27 April 2006
What a difference six years (and a different city) makes.
Six years ago I had to beg, plead and fight for every scrap of treatment and help I needed, and even then it was a struggle.
Six weeks ago I was waiting to see my GP, psyching myself up for a similar fight.
Six weeks on, I'm very glad that I haven't had to fight that particular fight, but I'm still a bit thrown by that fact.
I've spent so much of my life fighting for things...
Fighting to be allowed to sit certain exams because lost paperwork was going to put me at a disadvantage due to the streaming system... fighting (against my own body) to be able to go to school at all... fighting for explanations and diagnosis... fighting against accusations of hypochondria... fighting to be taken seriously (whether by doctors because of my condition or by people I was working with and for because of my age)... fighting against ageism for equal pay (and I quote "you might be doing the same job, but you're still young[er than my colleagues] and you've got time to earn more money" as an excuse for paying me 8% less for the same job)... fighting for a few simple things that at the time would have dramatically increased my quality of life... fighting to make sure that stuff gets done right, beause there's no excuse not to...
Fight. Fight. Fight.
I fight because, overwhelmingly, my experience has taught me that nothing in this life is handed to you on a plate, and because if it looks like it's being handed to you on a plate, there's often something very wrong with it.
So it was with absolute amazement (and some trepidation), that saw me leaving my GP's surgery a week after it all started to go wrong, with a prescription in hand for desperately needed pain medication and an immediate referral to a walk-in Physiotherapy Clinic only a short distance away. All without having to beg, plead, or fight.
To be able to walk in there, explain the situation (genetic condition, bit random, having a really bad patch, need some help to get out the other side) and have the GP immediately understand my anxiety and frustration at the situation and simply ask what help I thought I needed, listen when I explained why I need that particular drug and suggest immediate referral (as in, go there right now) to the Physiotherapy clinic was, to be honest, nothing short of miraculous... and the miracle didn't stop there.
I went to the clinic, was seen within half an hour, and was given some very useful information on ways I could help manage the pain in the short term, and some gentle exercises, intended to help get my hands (being the most urgent bit of what was wrong) moving again. Simple, practical advice. Nothing complex. No rubbishing of my condition and what I was going through, just exactly what I needed, when I needed it - no begging, pleading or fighting.
In the intervening time, I've been seeing a physiotherapist on a weekly basis, and things are improving overall. I'm not even close to being 100%, but things are better than they were, and what's even better is that rather than treatment being called off when the immediate crisis seems to be averted, they've put in place a plan that will allow me to work (safely, and with the right guidance) to get myself to a state where I'm a lot fitter than I was, and have a lot more in reserve, so that the potential for future wobbles (and their resultant severity) is reduced.
The first part of that plan started today - the first session of an eight week course on managing pain. It's designed to give attendees the tools and techniques to be able to manage their own pain, whatever form it takes. Part of it involves learning about the central nervous system and how it interprets pain and the various factors that have an impact on that. Part of it involves gentle (!) exercise, which will be built up over the duration of the course and beyond, and part of it involves relaxation.
The first bit I have pretty much covered. We got a booklet to read before being confirmed on the course, and it pretty much confirmed what I'd figured out for myself about how pain works.
The second bit, well, I know it was the first day and it was designed to be a benchmark, but I was disappointed in how difficult and painful I found a lot of it. I knew it was going to be difficult. I knew it was going to hurt a bit. I knew I was going to be sore tonight (and tomorrow will be a laugh too...), but I was a bit surprised by just how much.
The third bit?
Well, I was glad that somene didn't pay attention to the signs telling us to switch off our mobiles before entering the gym - otherwise I may have embarrassed myself by snoring and drooling during the relaxation part of the class.
Yup, that's right. Guided relaxation and I fell asleep. Oh the shame.
In my defence, I was absolutely shattered - and it's nowhere near as embarrassing as the guy who let out the biggest fart I've heard in my life during a Pilates class I attended a few years ago.
So, one class down, seven to go...
... I really hope that they start to get easier as promised by the physio leading the class, because this kind of pain has got to come with a reasonable gain, otherwise there's no point in putting myself through this.
What an encouraging post.
Well done you for speaking up clearly about what you needed from the GP.
It's a wise medic who accepts that patients with a chronic condition know more about their own body than most GP's and some Consultants.
Glad you got such quick service from the Physio Dept.
Onwards and upwards, eh?
You know I don't normally do PDAs but have a hug in escrow until I see you in person.
Oh good, I'm glad it's working out, and easing up for you.
and, of course, >hugs
Oh yeah, and congratulations on finding that rarity, a decent GP!
hurrah
wow! What a fantastic GP you have there!
It all sounds so very positive for the long term. Well done you for fighting to get it.
All such good news (apart from the pain part, of course). Failure to be taken seriously when you have a problem is immensely frustrating. The relief that comes when you finally encounter someone more enlightened than others is immeasurable. I hope things go well.
Wonderful to hear that you didn't have to fight for this.
Just sometimes life is good to us and throws us just what we need when we need it.
Take very good care of yourself.
Love Sue xx
A close friend of mine has had similar 'issues' with doctors in the past. From the patronising son of a bitch who put her problems down to "women's stuff" (yes he actually said that as he ushered her out of the door) she recently found a new doctor who took one look at all the pills and potions she was prescribed and said "well no wonder you're all messed up!".
Glad that the other side seems closer now.
... the online home and (not very) alter(ed)-ego of Ann McMeekin, a recently freelance Web Accessibility Consultant.
... passionate about many things, most of which will turn up on this site at some time or other.
... contactable via email.
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