Today

I’m on day two of a migraine or headache of whatever type. Hurts between the eyes, in my right temple, and in my neck. Wonky R eye and sleepy L arm.

Today I bumped my head on my pantry trying to retrieve sauce that was at elbow height and required no bending to reach. And, at last count I have no less than seven white bumps on my tongue where I’ve bitten it over the past few days. That’s painful.

Hips/SI/ low back pain, with pain with walking.

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Them Changes

Well, my attempts at being less anxious is a phenomenal fail. I tried to break my frozen silence, but the truth is exactly what I feared. my doc was only seeing the anxiety.

So I switched to a new provider. One who listened and asked questions. One who seemed interested in actually helping me get better. But then the previous doc scolded her for giving me hope, and a possibility. I went in anxious, and that was all that came out of the appointment.

They aren’t going to treat me for anything but anxiety. None of my concerns are taken seriously. I really am spinning my wheels, and only working myself up enough to prove them right.

They want me to make peace with the idea that nobody will ever know what’s going on with me, and that there is no treatment or cure. Which has nothing to do with their lack of investigation or give-a-damn.

It’s not necessary to keep track of symptoms, and reporting over MyChart is treated the same as pestering, not as my utilizing a resource to bypass my anxiety to communicate effectively.

I give up. That’s my treatment plan. Suck it up. They don’t want to hear about it. If I rattle off symptoms, I’m anxious. If I learn for myself, I’m self-diagnosing. There is literally nothing I can do.

Worried you’re not being listened to? Anxiety. Feel hopeless because nobody’s helping? Depression. Even to throw away all emotion and reach apathy would be treated like a mental illness.

It’s the establishment equivalent of, “You’re not bleeding, you’re fine.”

So there it is. I’m fine.

Ta-Dah.