Medical Care=Communism, you know.
2003-11-02 // 1:30 a.m..
I haven't been updating, because I keep deleting my entries.
Oh, not by accident... I just get about two-thirds of the way though, and I think, "this sounds too angry. too bitter." or "too depressing!" I don't want to take my grief and upset, and turn it upside down on someone else's head, and end up making them miserable- or pass on my damn-near-suicidal angst onto someone who might act on it.
The thing is, I know I need surgery. No choice.
The other thing is, my surgeon doesn't take DSHS anymore. (my only insurence, it's 'state' insurence for the disabled and indigent.)
The OTHER thing is, other surgeons don't want to take my case because either a) they also do not take DSHS, or b) they are unfamilliar with this rather bizzare condition, and feel I should be treated by someone who knows what is going on. (call your surgeon, they say. he did the other surgeries, he knows what's going on.)
The OTHER thing, is that while my surgeon still takes Medi-Care, the Medi-Care people say I am not elligible to it. I didn't work enough in my life, before becoming this sick, that I 'earned' any Medi-Care benefits.
So.
I think about this, you know?
Here's the thing: State law requires they give 'emergency' care. (and they will! I have a great hospital close by.)
So.
If the loop of bowel gets caught in the hernia I have, and dies, they will operate with a 'staff' surgeon.
I will of course, lose that loop of bowel, and risk losing my life to the infection.
I don't have a whole LOT of bowel to spare, by the way... they've already taken a lot.
...but that's OK, they say- it might mean I have to have a permenant ostomy, but hey, there's worse things, right?
Yes. Yes there are.
When I *had* an Ostomy (and one reason they reversed it and did this internal J-pouch thing) the stoma (the place the gut exits the wall of the stomach, near your navel) would welt up, scar tissue would begin to form on the flesh, and it created an open wound. I kept getting sick, and obviously, it was NOT fun. (YOU try having an open wound, right where the contents of your small intestine dribble out constantly. Yes, a constantly feces-infected wound. NOT fun.)
So. They did the J-pouch.
But... if they keep removing bowel, or if they have to remove any of the J-pouch bowel... well. Hello permenant Ostomy.
But wait! There's More!
It's not sold in any store! YOU, Yes, YOU TOO can die a slow, horrible, PAINFUL death.
If you're poor enough, or disabled enough, or the government really doesn't give a crap about getting you UNdisabled enough to BE a productive member of society.
No, pottential doesn't count.
No, awesome grades and great skills don't count.
Only money counts.
Only.
Money.
So.
So, here I sit, having some more bitter-angry-angsty-SAD moments.
Dammit, I miss my DOG.
Dammit, I want a ball of fluffy, wonderful, AWESOME fur pressed against me before I die.
I don't want to die like this.
Slow, bit by bit, being seen only by emergency doctors, or only because no one else will see me, and they don't really want to do it...
I don't want to DIE at all.
I want my fucking life back. (not that I had much of one, but I was TRYING.)
I had awesome grades in college.
I did Artwork that SOLD. For MONEY. REAL Money.
I was almost there.
I wanted to do MORE Artwork.
Even if no one EVER saw it, even if it only showed up in old flea markets in 2052, in some old lady's hands, saying "huh, I wonder who did this.."
I wanted to LIVE.
I don't know what to do anymore...
I don't.
I think maybe this is a big message from society. I have lost my chances- being 'good enough' didn't matter because I got sick at just the wrong time. I had just the wrong problems at just the wrong time. Now... it's over, apparently. It's all downhill now, baby!
Give me just ONE reason, (this is rhetorical, people.) that I should WANT to live... you know?
Hope is one thing- I'm not the giving up kind... but you know, it would sure be nice to think that I stood a chance. Just one goddamn CHANCE... to have a LIFE again.
Why was I even born, if I was going to have a life like this? If it was going to END this way... slow, and drawn out, because people like my parents think that 'free' medical care is "communism"... but of course, they're upset that no one will pay for MY care...
The world is full of fucking morons.
Idiots.
People who care only for themselves.
...and I have no idea why I even want to live, -to make art for them- to begin with.
What a stupid thing.
Listening to: "Paramedics" on TV
Consuming: Cherry Coca-Cola
Today my t-shirt should read:
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