Well, today’s the day. And, if things go against me, then tonight’s the night. I am facing returning to work after 42 days off work with a near broken back. I know I am not ready to go back and do my job, it’s rough for me to move a stack of DVDs from one side of the room to the other. I carried a small sized wooden cabinet outside and it nearly ended my night. I laid on the couch and couldn’t catch my breath for almost 40 minutes. And I’m expected to go back and try to continuously lift and move heavy auto pats for 8 hours every day?
I can feel the pain stretching slowly down into my left leg, and it scares me. I have the specter of a problem in my heart looming over my head. I am staring into the face of death, and all anyone can say to me is “you need to lose weight”. As if that will cure an enlarged aorta, or fix disc problems in my back. Today, I go to physical therapy and will try to convince them that my pain has worsened over the weekend, and then later I need to convince my very on the ball doctor that I am not ready to go back to work.
If I am successful, then I will almost definitely be sent to my worker’s comp doctor. They are ogres that hide behind the light of sick leave. They sharpen their teeth in preparations to send workers back to work even if they are not ready. All they are interested in, their only job, is to save the company benefit money. They do not care if I go back to work tomorrow night and collapse as long as they stopped my health benefits for a short period of time.
I need the force to guide me, need to use all my brain power to get through this day. If I’m granted my leave, then let the healing begin anew. If not, then it will only be a matter of time before I am off work again with much worse pain than before. I hope they can see my plight, I hope they understand.
Wish me luck, nameless mob who listens to nobody, I will need it. The pain in my back, hip and leg is great enough that I desire to drink, I am sure that will ease my physical pain if only to set free new mental anguish. It’s funny, I am focused intently enough on my back and other spots that I don’t even consider the inability to hear out of my left ear a problem anymore. I am adapted to the deafness on that side. I manage to get through each day hearing almost none of what people mumble in my direction. I wonder if the reaper is reaching for me even now, sitting in my chair typing this in the dark alone.
If it is, then make it fast. I’m weary of the pain, tired of the aches, and sick of doctor’s appointments and the fear that any day fidelity could call and order me to their doctor. I hope that my little one and GE will be ok if I do go, they are my only worry. I know Audrey is strong enough, I wonder if she is strong enough to be both of us should my body fail.
Is this the ghost of a 33 year old surgery coming back? Has my deformed heart finally decided to quit trying? It gave me an extra 27 years+ thus far, wasn’t supposed to live past 10 they said. They didn’t take into account the love and tenderness of my family. I am sad that now that I’ve found a person who can complete me in all ways, I’m only to have 13 years with her? Why not more? It doesn’t seem fair that I would waste time like I did with another and then not get to live forever with the salvation of my heart and love.
I am eating better, I am taking the medicine they request. I cannot exercise yet, not with the back and hip condition, but I’m hoping it will be enough. Why are we not afraid of dying but then given people who make us desire to live? It’s an unfair existence, but I wouldn’t want it any other way.
If you must pray for me, do not tell me. I don’t believe in it and it will not comfort me, it will only make me question that people must force their beliefs on those who don’t wish to feel that way. Listen to me, I’m laughing even now. Why would anyone pray for me, I’m already gone.