serafaery

In an ungodly amount of hip pain. Walking with a limp. Makes me kind of want to die.

I knew I shouldn't be jumping back into all of this activity (namely: skating) without guidance and help. But I was so enjoying skating, and just didn't have the money to pay for more PT. I'm still paying off the $300 I still owe (it was over $700 for the 9 visits I had).

My doctor hasn't responded to the referral request I put in on the 12th. I re-sent it again yesterday. I think I need to find a new doctor. This guy is too flaky. I had to wait two weeks last time, and there's no reason for it. All he has to do is fax it in and email me.

I thought I could go back to my old physical therapist in the meantime for some temporary help or possible relief, but it turns out referrals expire if you haven't seen someone in 60 days for the same condition. This is unfair and frustrating in a hundred ways. It's like the insurance companies are trying to make me suffer. They are actively trying to let my hip build up scar tissue until I'm crippled and have to go on disability because I can't walk anymore. That'll show you, for not continuing with therapy that you can't afford and wasn't correct for what you were trying to accomplish.

My HR rep lady suggested this little clinic up the road from our office, who are friendly and take our insurance. I might check it out, ask them if I can get a new General Practitioner that might actually respond to my requests and help me when I need it. It's a $20 copay to see a doctor just to meet and say hello and get a referral, but I need. help.

Got so worked up about healthcare problems in the shower that I ended up sobbing for quite some time.

At least I can still do hip stretches while sobbing.

I need to restructure my priorities.

I need to focus all of my extra energy on healing my hip.

It fucking sucks. It hurts. It hurts constantly. Thinking about doing strengthening exercises makes me cry.

But, I can't keep living this half-life, distracting myself with face painting and wings and stupid creative bullshit that doesn't mean anything while I'm dying inside because I can't skate or hike or live life the way I truly want to and should.

No more distractions. If I can't do my hip exercises, I can sit there and do nothing and think about how much I wish I could do other things. (Maybe I'll take up reading if I really can't/refuse to work out or stretch.) If it takes an hour of tears and tantrums to get me to do one rep of strengthening, then that's what I'll do.

If I want anymore costumes or face painting gigs, I have to get through this first.

Getting through the pain is a psychological problem. It nauseates me to think about doing things that cause my hip more pain, when I've felt constant pain for twelve years and I know that working out is going to make it hurt more. I'm so fucking sick of hurting.

But I have to push through this and deal with hurting more if I'm ever going to get through this, get to a point where I'm not crippled all the time.

If two hours of every day for the rest of my life has to be devoted to stretches and strengthening routines in order to not hurt the rest of the time, then I need to figure that out and work that into my life now, instead of ignoring it and putting myself in a wheelchair when I'm older because I never learned how to take care of this chronic problem.

I'm broken. I'll never be fixed. But, if I can make myself do the work, it doesn't have to constantly hurt like this.

I guess.

The hardest part is that I don't actually know if this is true.

But I have to try. I have to find out.

So fucking pissed off from hurting all the time. It's destroying me from the inside out. I'm not fit enough to be truly healthy, and psychologically it's just as crippling as it is physically, to always hurt.

I've got to do something. It's all up to me. Physical therapists can only point the way.

FUCK.

Edit: Okay, I am much less angry and actually quite relieved to see that they were not just cleaning balconies, but also power-washing the entire side of the building, which of course necessitates the use of the cherry-picker thing. It seems a little excessive but I'm all for keeping buildings in tact by taking care of them instead of just knocking down and rebuilding after they've been neglected. So, yay! It's not nearly as bad as I thought. Good lesson to learn.

Not that it'll ever happen, but if I somehow fall into a ton of money, please never let me move into a fancy condo building.

"The Henry", across the street from my werk, is having balcony cleaning done. This has been going on all week. It involves running the biggest cherry picker I've ever seen - a deafening engine, burning who knows how many gallons of fossil fuel an hour. All. Day. Long. All week. They've closed off one lane of the street, too.

The cherry picker lifts the cleaners ~4-10 stories up so they can hop off and wash the glass balcony railings. Because the prissy rich princesses who live there can't bear to allow cleaners to just walk through their apartments (they have special little booties so their shoes wouldn't touch your thousand dollar persian fucking carpet or whatever the fuck) to clean their fancy fucking balconies. (That I've never seen any of them use, by the way.)

Blatant wastefulness like this repulses me. The waste of resources should be illegal.

Venting is fun! I'm out of energy or I would also inquire as to why I've had to pay over $700 out of pocket for medically necessary procedures while paying a hefty monthly premium for "health insurance" that is supposed to protect me from bankrupting expenses. I'm curious. If they can't cover a standard cancer screening procedure, what would they be willing to pay if something really bad actually happened? My false sense of security over paying insurance in case I get hit by a car or something is steadily eroding with every new bill I recieve.