Yesterday I went to the hospital. I was having a bad flare up, and after two Oxycodone, I knew my meds weren’t working. There was a horrible pain all across my belly, and it felt like I was getting stabbed honestly in waves. I’ve come quite accustomed to going to the E.R., which is a shame, but that’s how it is. On average for the past couple of months I’ve gone to the E.R. At least twice a month; Sometimes more. Every time I went, they would take copious amounts of blood, sometimes X-rays or Cat-scans (Which is not good for a young body), and lots of waiting time. I had read a post on Pintrest of a lady who had Fibromyalgia as well, and she recommended getting a letter from your doctor explaining your condition. This is the first visit I used my letter for, and all it wrote was that I have Fibromyalgia, I’m waiting to work with pain management, and sometimes I need to visit the E.R. for morphine injections. The place was packed, so we sat in the waiting room for about an hour and a half, but it felt longer. When I finally got into triage, I gave the nurse my letter first and she was quite sympathetic. She asked minimal questions, and was soft spoken, but kind. If you are not familar with the E.R., after Triage, they usually get you into a room with a bed, however, I was wheeled back into the waiting room for more…waiting.
Finally when I got into my room (Which was the empty and creepy Psych room because they were running out of room..) My boyfriend helped me on the bed as I rolled over exhausted from moaning in pain. I held my stuffed dragon tight and stayed patient. The doctor came in and I handed him the letter, which wound up helping him understand a little. Soon after he disappeared for a bit, he ordered my Morphine shot.
I had two nurses come in, the first one smelled like vanilla and was taking my blood pressure. The second nurse had the needle and asked me where I wanted it. (I answered my hip, it’s the most comfortable spot other than your tush) She held up the needle and pressed the air out, and this is when she said it to me..”Honey, you’ve got to find something that works, because this..” she gestured at the needle, “..is a lot.” I nodded. Now, why the hell did I nod at the rude statement? Well first off, the reason that sentence is cruel is because I have chronic pain. I’m 19 years old. I’ve been dealing with this pain for years. I’ve had parts of my childhood stolen from me because I’ve spent so much of it on sick days and in hospitals. If I had a better solution to my flare ups I would’ve used it, but it’s out of my control, it’s in my doctors hands. The reason I didn’t reply in anger is because people like that nurse will never understand what it’s like to be me. I’ve broken legs before, and it doesn’t depress me because I know those legs are going to heal, but my Fibromyalgia will not. My father will probably never know the full list of medications I take, because I know he can’t process what it’s like. Most people will not, and that’s why it’s important to know that there is no way to make people understand your Chronic pain. Reach out on forums, blogs, youtube, pintrest and this even this blog to find people that understand what you are going through. Don’t waist your energy and anger on those who cannot.