Let me try and explain my "life" to you. I am bedridden. Which wouldn't be the end, if I was comfortable at ALL. I can't move myself. Caregivers come and go throughout the day. I'm always in pain, I spasm every time I try to move anything, I wear a Foley catheter that always hurts like hell. I watch TV all day because it's all I can do. I only have use of my left hand, and I'm right handed. It's getting harder and harder to breathe. Yes, I twitter and Facebook and do some bookkeeping on my laptop and am always playing Candy Crush or Farm Heroes. I have two cats that I adore and are the only reason I am still alive to write this. But do you REALLY think that is reason to live? When you suffer and struggle and live in pain 24/7, when the agency meant to send you people to shower you and stretch out your legs do nothing but add stress and frustration to your life and complain about how heavy you are? I fucking hate it. I hate it all. I have not been the same since those paramedics fucked me up on September 21, 2012 and it's just getting worse. And worse and more hellish and worse. I wouldn't want my absolute worst enemy to even have to spend one hour trapped like this. And oh, the itchiness. In all these places I can't reach.
I COULD GO ON AND ON AND ON! Why I'm still alive, I don't know. I take tons of supplements and use my Chi machine. I'm sure that's why, but if I stopped those first I'm afraid the pain and suffering would be so much worse before I went.
I'm really sick and tired of it all. I'm sorry to those that will miss me, but I have missed myself for way longer. I am so relieved that I don't need to struggle through another day!!!
Bless anyone reading this. Love to all. Whatever you believe, I believe I am walking again. Maybe even dancing.
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