Every one who has been following this weary blog is familiar with my strange, exasperating, seemingly eternal plight with medical woes.
I've retold the story so many times that I'm thoroughly nauseated with it....and in retrospect it seems like a bizarre Twilight Zone episode. It's gotten to the point where even I can't explain it.
For the past five months I have been trapped in this surrealistic purgatory called physical therapy, where it started out with excrutiating problems with my back and spine - - and now has erupted into a never-ending nightmare concerning a cancerous "wound" on my upper arm that doesn't stop bleeding.
A brief recap - -
In early April, I had a biopsy on my arm - - which apparently went awry (the biopsy, not the arm...). An artery was "accidently" hit, causing the cancerous wound to very frequently bleed and often hemorrhage - - - for the past five (yes 5) months.
Consequently, I've been going through an indescribable nightmare. My arm has been tightly bandaged ever since, and the blood inevitably soaks through almost every two days like clockwork.
I've lost so much blood that my blood pressure dropped so low that I've had fainting spells, vertigo, and renewed heart trouble.
My few trips to doctors yielded nothing. One haughty, condescending (young female) doctor refused to treat me, due to my "delicate health" (bullshit)! Other doctors suggested surgery or radiation therapy.
Instead of helping me, for the past five months, I was given excuses, fabrications, misinformation, and pure unfiltered crap.
I recently learned (through the proverbial grapevine) that all the stalling had to due with the twisted red tape labyrinth of insurance and the medical industry.
My abject disgust and frustration was pent up like a volcano - - and I finally exploded with everybody in the facility and made a scene worthy of a Cecil B. DeMille Hollywood outtake.
My eruption finally worked. Hungarian tempers can be successfully employed.
I'll be starting radiation therapy tomorrow morning in Cookeville Medical Center. An initial ten days have been condensed to five days.
I'm very familiar with the Cookeville M. C. radiation department. In the summer of 2023, I had seven weeks of radiation there. Along with seven weeks of chemo.
So- - -
Is this the glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel?
Is this finally the end of my problems?
Far, far from it. Things aren't that simple. I'm a realist. There are no happy endings.
IF the radiation eliminates the cancer.......IF the radiation stops the hemorrages.......
......IF I can go home after the treatment.....
There are an enormous amount of obstacles I have to face - - including the obstinate social worker here whom I call the Dragon Lady. She is one of the most negative people I ever encountered - - and the Perpetual Bearer of Bad News.
Every time I bring up a Positive, she counters it with a Negative.
She will have a hundred reasons why I can't go home.
I am in poor physical shape, but I'm an adult in a (reasonable) sound mind. I bought that sprawling property at the edge of the forest eleven years ago. Paid cash for it. Worked my solo ass off fixing it up.
The greatest joy of my existence is to be there in the specutacular autumn season - and nobody is going to stop me.
I will get there if I have to consort with the angels - - - or make a pact with Satan himself.
If all else fails......I'm not going to stay in this putrid physical therapy prison. I've wasted enough precious time here rotting away in a hospital bed.
I would rather choose permanent extinction.....and I have secret plans to effectuate my decision....if needed....
eternal rest against all odds.
Blessed Peace.
Jon 💜 weary but prepared for battle
top image courtesy of myself
I'm regrettably disabling comments for this tedious post.....I'll miss you.....
and hopefully disuade ignorant, envious trolls
