CW: medical/trans drama, suicidal ideation, dysphoria, panic attacks
Thank you for your nudges, likes and messages since my last update.
I had hoped to come back with great news but alas, I cannot.
The Zoladex, after ramping to a critical mass of hormones, ended up working. The migraines faded, as did the pain, and the gynaecologist admitted to having delayed my hysterectomy and I was given a date. This came with a warning -that on the day I would have to fight for it. Instead, I needed to fight -not- to have it, and I failed dramatically. And, now, kinda dying? Maybe.
Continue reading make. it. stop.
CN: disability as inspiration, car drama
I have been babying my car for a while now – no extra trips, no long trips, no diversions, no resting on the side of the road until the pain subsides. The reason? It hasn’t been serviced in a while. It’s, technically, not even my car, and technically, my parents are responsible for upkeep and servicing, and this is part of our complex deal where I get to live in a house and not the street and in exchange have to do random things like let them know where I am at all times, half their shopping, and filter media. I am not, technically, homeless, so I don’t do anything to upset this.
So when I went to my mum and said ‘the car needs servicing’ and I had to wait until there was money, and wait until they came up so the (male) mechanics could talk to my (male) dad instead of me, with a side of “but you can’t talk how could you do it yourself anyway”, I waited.
Until today, when I was on my way home from a blood test, feeling very wrong (and the way I was treated there could be a post of its own…), I went over roadworks (I had forgotten to avoid them), and the car started making a sound that wasn’t normal, even for this car, because that conversation was two years ago.
Continue reading Broken Down…
CN: gender-related medical stuffs, codeine drama, pain, discrimination, medical ick, brief mention of suicidal ideation
Did you know it’s possible to be in so much pain that you forget to take pain meds? To forget they even exist, that there’s a way to make it not all-consumingly awful?
I didn’t. Now, this is me, we’re talking about. I refused anaesthesia for my last surgical procedure, twice, and the thought of taking it was highly amusing. The one before, I insisted on only using a local, and that for reasons of muscle relaxing only and, because I wasn’t allowed to type in the OR, and they didn’t ask the right question, I went through that without the local actually having an effect. (Try saying ‘it’s not a sharp pain, it’s an I-can-feel-the-needle-on-my-bone-and-that’s-not-normal-pain in sign with your bad arm being held, dislocated, above your head and the other arm covered by a blanket and held down and stroked for “comfort because you’re so brave, don’t you like being touched?”. Yeah. That’s about right.) This pain was no greater than my normal pain. After my appendectomy I was able to drive and function within three days, and the nurses controlled my pain meds because I was just like ‘but it doesn’t hurt more’. I can’t tell you what my “worst” piercing was because they don’t bother me. If I am complaining about pain it is black-out-in-the-toilet-after-throwing-up pain. The stuff I used to be able to get up to is more extreme than any of the fics I’ve written, and I used to be unmatchable because nobody else read ‘dark’ as anything other than ‘mild angst’.
So this morning, I was knitting and watching TV, and I looked at the clock and was like it has been three hours I can’t take my meds yet. Continue reading Escalations and Revelations
CN: sexism, rape, judicial process
This is what goes through my mind, what I viscerally experience, every time the ‘but women lie/what about the innocent men/false accusations!!’ thing comes up. Every time. On Facebook, in the news, in random comments on non-news-sites.
Continue reading Let Me Tell You About A Thing
cn: ptss, chronic pain, gender stuff (inc. references to surgery)
I had an appointment with previous-doctor last week. He somehow got hold of my test results, and despite trumpeting himself as a super-duper in-demand expert, said “well you have reasons to feel like crap”, “that doesn’t make sense you’re not fat and you don’t drink”, and walked out. He likes to walk out when he’s done talking and talk over me typing so I don’t get to actually ask questions. So I followed him out, signed the Medicare form, and the receptionist didn’t ask if I needed a new appointment so I didn’t make one.
Apart from that, I haven’t left the house in two weeks. I only just, two days ago, convinced myself to do the washing and wash the clothes I wore to the test. I didn’t check my email for over a week and I still have some that I can’t make myself read.
This would be a classic PTSS episode, but for one thing. I don’t know if it was the test that triggered it or not.
Continue reading PTS*
CN: moar codeine drama, discrimination, mentions of suicidal ideation, discussion of gendered medical issues
I have to admit that I have been procrastinating about finding a new doctor. Well, for the first week it was just not in my power. Last week I had to prioritise the gynaecologist. This week is my first chance to actually go and put myself in front of someone and say ‘halp’ and in all likelihood get knocked back.
The gynaecologist last week did not go well. It was forty minutes of questions where I wasn’t allowed to finish my answers (like seriously, I would type half of it, “i can’t read it”, I would fix it, then next question even though like I’d said half a sentence and was not done) before I even had a chance to pass over my letter that I’d written in advance…
… You know what, I was telling someone about this once, and they were like “you know, you should write a letter and take it to them!” and I was like “seriously, really? i already did that.” And you know? It still doesn’t work. …
Continue reading so stressed i forgot to make a title
CN: moar codeine drama; gender-nonconformi-ness and medical care, mention of genital-related medical issues
I saw a different doctor at the same practice. He was nice, apart from two things
- the guilt trip and ‘you know the risks’ talk, when by now if they really think I don’t know that medications have risks, they should be sending me for a capacity assessment…
- ‘she’ and ‘Miss’
Continue reading Risk