A very specific bitchfest

I tend to have a lot of patience for people who are ill, or who are having health problems in their lives, because I am so often ill myself. But a lot of patience only goes so far.

I've been reading through various blogs and pondering a few things lately, and the only conclusion I can come to is this. Some people bitch entirely too much about things that they *know* will in some way be resolved. I'm really sorry, truly I am, that there's a problem, and that they have to deal with a battery of doctors to deal with said issue. Been there, done that. Doctors are a pain in the ass, no doubt about it. But all in all, they do the best they can, and at least *yours* are telling you that in the end, you'll be a functioning fucking human being.

And granted, I'm a functioning human being as well. Sort of. Unless I'm having a "bad" day. At which point, I'm completely screwed. I can't hang out, I can't go do whatever I might feel like doing that day in spite of my problem. I am completely out of circulation, and most likely passed out from the massive dosage of medication I take to solve the problem. I don't get to hobble around, and I don't get to bitch that it hurts. Because it *always* hurts. Most of the time, I simply push it aside, but when it's a "bad" day, that isn't even an option. Bed and unconsciousness are the only one. I take around a thousand dollars of medications and painkillers a month, every month, whether I want to or not. And this is something I know that I'll be doing for the rest of my life. My immune system is so far gone that I get pnuemonia, where everyone else picks up a common cold. I have migraines that have caused me to slam my head into walls to deal with *that* pain, instead of the pain inside my skull. And on certain days, the neurons in my brain misfire and leave me an incoherent, unspeaking, frustrated person, with no options except writing or typing as communication.

A dislocated hip, two herniated discs at the end of my spine, and I use painkillers to function in spite of them. Brain cancer, which I get tested every three months with MRI's for, every three months, for the rest of my life. Just waiting for the one I know will come back positive, meaning going back in for *another* wide-awake open cranioitomy, because that's what it'll take to keep me alive. I have been diagnosed with lupus, fibromyalgia, and arthritis, to go with the cancer and the back and hip problems. And none of these are cureable. NONE OF THEM.

So take heed when you sit and bitch to me about how much it hurts, or how lousy you're feeling, or how frustrated you are with doctors and whatnot. At least your shit can be fixed, even if it doesn't leave you precisely the same way you were before you got sick or hurt. It won't leave you damaged physically, emotionally, and neurologically. Some of us don't have the option of just "waiting until it gets fixed". Keep that in mind the next time you're sitting around feeling sorry for yourself. You can walk, or hop, or wheel whenever you want to. You can think and speak and communicate at will. Be grateful.