Chronic Pain and Chronic Bitching

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Okay, so as most of you know I’m having a difficult time with my Crohn’s Disease these past few weeks.  So difficult in that which my body decided to plunk itself in the hospital with an obstruction.  I’m back at home now with a high dose of prednisone and am trucking along with a Crohn’s flare.

Sometimes it’s a little much to deal with, especially when you’re like me and don’t voice pain as much as you really should.  Sure people know when I don’t feel good, but beyond Twitter and The Boyfriend, I really don’t whine much.  I try not to.  I think what it comes down to is that when you’re in an immense amount of pain every day, you just kind of deal with it.  You tend to think that people don’t want to hear about your pain, since you’re in it every day.

So you just begin to live with it and bottle it up inside.

A friend of mine was DXed with Fibromyalgia not too long ago, and her and I have always been able to talk about our health issues together.  She was telling me about how her body hurts and when she was done, she said “you know, I don’t really talk about it with people much.  I’m afraid they’ll think I’m just whining.”  That really hit the nail on the head.   When some one complains about something long enough, you start to get annoyed.  It turns into whining.  So those of us with pain, immense pain and horrible symptoms eventually just shut our mouths.

A few months ago I made it a point to start saying when I really felt sick.  Like oh my god I’m dying sick.  Yet it’s hard to stick with.  For instance, today I was having major problems.  Immediately after my break at work, Crohn’s decided that it was time for me to live in the bathroom.  So I ran past my appointment and locked myself in.  My stomach felt like it was being ripped out for HOURS.  Yet when a coworker asked if I was okay, I just said “Oh, just my tummy hurting.  No worries.”  I had told her my stomach hurt bad yesterday, I didn’t want to continue on about it.

The downfall of bottling it up though can cost you someone else’s feelings.  When you spend your entire day pretending that your body isn’t on fire, and being quiet about it, you start losing the ability to be sympathetic for others.  I have to remind myself that even though   *I* can deal with pain and being sick quite well (hey, 5 years experience, haha) other’s can’t.  So while I can suffer through work with pneumonia, a cold will put others on their asses.  Hell, when The Boyfriend had the stomach flu yesterday, I had to remind myself he’s not used to.  That he felt like crap, that I wasn’t the only one.

Internalizing pain, stress and whatever else doesn’t help anyone.  The question is though, if you have a Chronic Illness or Chronic Pain, and you are honest about it, when is enough enough?  When is it whining?  When do people stop believing you?  Ah, the life of a patient.

 

 

 

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Entitled Miniature Assholes

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[This is a rant.  This is my very own personal opinion.  This will most likely some how offend someone reading it.  This is me telling you that frankly I couldn’t give a fuck less.  My opinion is mine.  It belongs to me, and good god people it’s an opinion, just because I believe something doesn’t mean it’s fact, nor do I believe it’s fact.  So stop your bitching, click the X and move on if you do not agree/like or feel the need to leave a bitchy comment.]

Do you know what’s wrong with kids these days?  Do you?  I have a vague idea, no actually several ideas, scratch that… a fucking list.  You know who is to blame?  Parents.  Not just my generation, this shit started in my parent’s generation.  It makes me want to go  back in time and throat punch every last one of those bastards.  Kids.  Kids are little assholes now, well kids are always assholes, I’m pretty sure it’s built into every human’s DNA to be a complete pain in the ass until they’re on their own… and sometimes after.  Kids are just worse now.  

“But I want toooooooooooo…”  No.  I don’t give a fuck.  I told you to go do something, now do it!  That’s pretty much what happened when we were kids.  Guess what, if we whined more we got smacked upside the head/grounded/lost toys/lost dessert/lost whatever.  We got in trouble.  Whining was not allowed.  IF we whined there were consequences.  God forbid we ever whined AND included the phrase “I’m bored.”  I swear, my friends and I cleaned so much… “If you’re so bored, I guess you can scrub the bathroom [ or pick up dog shit, or do the dishes, or whatever fucking chore our parents/aunts/grandparents/uncles/babysitters/fucking random stranger at the park could come up with. ]”  I clearly remember saying I was bored on our vacation.  I also clearly remember picking up dog shit for an hour when I got home later that week.  Instead of consequences, now society meets demands.  Instead of a consequence you’ll here “Oh I’m sorry honey, we’ll find something else to do.”  That.  That “I’m SORRY”.  Really?  Sorry?  You’re sorry that your kid isn’t enjoying going to the water park or whatever expensive thing you decided to do?  KID.  K-I-D.  What happened to imagination.  My sister and I dug holes in the backyard and rode our bikes.  We were too busy being kids to be bored.  My daughter came home from preschool and said she was bored once so far.  That day, her room was the cleanest I’ve ever seen it.  Sparkling.  I told her “If you’re bored, go clean your room.  Spotless.  No toys in sight.  Are you sure you’re bored?”  She said “yeah, I’m boooooored.”.  Like I said.  Sparkling.  That was around 6 months ago.  Have I heard it from her since?  No.  I have heard it walking out of daycare in the evening from the other little germ factories.  I’m prepared.  It’ll happen again.  I hope it does… I need laundry folded.  Whining is our current issue.  Noodle loses toys now.  No whining… unless your sick.  Other than that?  No whining.  So far we’ve only lost 2 toys.  Hopefully she catches on…. Good Will is going to love me otherwise.

I don’t know.  I just don’t get it.  What the hell is up with the punishments now too?  A friend of mine’s son is in grade school.  Instead of losing recess and detentions they have Minors and Majors.  You have to get a certain amount of Minors to equal a Major…. and a certain amount of Majors to equal a trip to the principles office.  Are you fucking shitting me?  My mom worked IN the office.  I spent more time walking past her desk, getting chewed out ON MY WAY to the principle, and then chewed out on my way back ON MY WAY to Detention.  For shit kids are getting “Minors” for.  When I was in school if I sneezed wrong I went out in the hallway.  Spoke out of turn?  Demerit.  Hallway.  Did something while I was supposed to do something else?  Detention.  What the hell are we doing?  We’re not allowed to spank (I understand the controversy), but it’s child abuse to ground?  Just yesterday I heard a mom not want to take away video games from her son because “He’d be bored with nothing to do.”  Oh no shit.  You mean punishment is supposed to fun and entertaining?  He’s supposed to be bored and miserable…. that’s the got damned point of punishment!  When we were grounded… no tv, no toys, no outside, no fun.  Homework, reading, bedroom.  Food and sleep were breaks.  So when your kid goes to high school, jacks some other dude in the face… what are you going to do?  Tell him he can’t have his favorite food for a week?  Have fun with that.

Bullying.  Bullying sucks.  I understand this, I do.  I was damned near 200lbs by 6th grade.  I was bullied.  Constantly.  My life was miserable.  It sucks to have someone pick on you.  Sure some kids have issues because of it (but that’s a whole other rant), but now we’re trying to bubble wrap our children.  Bullying is a CRIME now.  We’re trying to make school/park whatever bullyfree.  Just Rainbows, fluffy bunnies, love, and goddamned skittles.  That’s great!  Sure!  No one will ever have their feelings hurt again.  Oh wait.  Ya’ll forgot something.  It’s called the REAL WORLD.  You tell me that when you’re 35 and working some job that you’re going to get a long with every single fucking person.  No one is going to talk shit.  No one is going to “Not-Like” you.  The busstop… you’re walking your kids.  Every single one of those moms is going to be awesome?  HELL.  The Bar!  Some one is going to insult you.  Good god.  The world is not perfect… people are assholes.  You’re not helping your kids by deluding their world with unicorns and sparkles.  The world sucks… and one day someone is going to be meeeean.  And these kids… these kids who are so used to being sheltered and protected aren’t going to know what to do.  “But oh Sarah, some kid is going to be bullied and shoot up his school again!”  Shut. The. Fuck. Up.  Seriously. That’s not because of bullying.  That’s because of a child who wasn’t taught self-worth, or much more how to stand up for himself.  If your kid goes and shoots up a school, there’s something wrong with them… much more… something wrong with you.  You suck as a parent.

Oh and lets not get me started on awards.  I played softball as a kid.  When we first started playing, we had 1st, 2nd, and 3rd place. If your team didn’t land those… you lost.  You were losers.  You know why?  Not because the adults were being mean, or the other team was trying to hurt your feelings, it was because you SUCKED.  You LOST.  Which means you were NOT as good as other players.  Winners and Losers.  What happened to that.  By the time my little sister finished softball, the team in the last place got trophies.  Not just any losers….. the team that was the ABSOLUTE worst.  Bottom of the barrel, kids whose parents should direct their attention away from a bat and ball… trophies.  Why?  So they wouldn’t feel bad or left out.  WHAT THE FUCK.  THEY LOST.  So when your kid gets a real job and sucks at it, or works with someone who really excels…. do you think that your kid’s boss will hand out a complimentary last place $4 raise?  No!  If you’re lucky he or she won’t get shit canned… but just wait… this generation will hit the work force soon… and every single employer out there will wish they could set a person on fire.  Like I said… we’re not preparing them.  We’re screwing them over.

Oh and don’t forget.  Obesity.  Fat kids.  I know, I was one.  You know what happened?  My dad booted me out the door in the morning, and let me back in to eat.  I walked.  A lot.  I ran.  A lot.  I rode my bike, I played.  I lost a lot of weight that way.  You know why kids are fat?  Because they spend too much damned time in front of the TV and playing video games.  Which brings me to my latest rant.  The kinect.  You know.  That motion activated video game?  I have two words.  FUCK THAT.  Kinect Soccer… my answer?  GET THE FUCK OUTSIDE AND PLAY REAL SOCCER.  Running.  GET YOUR ASS OUTSIDE AND RUN.  Jesus Mary and Joseph.  90% of all that shit can be done in REAL LIFE.  You buy your kid a kinect because you worry the video games are making him fat?  Is she a bit chunky? Screw that, save your $300, and tell your kid to play outside.  Suuuure.  Video games are nice treat.  Couple hours a week and we’re golden.  Hell.  I like some Nazi-Zombies myself… but omg.  GET THE HELL OUT OF THE HOUSE.  When I was a kid, we lost our mom.  My dad worked full time.  We spent a couple years in front of a tv, eating crap food (dad sucked as a cook).  We got fat.  Then we got active.  Then we lost weight.  Simple.  Get the fuck off the couch and do something (that goes to you whiny adults too).  In 7th grade I weighed over 200lbs.  By 8th grade I weighed 150.  Freshman year?  140?  I stayed that way until I got pregnant.  How?  I walked.  A lot.  I walked to my boyfriends/friends/mall (my old friends remember that).  Exercise.  Pure and simple.  In my house now, no video games, no cable tv.  Does Noodle complain?  Nope.  She remembers tv too.  We had it for a bit… then I realized she should be playing more and poof.  Gone.  Will I get cable again?  Maybe years down the line.  Video games?  Nooope… unless she saves to buy it… and then it’s limited until she moves out.

What I’m getting at folks is that we’re fucked.  We’re molding our kids into whiny, entitled, pretentious, sheltered couch potatoes.  Remember… they’re going to be the ones wiping our asses when we get older… Think about what you’re creating, what kind of a person you’re sending into the real world, unprepared.  Think about it.