time in a long time, I woke up feeling quite hopeful that my chronic hip pain is going to get better. I finally broke down and went to the Dr. yesterday. This all started last week when I was having the worst pain I have had with this stupid hip and my Mom called. Now, I don't know about you all, but when Mom calls and I'm having a hard time, it is pert near impossible to hide it. She asked if I was okay and I completely lost it; I was bawling so hard it took me a couple of times to tell her about my pain before she could understand me.
You see, I have had this pain for a long time, I knew it had been at least a year. It is pain that is sometimes debilitating; I have even moved my morning Coke down to the basement fridge because I can't even get up the stairs until my pain medicine takes effect. Not a life I would choose to lead, being on narcotic pain medicine most of the time, just to get through my daily tasks. Thanks to an uncaring doctor who called any attempt I made for alternative medicine (since she could not find an answer) to help this problem "Quackery", I have not been back to see any Dr. since. That is the same doc that has refilled my pain medicine, without ever contacting me for two years.
That's right, you read that right; I have been suffering in silence from this pain for over two years. When the doctor that my parents insisted I go see yesterday told me that the last work up for this hip pain was in December 2007, I was shocked, and more than a little embarrassed.
I suffer from the "Gotta Do Everything Myself Syndrome" and feeling that my poor health equals weakness. That's really funny because as I write that it is quite offensive, I would never look at someone other than myself and expect them to live up to such unattainable and unfair standards. I think that many women, especially moms, end up taking care of everyone but themselves until we break down; for me it is usually a physical breakdown that leads to a mental meltdown. It's downright crazy.
Actually, it is called being a martyr. That word kept popping into my head ever since I went to the doctor yesterday; so I decided to consult with my favorite antique dictionary. After a few lines of symbols that I don't understand telling me how it fits in the English language and how to pronounce it, etc.; this is the definition:
1) A person who chooses to suffer or die for his faith or his principles.
2) A person who suffers great pain or misery for a long time.
3) A person who assumes an attitude of self sacrifice or suffering in order to arouse feelings of pity, guilt, etc. in others.
So, let's take this one at a time. First, I do have very strong faith and principles, but how am I supporting those principles if I am too sick to practice my faith? Secondly, yes I have suffered pain for a long time, but what the hell good does it do me if no one knows about it (I'm kidding of course), really it is laughable. Lastly, I would imagine that is how my family has felt. Pity that I never feel good and guilt for not doing more to help out.
So, with waiting so long to take action I have accomplished nothing. Although I would never want to be considered a martyr, that is what my actions were. Great, I have proven that I am tough enough to last through two years of pain; now I need to prove that I am tough enough to take care of business when it needs tending to.
I was still afraid of getting bad news, and I was still in pain, the only difference being that now I realize that I have wasted two years in toughing it out for no apparent reason. We hear it again and again as caretakers; we can't keep giving until we take care of ourselves. So let's really listen this time.
Make a miracle today (but make it for yourself!).