The start of last week I found myself stood in front of the walk-ins reception desk, politely frustrated. The receptionist, with her raised in exasperation eyebrows, questioning loudly my reason for being there. Yes it did sound ridiculous. Who attends a hospital for a dislocated jaw, then loses consciousness while inhaling penthrox and comes too no longer on the a&e trolley but face first on the floor with two nurses helping your brain fogged self back to bed; before swiftly relocating you and discharging you despite protests of I think I’m hurt. Then presents at the unit 3 days later complaining of pain. I get it I sound mad. In one final attempt to be taken seriously I lift my top up, lowering the left side of leggings and underwear, revealing the deep purple bruising that consumes the left side of my body.
I feel embarrassed and humiliated. To have had to expose my body in a packed waiting room so as to be taken seriously is maddening. However this is isn’t the first time and it won’t be the last. In that same visit I was criticized by drs and told my pain threshold must be low as my walking wasn’t bad enough for serious damage He soon ate those words. People forget that I live every day in pain, this happens even in situations like this where we’ve just discussed my conditions and the professional has glossed over my issues rather than accepting my offer to explain further. I wake up and relocate the joints that came out over night every morning. My baseline of daily pain is that of most healthy person’s A& E trip level.
Between my hip/leg damage, general nerve damage and nerve flare from my Botox I’m doing my best to pace and get through the day slowly. It’s tiring but worth it. So much awareness is still needed in this world.