I like to have this saved in my phone so I can show friends, family, or random people who are curious to understand the spoon theory and for them to get a better understanding of what we have to do/think about every day.

Whumptober Day 10

“C’mon, Mar. We’re heading to the hospital.” Chaia grabbed the hospital backpack off the sofa and slung it over her shoulder. “I’ll carry you to the car.”

“No,” Maria insisted weakly.

“I know you hate hospitals, but would you please look at your finger?” Chaia pleaded. On Maria’s finger was a purple pulse oximeter. Her pulse was 170 and she hadn’t gotten up in 20 minutes. Of course, Maria’s pulse had gone down since she collapsed onto the sofa. “It hasn’t been this bad since before your diagnosis,” Chaia reminded Maria. “You definitely need fluids and an EKG. An echo might even be warranted. I can’t do any of that here. Let me help you feel better.”

“I’m fine,” Maria insisted through labored breaths. In reality, she was not fine. Her chest was heavy and pained with each beat of her heart. She felt like she couldn’t breathe and her head spun. “I am going to work,” she proclaimed. She stood up from the spot on the sofa. Almost immediately, Maria’s vision went black and she collapsed to the floor.

Chaia sighed and scooped her wife up, knowing that she’d probably come to soon. “That’s one way to let me help you.”

So, as we all know, there is a pandemic at the moment. As someone with a chronic illness (and as someone whose partner has active asthma), I am concerned. I don’t want to catch coronavirus and I certainly don’t want my partner catching it. If we did, it would be extremely serious for us both.

I work for the NHS and so am classified as a key worker (as is my partner). Where he can work from home, I can not. I am currently at home due to an IBD flare-up (which I’ll get into in a bit), but I will eventually need to go back to work. The thing is, even though my work’s Occupational Health has advised I stay away from patient interaction, my job is patient-facing, so I’m not sure what I’ll be able to do when I do go back. And on top of that, what if I pick up coronavirus on my way home or from an asymptomatic colleague? There’s not a lot I can do other than opt to self-isolate. This will have to be something I discuss with my manager when I return to work.

As for the flare-up, it started about three weeks ago. We had just got back from the Netherlands and I was starting to experience stomach cramps. I put this down to having tensed during the flights as I dislike flying, namely take-off and turbulence. I thought they’d go away after a bit but no, they kept getting worse. Two weeks ago, it got to a point where I was having to sit down because I would get nauseous if I was stood for too long. That’s when the fatigue began to set in, to a point that my colleagues were starting to notice. They would tell me that I didn’t look well and that I should go home. I didn’t want to. The fact is, I haven’t been at this job for a year yet and my probation period had already been extended due to two instances of sickness (both of which I was hospitalised). If I called in sick, that would be three instances within the first nine months of my employment and I didn’t want to risk losing my job (despite all the reassurances from my colleagues to the contrary).

Come Friday of that week, and I am feeling awful. Thankfully, Friday afternoons are quiet for me at work so I didn’t have to do a lot. I decided I would use the weekend to rest and evaluate my condition Monday morning. I think they saw it coming as my manager was not surprised when I called in. I was signed off for two weeks. That two weeks is almost up and, unfortunately, I am not feeling much better. If anything, the pain is worse. I’ll be speaking to my GP again Monday to extend my sick note. It sucks but I have been advised by my GI to stay at home if I am experiencing flare symptoms. Hopefully, things will settle down soon and I’ll feel well enough to return to work.

Anyway, to everyone who reads this, whether you have a chronic illness or not, stay safe.

So, as we all know, there is a pandemic at the moment. As someone with a chronic illness (and as someone whose partner has active asthma), I am concerned. I don’t want to catch coronavirus and I certainly don’t want my partner catching it. If we did, it would be extremely serious for us both.

I work for the NHS and so am classified as a key worker (as is my partner). Where he can work from home, I can not. I am currently at home due to an IBD flare-up (which I’ll get into in a bit), but I will eventually need to go back to work. The thing is, even though my work’s Occupational Health has advised I stay away from patient interaction, my job is patient-facing, so I’m not sure what I’ll be able to do when I do go back. And on top of that, what if I pick up coronavirus on my way home or from an asymptomatic colleague? There’s not a lot I can do other than opt to self-isolate. This will have to be something I discuss with my manager when I return to work.

As for the flare-up, it started about three weeks ago. We had just got back from the Netherlands and I was starting to experience stomach cramps. I put this down to having tensed during the flights as I dislike flying, namely take-off and turbulence. I thought they’d go away after a bit but no, they kept getting worse. Two weeks ago, it got to a point where I was having to sit down because I would get nauseous if I was stood for too long. That’s when the fatigue began to set in, to a point that my colleagues were starting to notice. They would tell me that I didn’t look well and that I should go home. I didn’t want to. The fact is, I haven’t been at this job for a year yet and my probation period had already been extended due to two instances of sickness (both of which I was hospitalised). If I called in sick, that would be three instances within the first nine months of my employment and I didn’t want to risk losing my job (despite all the reassurances from my colleagues to the contrary).

Come Friday of that week, and I am feeling awful. Thankfully, Friday afternoons are quiet for me at work so I didn’t have to do a lot. I decided I would use the weekend to rest and evaluate my condition Monday morning. I think they saw it coming as my manager was not surprised when I called in. I was signed off for two weeks. That two weeks is almost up and, unfortunately, I am not feeling much better. If anything, the pain is worse. I’ll be speaking to my GP again Monday to extend my sick note. It sucks but I have been advised by my GI to stay at home if I am experiencing flare symptoms. Hopefully, things will settle down soon and I’ll feel well enough to return to work.

Anyway, to everyone who reads this, whether you have a chronic illness or not, stay safe.

I think one of the things about living with chronic pain is that you just… forget other people don’t. You forget their days aren’t marked by which body parts the pain is worst in that day, which rituals they’ve gone through to try to ease it, which tasks they think are manageable through the haze of pain. And sometimes you begin to ascribe some type of meaning to the pain, even though you know it’s senseless. Even though you know all you can do is endure it. This isn’t some story where the pain is an allegory for something else that can be defeated in the end. It doesn’t stand for some greater evil. It’s not something that will go away when you learn to love and accept yourself. You can get therapy, you can find love, you can finish whatever quest you set out on, and you’ll still be in pain. I don’t know how to explain the exhaustion that holds.

After months of remission with just minor problems the past two days reminded me of my life with active Crohn’s disease again. And I definitely don’t miss it. At all. I guess I overdid the whole “Oh I’m in deep remission I can try salad and eat some more cheese again…” thing. Seems like my intestines still struggle with more processed/dairy foods. But I don’t think that I’m flaring. Hopefully. Oh well. Woke up at night. Now nauseous and in pain again. And look like pregnant the third day in a row. Took 7 extra pills. Tomorrow will be a better day. It has to be.

No. 10 - OOPS, I DID IT AGAIN

@whumptober2021

@whumptober-archive

hospital | flare-up | ice chips

Harrison normally loved the busier shifts. They kept his mind occupied, which was only a bonus. The hard work often meant he’d fall into bed and go straight to sleep. But today was different.

He’d woken up in the middle of the night with cramps down his thigh, which took an age to settle. By the time they’d worn off, it had been time to get up for work, which had been less than ideal.

With an hour left of his shift, he was really struggling. He’d already snapped at two other nurses, threatened to punch Finn, and downed as many painkillers as he could. He’d disappeared to the toilets to check on his prosthesis on more than one occasion, just to make sure it wasn’t rubbing. Or pouring with blood as it felt. Every step sent a stab of pain through his foot and calf, even though they were no longer there. It made it worse than the actual pain, knowing there was nothing he could do to fix it.

Broken bones? Easy. Heart attacks? Not a problem. Phantom pain? He was fucked.

Back at the nurses station, he groaned, dropping his head into the keyboard. His pile of patients was only growing, and they just seemed to be getting more and more daft. He didn’t have the patience.

Fao was leaning against the nurse’s station, writing a set of notes when Harrison sat down with a groan. It was unmistakably his friend, one of the nurses had said he was having a bad day. He looked like it, too.

He shoved his pen into his bun and looked up.

“You alright, Tomcat?”

“I’ve got no more room.” He answered from the keyboard. “If you want a patient brought in, move them out of the ED first.”

“My patients are fine. Was asking after you, dumbass.”

“I’m fine.”

“You look it. Just really love that keyboard, eh?”

He pushed himself up, spinning on his chair. “What do you want?”

“Was just wondering if you were alright, given how you just assaulted that keyboard.”

He ran his hand through his hair as he looked at the screen. “Just notes.”

“Anything I can help with?”

“Can do all my patients.”

“Gonna be hard if I’ve not seen them.”

“You can do that too.” He said with a grimace.

“Thought you might say that. When do you finish?”

“Another hour at least.”

“Could be worse. You’ll be in handover soon. Need anything? Water? Coffee?”

He looked up at Fao. “You know exactly what I want.”

Fao softened. “I know, I know. Anything else, though? Sugar, maybe?”

“No, I’m alright. Thanks.”

“Are you gonna go out when you finish, or…?”

“I’ll get a taxi if I do.”

“Look after yourself, yeah?”

“Are you going to stand there and interrogate me, or are you going to let me work?”

Fao ducked his head. “I’ll let you work, sorry.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He snapped.

Fao went back to his notes after that, pulling his pen out of his bun and starting to write again.

Harrison swore at him under his breath, and actually tried to do some work. It didn’t take long before he was called away, though, and he could have cried. He struggled to his feet, biting hard on his lip to stop himself crying out in pain.

Fao frowned at his friend, the way he was obviously in pain as he stood. He didn’t know whether or not to say anything, so settled with speaking to one of the nurses he knew quite well, asking her if she’d give Harrison a hand if she could. He knew he’d probably just get help thrown back in his face if he tried.

He put a brave face on while he saw to the patient, but as soon as they were moved back to the waiting room, his facade snapped. It was so obvious to him that Fao had sent the nurse after him, knowing that he wouldn’t speak to her the same as he would Fao. He assured her he was fine, forced another smile and gave an excuse about needing the toilet again. With one hand steadying himself on the wall, he headed to the changing room, just desperate for five minutes of peace.

Fao couldn’t watch him struggle like that. It genuinely looked like if he took his hand off of the wall, he’d fall over. He’d finished his notes, and had been reading a radiology report when he decided he couldn’t stand by and watch Harrison suffer. He caught up to him in a few easy strides, and stood in front of him.

“What do you need to make things easier?” He asked, voice low. “I’m not stupid enough to try and send you home, but you need something to help, Tomcat.”

He wasn’t surprised Fao had stuck his nose where he wasn’t wanted and he frowned at him. “Just leave me alone.”

“Come on, why don’t we go and sit down?” He said, unfazed. They weren’t far from the changing room.

“Where do you think I was going?” He snapped. “Let me get on with it.”

Fao raised an eyebrow, but moved to let him into the changing room. He followed him in, obviously, and sat down. “Talk to me?”

“I just need five minutes, Fao. Give me the space.”

“I’m worried about you, Tomcat.” He said gently. “What’s wrong?”

“Right now? The fact you won’t leave me alone!”

“Is it your leg? Prosthesis rubbing?”

“You, being a dick.”

“Come on, that’s not fair. You looked like the wall was holding you up. Looked worse than me on a bad day, hmm?”

“Fao, please. I just need five minutes.”

“I just want to help.”

“You can’t. I just need five minutes. Please.”

“Not even a hug?”

He scoffed, though it quickly broke into a sob. He didn’t need Fao being nice to him, he didn’t need any of the pity. He dropped his head to his hands, trying to cover his mouth to stop the sounds.

“Oh come here, you daft shite.” Fao said, looping his arm around his shoulders. “It’s alright.”

Harrison collapsed into him, his chest heaving. He’d tried to stay strong, to just ignore it and get on with work, but the pain had just become unbearable. It made it worse that there wasn’t anything he could do for it, that it wasn’t even real.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you. You’re alright.” Fao soothed.

“I’m sorry.” He said quietly between tears.

“Don’t be sorry. You don’t need to be sorry.”

“It won’t stop.”

“Phantom?”

He nodded into Fao’s chest. “Since last night.”

“How can I help?”

“You can’t. Nothing does.”

“What about something like TENS?”

“Haven’t got one.”

“Pain management have a stash, I know where it is. Or we can just sit here and feel miserable, if that’s what you wanna do. Don’t always have to have a solution.”

“I thought I was over this.”

“These things come and go.” He said gently. “You’ll have good days and bad days.”

“I was better.” He looked up at Fao. “I’ve been trying. I don’t deserve this.”

“I know. You don’t deserve any of it. But the nerves are all screwy in that leg and it’s gonna happen. It will ease.”

“I’ve still got patients to see.”

“Let’s just worry about you, first. You’re no good to patients if you’re in this much pain.”

“I’ve got to work, I can’t just stop.”

Fao hummed. “I get that. But could you cope if a major trauma came in right now?”

“I’d have to.”

“You’re in no fit state.”

“I’m fine.”

“You need to go home.”

“I’m nearly finished.”

“All the more reason to call it a day.”

“Fao, please.”

“Come on, you know you can’t work like this.”

“I’ve done all shift like this.” He pulled back from Fao, rubbing his thigh.

Fao rested his hand on Harrison’s thigh. “You need to stop, yeah? You’re not going to make this any better by pushing on through. Take your leg off, and go home.”

“It doesn’t make it any better!”

“Is it worth a try?”

“No.”

“Alright.”

He rubbed his face. “I just need to finish this shift.”

“I’m here if you need anything, yeah?”

With a heavy sigh, he nodded. “Yeah.”