Tuesday, 27 May 2014

Hospital School: A New Hope

Today was my last 'appraisal' day in the Pain Rehabilitation Clinic; in two days I'll get to know whether I can continue there, or not. Both options are good: if I keep going there, I know I'm getting very good treatment. If not, at least I know the vacancy I leave in like will be filled by someone who likely suffers much more than I do.

And I got a whole lot from those three days there anyway. A doctor who came up with new ideas as to why things hurt; a social worker who showed me how far I let Schpritzie influence my life and fashioned a plan for me to change that, to go back to living the way I used to before it started; a psychologist who explained that the way we handle pain depends on who we are and how we were taught to handle pain in the past, that the patterns need to be analyzed and changed if needed; and a physiotherapist who watched me walk and move, pointed out a few things and gave me some exercises to do to improve things.

This was brilliant. Finally, someone takes the practical attitude to this.

So here's a decision. If I don't get to remain under their treatment, I'll do the following:

  1. Change my doctor to one who doesn't go 'dude, I'm not putting any more effort into this now that we know it's nothing deadly'. 
  2. Request appointments with a physiotherapist and a psychiatrist (yes, still intent on consulting with one regarding medication to limit the mood swings). 
  3. Go to the gym. My dream (regardless of Schpritzie) is to be able to move my body with ease; but I'm also thinking, if all the other muscle groups are stronger, there will be less strain on whatever Schpritzie is. Besides, added bonus for possibly achieving some toning and some fat-loss. I'm not sure I could be arsed doing this for looks alone, but if it eases the pain I think I'm much more motivated. 
Well - let's see what Hospital School says. Until then, backed up by the social worker's orders, I'll try to spend much more time socializing and being out of the house. This, somehow, makes me happy. Maybe it's time to emerge from under that blanket after all. 

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