Yes, we all know that drugs is a huge problem in this country. Millions of people die from overdoses because of drug abuse and that is a major concern. I have lost many people in my life because drug related overdoses and someone I love dearly was brought back by ER doctors twice, so I understand how horrible drugs can be. But for those of us who deal with chronic pain everyday we are the ones who are suffering. I don’t agree with doctors just handing out prescription after prescription. But that is one of just many problems. Those who need narcotics and other opioids are being denied because of other people’s mistakes. I tremble and shake with pain every single day because I am no longer allowed to be given pain medication that can help my chronic pain.
People are killing themselves from pain. If you have chronic pain or a chronic illness you may have, at least once, had that thought flash into your mind.
This is an absolute disgrace. There are pain sufferers who are willing to take drug tests, they are willing to go to pain management doctors, we are willing to do anything it takes so that we can get proper care to appease everyone else. But who is helping us? The doctor who outright said NO I can’t help you so he sends you to a pain management dr who also says NO. By the way that is their job…to help manage pain in a safe way. So instead people are killing themselves because they can’t function. Or maybe they themselves are now getting drugs illegally because that’s the option now.
Politicans are taking OUR choices away because of of something they don’t understand.
Someone needs to figure it out before the NEXT EPIDEMIC is suicide from lack of medical care.
When I was told I had endometriosis the word that was bounced around was infertility. Thirty to fifty percent of us who suffer from #endo will have trouble conceiving or not be able to. I was one of the women who could get pregnant without any fertility help. I have talked to many girls in their 20’s who are getting hysterectomies because their pain is so unbearable. Their doctors recommend to take everything out. Then there are those women who are in so much pain that even if there is a small chance of having a child, their suffering takes precedence over anything BUT are denied because they are told they are still within childbearing years. We also know that just because you do take your organs out, doesn’t mean endo isn’t hiding somewhere else. That does not include those women whose organs have been fused together by endometriosis which render them infertile (if found to have affected reproductive organs). In our society, a woman’s identity is almost always tied to having children. We get asked when we are getting married, then when are we having children. Then once we have a child, when are we having another one. We can’t even give birth yet without people asking when is the next one coming. The next one? Can we get the current one out first? After my third child, I got a tubal ligation and my husband got a vasectomy months prior to me giving birth. I had one nurse after my c section asks this famous question of when I’m having the next one. I told her I was done and she said to me that I say that now but I will surely change my mind. To which I replied back I was cut and burned and my husband had a vasectomy. Therefore no, we would not be having a fourth child. This woman kept telling me I would change my mind. And while I know there is a small percentage of women who can still get pregnant after both were surgically sterilized, my insistence of not having another one kept flying past her. Was she seriously getting into an argument with me about having another child? The one I was holding was barely 12 hours old and already I was being told my mind would be changed by somebody else.
Women are also construed as selfish if we chose not to have kids. What about the women who can’t? I have been made to feel guilty for having kids by a few people. How about women who have no desire to become mothers? They are told they are selfish. Do people say what is wrong with a woman who doesn’t want to have a child? We are made to feel guilty no matter what our choices. We already have the world on our shoulders without having to have extra stress about our bodies which is nobody’s business but our own. Financially it is a nightmare for many of us. We make too little to support a family even when are working. The government says we make plenty. We go and get assistance and we are deemed as lazy or unfit because we need help. So many of us wait until we are older which causes complications for our own bodies and the children we carry. Why are we made to look terrible if we ask for help? If there is an income flowing in and out of my house I should not have to be questioned if there is anything I need assistance with like rent or health insurance.
I do not like when people make assumptions about me or my situations. In fact, you don’t even have to make assumptions you can ask me. If there something I choose not to share it’s quite simple I just won’t. But myself, like many of you, do not like it when people just assume about my situation without knowing all the facts. You need to do what is good for you, not listen to your mother law beg for a grandkid or people who are convinced to pray for a miracle. Your suffering means something. You shouldn’t feel guilty for being confused or angry about all this. You have the right to sob endlessly about the choices you face. The point is not to let anyone convince you they know better. Be strong warrior. You got this.
It has been a while since I wrote poetry. People who don’t suffer from #chronicpain or #endometriosis or anything mental or physical don’t really understand how it feels. I can only express it through words.
#Halloween and #DayoftheDead have passed but I still feel a bit…#witchy
I currently wrote about how the moon may affect our Cycles as women. If you are like me then everything in that infinite sky above us fascinates you. Especially that large, white orb that is nestled in the velvety blackness. Can the moon tell our bodies what to do and how to feel? I always felt a connection with my #endometriosis. Every time I would feel crippled with pain, that moon would be shining bright in through the window. Can the lunar cycle be tied with our own? Do we become more creative, desirable, or even tired depending on what phase the Moon is in? Perhaps the next time the moon is out stop and think about how you feel. You never know what you may turn into.
The writers of the Broadway musical Rent got it right… We often measure our lives with time or crossing days off our calendars which let’s face it…can be extremely satisfying. When I write I often use spoons for amount of words I use. Sometimes writing to me consists of accomplishments I can do during the day due to my chronic illness endometriosis . I find myself struggling through the millions of words that can be rearranged in ways that educate or emotionally touch people . But I think we can all use some sort of gauge to mark the goals in our day and lives. My little stainless steel spoons mark a hundred words. The rubber-tipped chewed up spoons my children have used, I use for every 200 words. It’s easier for me to have a visual on my writing or even dealing tasks during the day. (If there is ever a time you struggle with writing I do recommend finding something to mark a specific amount of words for you pennies, pens, seashells etc), unless this adds extra stress to your situation then by all means don’t worry about it!)
For those who don’t know there are people with chronic illness such as endo, lupus, PCOS, aka “spoonies“. As a child I began a collection of little spoons in addition to tea sets. There was always something about usable tiny tea sets that I loved. Now I have a variety of large mugs I drink my beverages out of like coffee or Moscato. However, I still hold on to my little spoons. They have come in handy for more than just stirring tea in my tiny teacups.
Your day and your life are what you make of it. There are some people who walk around throwing time to the wind all willy-nilly. And good for them, I wish I could live my life that way. But I will remain true to my little spoons, marking the days off my calendar in thick black Sharpie. Perhaps it is a hint of my anxiety makes me mark specific tasks off because, by no means am I organized. I also find the dozens of brightly colored post-its stuck to every possible surface. Whatever helps you remember things or assist you with your own writing is all that matters.