Well it happened. The VA of course claims that there is no possible way that my chronic muscle tears can in any way be related to my service abroad. Yet this evening’s tear, brings the cumulative total to about 14 times that my running and exercise has been effectively grounded since 2003. Funny how before that, in a very aggressive running career of hundreds of miles, I had one muscle pull, not even a full blown tear.
The first question tomorrow is going to be how long can I expect to wait before I see anyone? Seeing someone who actually knows what the heck they are doing, well I can plan 6 months, at a minimum. And I will have to fight my way through the ridiculous bureaucracy and ‘justify’ why I need to see an Ortho person.
Not even a block, less than a quarter mile.
I feel like the universe is indeed fighting every step I take. People don’t understand when I say that I am frankly worn out. How can anyone who doesn’t know understand. You think you are doing the right thing, or at least the right thing for you. Honestly I am not a fan of trying to struggle through and just bide on the way side. There are things that I want to do. And the politically correct and feel good of ‘oh it will be okay, it will work out, don’t worry”, is the kind of thing that turns me off.
I think sometimes we all need a little comfort and some reassurance. Pardon me if I want to catch a break. And when a few things go right for me, I get a little excited. But it is all I have. My life is certainly not exciting. It is pretty dull, and it sucks most of the time. I do my best to not bitch about it, but you know it never ends.
Not that I have the money, but even if I wanted to go and get good health insurance, so I could see a doctor sooner - I am disqualified. Oddly I should be in favor of the recent reform, but all I see coming in the future, just makes me want to run away and turn in my citizenship when I get to the border. In the end does it really matter.
This is an example of a moment, that I think back, and really truly wish that ‘HESCO’ had not been between me and that insurgent mortar round. Sadly it was, and thus I am here. I don’t mind the hard work, but I want some level of comfort. A very basic level, that allows me to get un-interrupted sleep just for one whole week. I can’t even get undisturbed sleep for one night. I would like to have a lower level of stress. It would be nice to deal with a primary care provider who actually “listened” to what I had to say about my problems so that maybe we can pursue effect treatment to correct them, instead of turning into a junkie of prescription drugs simply because I am being stubborn (the audacity I must have to expect to express my issues and try things before popping pills, who do I think I am?)
It is tragic. Is this the end of my running, hell no! But I fear I may be down for a little bit. Determination, yes I have that. I am definitely a little fired up tonight.
Do others have it worse than me? Yes many do. Here’s my question in response though. Where is my due? Because I sacrificed a marriage, friends, my mental health, my physical health, my state of mind; and every day I carry this burden on my shoulders. So yes I am entitled to feel a little grumpy on occasion. I am allowed to question the mythical ‘all knowing’ leaders, because frankly they are idiots.
There is no break for me, no special treatment. Everything I have been able to get, I have busted my ass to get it. And I can’t even get the straight answers that I deserve, I am sorry that is wrong. Don’t tell me anything unless you are willing to take responsibility for what you say. I don’t run around and rape, murder, or rob people. Don’t try to make it look like I am one of those people. I don’t condone violence, period.
There is something wrong, and that something is that I am still here. The bonus time, has not been worth the extra that is included with it. A little bit of satisfaction. Imagine getting good news, or something cool happens, only to be painted as bragging. After all the shit you waded through, still there are people who want to piss on you because you have had the drive, even in the face of fear to pursue the things you love, what you are passionate about.
I will pursue, and I suppose that the real friends and the casual or fake friends will bear themselves out. I can only worry about me. There is really nothing else I can do. Trying to please other people for sake of pleasing other people, is much like trying to live up to other people’s expectations of you. It is a dangerous and often deadly proposition, I would just as soon skip. There is something to be said for cultivating your own mind, your own goals, your own personality. In the end, you have to be happy with yourself or you will hate everyone and everything around you.
Then all the things that are supposed to be good in life become poison. After that who can possibly know what is to come. I can do my best to live my life to its fullest potential in my own way. Beyond that, I have no control. And I am worn out on people who think anything else is realistic. I demand a lot of myself, and that will not change. I just want people to be “real” or “genuine”. My how I loathe “fake”. What is done is done.
So here’s to hoping that the doctors are not complete assholes, however unlikely that might be. They will tell me things like “you set too high of goals for yourself” - well, I won’t respond here. That is just not an acceptable answer to me, heaven forbid that I won’t just convince myself to roll over and die so they won’t be bothered to actually do the job they get paid for.
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