Sliver Linings in the Storm

     If you've been around the internet, you've read more than a few pieces complaining about the world. It's understandable, especially in the chronic illness/disabled/spoonie communities.  Being in pain, sick, and often at the mercy of jaded health professionals, will wipe the smile right off your sick face.  It's easy to wallow in the suckiness of it all.  I've certainly been in that pit of despair a lot lately; thinking about all the doctors and nurses who treated me as less than human. That after four years, I'm still in crippling pain.  This in turn exacerbates my mental illnesses, and I end up wrapped in a depression-cocoon of blankets and carefully placed pillows, alternately crying and trying not to have panic attacks.

     I'm super fun, really...

     Anyway, after doing a freelance gig today, I started thinking about what my old therapist used to make me do.  10 years ago I had a brief go at therapy, and one of the handy tools she offered me was to write down something that made me happy at the end of the day. I'd journal, then list 3 things that were good that day, or that brought me joy. Even dark clouds have silver linings, and all that happy horse shit.  I wondered if I could think of any happy or good things in this journey to fix my broken body, and surprisingly, more and more kept popping up.

So here, in no particular order, are the health care professionals who deserve gold stars and a baskets of kittens:

1. The fellow LGBT nurse who let me know I wasn't alone:

      One of my first ER trips, Jax (my spouse now, then we were just dating) took me to the closest hospital, which happened to be very catholic.  I was in a room with a few nurses and Jax, and the nurses were asking awkward questions

"Are you sexually active?" "What kind of birth control are you on?" "Is there any way you could be pregnant?" 

Normal questions really, but I had to explain at the catholic hospital that I wasn't on birth control, was sexually active, and there was no possible way I could be pregnant, because neither of us has sperm.  Seeing me blushing and worrying about being judged, a nurse came up beside me, smiled, and said, "I'm sorry we have to ask those questions. Don't you worry honey, you've got family here."  Then he winked at me.
I had been in pain and scared of judgment. Thank you, fellow LGBT nurse, for giving me comfort when life was extra sucky.  You made me smile, and feel less alone.

2.   Dr. P And Snoop Dogg Nurse:

(This is the closest thing to Snoop and a doctor I can get lol)


     It was another year, and another ER trip.  For some reason, a student was practicing IV insertion on me. Note: my veins are deep, small, and they twist. After 3 tries, the teacher takes over for the student. It's a no go. Finally, Snoop Dogg Nurse comes in. He's the most calm, chill, helpful nurse out there. Gets the IV in like it's nothing, and talks calmly to us, letting his aura of chill vibes calm us down too.  An absolute delight of a human being.  Then Dr. P comes in, and (though we didn't know it then) he immediately correctly diagnosed me. He told me he was positive it was my back, and that he'd sent a note to my doctor. A year or so later, he was proved correct.  The whole time he talked with me with kindness and gave me all sorts of information on how to make my doctors listen to me.  Dr. P, thanks for giving me hope that I'd finally be diagnosed.

3.  My post-surgery nurses:

I wish I could remember specific names, but my time in the hospital after my laminectomy and fusion is a haze of medication and pain.  There were 3 or 4 nurses who were just amazing to me though.  Thanks especially to Kelly (and thanks Jax for remembering her name!)  Kelly sat with me as I cried, saying I wished I'd never gotten the surgery; that the pain was so bad I wanted to kill myself. She told me that she knew the pain was bad, but it was going to get better. She told me about her sister, who had the same surgery, and was now doing so much better. She told me to keep holding on, because there was a light at the end of this tunnel.  She made me laugh, even as I was in so much pain my body shook. She took pictures of my stitches with my phone, so I could see it, and was wonderfully human at a time when I felt like a lab rat.

(The day after surgery, featuring the wonderful Nurse Kelly's hand/manicure)

Mark was another nurse during post surgery who went absolutely above and beyond.  He was the night shift nurse, but was never far when I needed help. When I fainted due to a bad med combo (0/10, do not recommend), he realized quickly enough to catch me and get me back into bed before I fell and messed my back up even more.  He even made me laugh when I was super uncomfortable and embarrassed with a blocked catheter.  I could honestly go on all day about the nurses I had post back surgery, so many amazing people.


     I could go on, but I ought to save some for the next time I'm in my depression cocoon.  It's so easy to get caught up in the constant pain and trouble of dealing with doctor after doctor and appointment after appointment.  Pain grates on you over time, you can never truly get used to it. Having people in health care who actually give a shit is such a huge gift.  It's so easy to become jaded anytime you work with the general public, and when the general public is grumpy and sick, I'm sure it's even worse.  But I certainly know that being able to interact with those few wonderful humans who retained their humanity has actually changed my life.  When you're scared, in pain, and helpless but for the nurses around you, knowing that nurse is a kind person who actually wants to help makes all the difference.

  I may have had more than my fair share of pain and health care bullshit, but I've also had the gift of meeting some truly rad people.  To the doctors and nurses out there who have kept their humanness, who treat their patients like people, not diseases, who keep a sense of humor, and reach out to others, Thank You.  You're the real MVPs.

What are your 3 good/happy things?