Sad, angry, and well other things too

Sad, angry, and well other things too

This week is a killer of a week. With the exception of yesterday, I have no days off. Monday I saw my PCP and other than sending me back to PT, he didn’t have any answers as to why I have a golf ball right on my arch near my heel. One of my friends called it a baseball when it was really flared up. I sent the picture to my PCP, which yielded a I don’t know see someone else. We talked about cortisone shots but I don’t want it. I believe it weakens tissue rather than help it. I asked about taking ibuprofen and this is when I knew he was an idiot because he said steroids aren’t usually helpful. UM, last I checked, ibuprofen is classed as a non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drug. And he went to med school. Moron.

I had a hard time sleeping Monday night so I slept all day yesterday. I was going to bake cookies but slept too late as I woke up around 5 pm. I wanted to go back to sleep before the sleepiness wore off but pain prevented that. My feet were giving me trouble. I couldn’t put one foot on top of the other. The bottom of my foot was inflamed. So I put some diclofenac gel on it. It took a few points off the pain enough for me to go to sleep. I was going to put some on before I left the house but fuck. People kept calling me and shit and the next thing I knew I had to leave the house. I luckily had my coffee in my mug. It was bloody freezing. I had to wear my gloves after I finished my coffee. The wind chill was terrible. I thought I was dressed warm enough but I wasn’t. The wind was going through me. I was frozen by the time I got to the train station. I didn’t go to Starbucks because I already had my coffee. I just sat on one of the benches while waiting for the train. I wrote in my journal as I had some time to kill.

I told my therapist about how my mood has been up and down and he said that I am angry. Fuck. Really, Freud? He didn’t understand why I said that. I explained Freud theory to a therapist. How bloody wonder. If I could have thought of another therapist, I would have thrown in their names for good measure but none came to mind. I was getting annoyed and wanted the damn session to end. My feet were hurting me and I just wanted to get home. It was colder than it was on the way home. Friday is supposed to snow so I plan on wearing my warmer jacket. I have to remember to wear a lightweight shirt otherwise I will sweat to death. I see my psychiatrist, who changed the appointment time to 4 pm. I don’t know when it is going to start snowing but that isn’t a good time to be out as it is rush hour, which means no seats on the trains and buses. Even with my cane, people won’t give up their seat unless you ask them. So rude. I will give up my seat to someone who is in need even if it will hurt me later on. These young people just don’t care. I remember a time when two young ladies nearly pushed me out of the way when the train doors opened so they could get a seat. Like WTF, seriously?? I had my cane with me. I am not one for confrontation but it is just fucking rude.

Saturday I know I am going to be sleeping all day. I honestly have no idea when I am going to make these damn cookies. My therapist says there is no time limit on baking so I if I want to bake them at 6 pm, I can do it. I didn’t tell him I hate clean up and usually I hurt too much after I bake to clean up. And my mother will have a coronary if I leave them for her to wash. God forbid there should be anything in the sink when she goes to bed. I am hurting so much right now. I took another breakthrough med. I hope that is the only one I need. I have used so many this month. I am trying to hold off but with the way my appointments are this week, I don’t think I can do that. It really sucks that my pain is worse at night than during the day. I hate it.

any thoughts?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s