Nobody Knows…

Nobody knows…

Today was a horrific day. I spent the morning at the hospital with my dad, having his testing done. Apparently they found something and it had to get checked out. Like today. Not tomorrow or next week. Today! I was so pissed. But luckily, I was able to squeeze in my therapy appointment, though we again just talked about how my father takes up so much of my time and that it is not appreciated, at all. And I still got to finagle getting medical records from one hospital to another. I don’t know how I am going to do this, as I know my father needs to sign his release form. I can’t do it. It’s not my records. Which means I got to drag him to get the forms released. And I have a week to do this. Talk about pressure. But I think I can talk my sister into it. He has another lovely appointment on Tuesday and I don’t have to be apart of it. I just get to hear about it.

I had about a half hour before I had to go to South Station to meet up with my friends for dinner. It was a race to the bathroom soon as I got off the bus. Both bowels and bladder decided they were going to race me to the bathroom. I lost, they won, though I didn’t realize it. I thought I had just peed myself but the second race on the way home proved that I was wrong. I changed my underwear, washed up, and now I am typing this blog because no one will fucking care that I crapped and peed my pants. The only ones that will understand are those that suffer from CES, or some other neurological condition that affects the bowels and bladder. I think MS might affect both, but I am not sure.

Nobody understands what I go through on a daily basis. No one stops and thinks that I am disabled. No one enters their mind that I might be in too much pain today to do something. Nope, they just want ALL of me there, right now, right away. Even my therapist doesn’t get it. She could have cancelled the appointment today but instead she kept it. It would have been a weight off my mind so that I didn’t have finagle the bagel to find a spot to talk to my therapist, and then keep my voice low so that people are not hearing what I am saying. I don’t know what I wanted to talk about with my therapist but I know I didn’t want to talk about my father and how he is making me lose spoons I don’t have.

I should have canceled my dinner plans but I am stubborn and I wanted to see my friends’ kids. I haven’t seen them since January. Now I am hurting and frankly, I don’t care. I am not doing a damn thing tomorrow except to eat my fettucine alfredo with butternut squash and chicken. I also have bruchetta and garlic breadsticks. I will have a good lunch tomorrow. And besides, if I didn’t go out, I would have missed the free pasta and tomato sauce they were giving out when you exited the train station. My mother is going to like that, the pasta anyway. A free box of 32 oz. will last us a good while.

But nobody knows that I lost all my spoons today and more that I cannot reclaim. I am in the negative and even though tomorrow I might be eating a good meal, I won’t be able to do much else. Which further adds to my depression. Nobody will know that I messed my pants. Nobody will know that on the way home, I almost couldn’t make the last block. My leg just had enough. But like everything else in my life, everything gets dumped on me when I can barely lift it. I am just so tired of it all. I am tired of crapping and peeing my pants. I am sick that I have to wear diapers if I want to go out of the house for more than 4 hours. And I don’t know where I am going to the money for diapers. It’s not in my budget. I still have two medications I need and I don’t know where I am going to get the money for them.

Nobody cares that my blog can be crap at times, that my writing is just isn’t good enough (by my standards). I am just sick of all the running around and not being appreciated for it. I am sick of being in horrible pain and not having a rest day in between. I am sick of being in pain, period! And nobody cares.