SILENT SCREAMS

When I was undergoing rigorous physical therapy, one of the therapists asked me "How come you never complain about the pain?" 

"My screams are silent," I answered.

That was absolutely true. Throughout my entire extraordinary life, my physical and mental pain are largely kept within myself.

Lately, I'm tempted to unleash a scream so loud that it would trigger an avalanche in the Rockies.

I didn't want to write another post until I found out more info about my medical issues (I will admit that I'm deteriorating).

Today (Friday) I had a scheduled CT scan in Cookeville, with a followup appt. with my oncologist on Monday.

I was initially supposed to have these appointments in January, but they were cancelled due to snow and ice.

The appointments were rescheduled in February. That's when the (#!××**#!!) transport driver refused to take me because she was afraid that she'd get stuck in my rural driveway.

So, boys and girls, let me tell you what happened today.

My CT scan was scheduled for 1:30. The UCHRA-transport driver was supposed to pick me up between 11:45 and 12:15.

My plan was to be well prepared in case the driver whimped out and refused to trek my driveway

Despite being half-dead (no exaggeration) I single-handedly dragged my heavy wheelchair down the seven front porch steps and sat in it. I figured if the driver refused to come to me - - I damn well will wheel myself down to him (her).

The predicted rain didn't materialize, but it was very cloudy with a chilly wind.

I and my wheelchair waited. And waited. And.....

By 12:30 I was getting worried. Cookeville is far away. By 1:00 I was near hysteria.

By 1:15 I said "To hell with it!"....and some other things that would make Satan blush.

I decided to go back inside.

Dragging a wheelchair up seven steps isn't easy when you have severe edema and a ravaged spine. I almost tumbled over. It was an impossibility. 

I finally tried to go in the back door, but it was even worse than the front porch steps.

I had to go up a treacherous hill where I got stuck. The wheelchair wouldn't budge. I was completely out of breath and both of my slippers came off (I couldn't wear shoes). There was no way I could get into the house.

In absolute desperation I grabbed my cell phone and called the Home Health Care center.

I babbled something about desperately needing help.

My abject humiliation knew no bounds.

Fortunately one of their workers was in my area and he came within minutes. I remembered him from a previous emergency.

 Anyway , he helped me and my wheelchair up the steps.

Just as he was leaving, the transport driver finally showed up. He told me that he'd give the driver hell.

I don't like to instigate rumbles - - but it sounded like a good idea.

Much more to tell, but I'll try to condense (???)

I called the transit office. They were sympathetic, apologetic, etc. I was told that they have unwittingly been switched to using a new system, which doesn't work well and often provides drivers with wrong schedules and late information.

I called the Cookeville Medical Center. They are going to contact UCHRA-transit and try to get things straightened out.

Good luck.

They also scheduled more appointments for me on April 2nd and 4th.......

Excuse me, while I go into another room and scream.

Jon

I'm too tired to check for typos. The photo has nothing to do with this post....