The Saga (and I) Continue Wearily On

Things have gone from bad to worse with my GP issues, as I told you in my last post... And I have to say that I'm sick to my back teeth of talking about it, and thinking about it... round and round my head in circles that never go anywhere and can't resolve anything - but I know I can't stop yet because that means fully giving up.


To recap, my GP, in a sudden, dramatic, and unexpected move, has left the surgery. The patients (including myself and a large majority of the other 'vulnerable patients' who attend this surgery) are lost, and the staff are confused and shocked. She did no official handover to another doctor, so none of the other GP's know our situations or histories past what they can see in our notes. The surgery almost always refuse to do home visits, and I can barely get to my bathroom, never mind to the surgery, so how am I meant to get to know and trust another doctor, and they me? It's a ridiculous situation and one that just shouldn't happen short of the unexpected death of your doctor!)


Anna is currently trying to arrange to meet with the doctor who seems the best replacement & the practice manager, to figure out a way forward, but it's not fair to her that she's having to do something so stressful at a time when her health and her (severe) PTSD are flaring up badly, and when she's also having to adjust to this new dr herself, whilst dealing with a long term as yet undiagnosed health issue. I'm almost more angry about that than anything else, given how much Anna was already struggling, and the tendency of Dr's in the uk to presume a psychological cause for physical illness where a psychological issue already exists, as if they don't realise that, for example,  someone who is depressed or is Bipolar, can also develop MS or Cancer!! (really, how closed minded do you have to be to think that way???) Of course, I'm also now open to that kind of re-interpretation of my illness, which is probably my worst fear in all this. We know nothing about what kind of person this new Dr is, or what he knows or believes about ME... And that's just terrifying! My previous dr may have been borderline or actually neglectful, but at least she didn't try to force me into unhealthy, psychological treatments! There was some level of safety in that.


Complicating issues even further, I need this doctor to communicate with my Gynae doctor about my current condition. The manager over at that clinic thinks that I should get the Hysteroscopy (Did I tell you I need one? I have Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome which has been really flaring up over the last two years, and they want to check that nothing else is going on) done under anaesthetic, because among other issues, it would probably be impossible and definitely be extremely painful and difficult, to hold my legs up in stirrups for the length of time the op takes. However the consultant won't agree to this course of action before he has seen me to assess my condition. Anna has talked to the manager and let her know that if they insist on my going in to see him again just for that, that means 3 visits back to the hospital essentially just for one operation, (I will have to see the anaesthesiologist too, you see) which would mean double the exhaustion and recovery for me. She totally understood and suggested that if I can get my GP to contact the consultant stating that he believes I will need the anaesthetic, then that might suffice. Of course, my GP has never even met me, so how can he do this?? Even worse, he is currently on a 3 week holiday, so everything is completely on hold! So frustrating!!! The one hope I have is that I've requested a copy of the medical report the DWP doctor filled in for my recent DLA reassessment. Considering that I got the highest level possible in that benefit, we're thinking the medical report must have been a really good one. I'm hoping beyond hope that it is, and that we can use it to prove my case somewhat to my new GP and even to the Gynaecologist, if necessary. Seems so funny to me to be pinning hope on such a thing, since similar reports about me have in the past been terribly negative and presumed me to be a malingering liar. There's irony for you!


I opened my Blogger app wanting to write something uplifting and hopeful, but I found that I just don't have it in me, you know? I feel really flat and tired, emotionally. I've had enough of all this fighting. Every day is a struggle just to eat, sleep, get to the bathroom, brush my teeth, ignore the pain, and not go completely crazy trying - and I have little left over to figure out a way through this huge setback. It's just too much. Some days, hope, happiness & health feel so far away that it's like they exist in one reality and I in another. Things really shouldn't be this way. We shouldn't be alone in this! Doctors's should be a safe haven who care for and support us - not something to be feared. I can only hope and pray for all of us that one day, that will be our reality - preferably before this illness affects yet another generation!!

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Oh hey, not to end on such a tragic note, here's a piece of sage wisdom and a reason to hope, imbued in me by reading Blackout by Mira Grant, & Alison Hewitt is Trapped by Madeleine Roux over the last week. Things could always be worse. We could be surrounded by a zombie hoard, just waiting for the chance to eat us! ;) There ya go. My work here is done! Way to rally, Susannah! ;)

I'd love to hear your reply and I know it'll be valued by other readers too! I always try to respond, please just be aware that it can take me some time to find the energy to do so as I've been particularly ill recently and struggling to get online. Thanks for reading! :)

The Saga (and I) Continue Wearily On

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The Universe Just Keeps on Giving! :P

Unfortunately, those gifts just aren't always good!!! Sigh.

We just found out today that my GP has suddenly up and left the surgery, with no warning whatsoever to patients (and according to my liaison at the surgery, it was a complete shock to the staff there, too!) and no obvious dr to switch to within the practice, for those patients who only ever saw the Dr who has left, because she was easily the best Dr in the practice and one of the better Dr's in the area.

I have had my problems with this Dr, but most of them were as a result of the area we live in and the restraints of the practice she worked for, rather than her being a really bad doctor ... But despite all that, I'm feeling a bit panicked about this situation!! She was the only Dr there who knows anything really about my condition, and about our situation here at home. (and how would a new GP get to know me when they refuse to do home visits 99% of the time, and I cannot get to the surgery???) She was also treating Anna who has been very ill for a couple of years, again with quite a complex condition. (Anna has Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, too, and really relied on our doctor to be sensitive to that. She's been crying on and off all day, she's so upset about this - which makes me so mad, I can't even tell you!!!) I know, too, that the Dr treated quite a few other very vulnerable patients, so she has left us all very much in the lurch. I feel really quite angry that she gave us no warning at all, and that she apparently hasn't formally handed us over to any other doctor. To me, that is really, really unprofessional!! She was the only Dr I had even a small amount of trust in at the surgery ... And I honestly have no idea what Anna and I are going to do now!! I was invisible enough already at my practice and now, presumably, there will be no-one looking out for me at all! I've rarely even met any of the other doctors!! I just feel so numb about it all. Neither I nor Anna have the emotional or physical energy to deal with this - there's enough to cope with already!

There isn't really any good surgeries in this run down inner city area, so it's not even like things would necessarily get any better if we picked up and moved to one of the other practices - and it's kind of like playing Russian Roulette because you really have no idea what the doctors are actually like until you switch to their practice. (It's not like in America where you can really pick and choose your doctors, and go to meet them before you transfer to their surgery, etc.) It's not such a problem in the wealthier areas of the country, but it can be a serious issue in the poorer areas because the NHS doesn't dole out the money fairly across the country, and because many of the good GP's refuse to work in the run down areas of the country.

I really feel like I just faded a little bit more ... like I was hidden in deeper shadow from the outside world, and I have no idea how to become visible again. :(

'A Fading Girl' by Sarah Allegra, Used With Permission.

I'd love to hear your reply and I know it'll be valued by other readers too! I always try to respond, please just be aware that it can take me some time to find the energy to do so as I've been particularly ill recently and struggling to get online. Thanks for reading! :)

The Universe Just Keeps on Giving! :P

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Even Caged Birds Sing!

I've been thinking more this week about the nature of grief, and about just how much those of us with severe chronic illnesses, especially those who are housebound & bedbound, actually lose. How much I have lost. How our dreams are smashed, our health, friends, careers are gone, our lives are torn apart & the path of our lives has been irrevocably diverted against our will. I believe that each of us, (and our close family & friends) having lost so much, goes through a process of grieving - one which may in some cases take years, or even be a constant presence in our lives - because each month, each year, more things may be taken from us, starting that process all over again. This grieving process can be made that much harder by the fact that so few people outside of the situation can really understand what we're going through, so a positive support network can be difficult to find.

This grief & loss is so extreme - it affects every single corner of our lives, and our hearts. There are so many things that we each, desperately, miss - and miss out on. It goes so much further than the obvious losses like our health, financial security & careers. We lose friends & family - and our relationships change drastically with the few we do not lose. We are locked away inside our houses, missing out on the fun activities, outings and holidays that our loved ones are able to go on. Some of us may not even be able to see the sun or feel the rain for years on end! We may begin to come up against ignorance & prejudice. Our love & sexual lives change, or sometimes are completely gone! For those who become ill at a young age, childhoods and educations are lost. Conversation becomes difficult or even impossible, meaning we may lose closeness with the people we love. Years disappear for us in almost a vacuum, whilst the lives of our loved ones carry on. Honestly, the list is endless - our bodies really do create a prison within which we are trapped!!

For many of us, especially those with neurological diseases, the things we've lost are now just distant, unfocused memories. Often hazy and difficult to remember or recall. To me, they seem like worlds away from my bed, in my bedroom, where I've been caged for so many years. To me, it literally feels like my past was lived by a completely different person!

The thing is, I believe that, that very grief - that endless depth of pain & suffering, and the daily battle we have to fight to survive it, gives us something very special in return: A deeper understanding of & connection to hope.

Maya Angelou's poem, I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings comes to mind. (You can read this poem in full, below) Reading it again, when I began writing this post, I resonated with the bird in her poem so strongly that it brought tears to my eyes and a slow, painful gasp to my chest! The poem is an analogy for the desperately painful, chillingly lonely, yet also forever hopeful plight of black people at the time of the author's childhood. It is about dreams squashed, and dreams as yet unrealised.

'Little Bird' by Rubyblossom	via PhotoRee

This poem is heart-rendingly sad ... but I don't believe it's about pain, or injustice quite so much as it is about hope - & the strength that we have hidden within us, enabling us to survive whatever comes our way! The hope of gaining freedom from binding circumstances. The hope that dreams will come true. This is the kind of hope and the depth of strength & courage that would move heaven and earth to gain what it most desired!

In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer. ~ Albert Camus ~

This poem, too, corresponds so strongly to the Emily Dickinson poem for which I named my blog, a poem which has meant a great deal to me. 'Hope is The Thing With Feathers' very much conjures up a beautiful, soaring, never-ending hope, whilst 'I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings', evokes a much more frustrated, desperate hope - but is all the more powerful for it! The hope of freedom surely is one of the most powerful of all hopes!!? It certainly is for me!!

I feel, very deeply inside my soul, a desperate voice dreaming of and hoping for freedom. That voice has never let me down, no matter how hard my struggles or how sick I've become - I still have the hope that things will get better. That one day, I'll ramble easily through a forest, or a meadow full of wildflowers, the sun shining on my face and my dogs at my feet. That I'll walk along the beach, the waves gently lapping at my feet, the wind blowing through my hair. Be able to venture outside in the snow, catching the snowflakes & watching them melt. I dream of falling in love & building a family. I want to adopt some older kids who are struggling in the foster system, or perhaps do emergency fostering. I even dream of having a baby, though age & infertility make it all but impossible now. (I think pregnancy is one of the most beautiful, interesting, amazing & challenging processes we can ever go through in life & I want to know how that feels!) I wish I could play in the sandpit with my nephew who I've barely seen more than a few hours in his two years of life, & easily hold his baby brother in my arms. I hope for days spent with family & friends with no restraints on my energy and no pain holding me back.

As it stands, statistically, I have little chance of a full recovery unless a breakthrough is made in the research of Myalgic Encephalomyelitis - but despite that, & like the singing caged bird, I do have the hope that somehow my life will change and that I will find freedom from the grips of this terrible illness. I accept the possibility of being severely ill for the rest of my life, but I hope for better - and no matter how hard the fight gets, I don't intend to give up on that. The point isn't in whether I ever reach my goals, or whether I recover from M.E. The point is that I need the hope that I will get there. It gives me the courage to continue, and helps me to find some level of contentedness & happiness in my present. I have goals & dreams, and no matter how scared I am that those things won't come to pass, I don't want to let go of them, & I'll fight for them! Simply put, I believe that there is no point to life without hope.

'We Must be Free' - By Nanda Correa
(Posted with Permission & Much Thanks!)

I know why the caged bird sings A free bird leaps on the back of the wind and floats downstream till the current ends and dips his wing in the orange sun's rays and dares to claim the sky. But a bird that stalks down his narrow cage can seldom see through his bars of rage his wings are clipped and his feet are tied so he opens his throat to sing. The caged bird sings with a fearful trill of things unknown but longed for still and his tune is heard on the distant hill for the caged bird sings of freedom. The free bird thinks of another breeze and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn and he names the sky his own. But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream his wings are clipped and his feet are tied so he opens his throat to sing. The caged bird sings with a fearful trill of things unknown but longed for still and his tune is heard on the distant hill for the caged bird sings of freedom. ~ Maya Angelou ~

I'd love to hear your reply and I know it'll be valued by other readers too! I always try to respond, please just be aware that it can take me some time to find the energy to do so as I've been particularly ill recently and struggling to get online. Thanks for reading! :)

Even Caged Birds Sing!

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