*sigh*

At my surgical follow-up today with the medical officer who took care of me while I was inpatient :

Dr: Hi. So what happened?

Me: Erm… Nothing happened? *puzzled look*

Dr: Hmm… Where’s your referral? *types on keyboard and searches through my records.*

(Dead silence with both parties equally puzzled. You could hear the crickets figuratively.)

Dr: Oh hi Steph! How have you been?

Me: Oh you mean you didn’t know who I was?

Dr: Ward__ Bed_ right?

Me: Exactly!

-_-“‘

I am finally granted a colonoscopy. They wanted to do it 2 months later.

“Let’s just get it over and done with, can we? Anyway my rheumatologist already suggested it then. And is there anything stronger than tramadol? I’m back to square ones since the triamcinolone shot died out on me.”

Sigh. Gotta be thick-skinned. Don’t want to throw face also cannot. If there is something that I’ve learnt about being patient, it definitely will be about asking and telling. If you don’t tell them about your pain, if you don’t ask for analgesia, if you don’t tell them that you want to change medications, then they are definitely not gonna give it to you. Because doctors rely a lot on objective data to treat us, but they need to hear the subjective data from us. They cannot give us anything for something like pain if we don’t open our mouths. Right? Right.
I can’t stand it, having to ask openly for something. But it’s the only way out.

I am prescribed codeine till my next rheumy appointment. So codeine will be my best friend, alongside with ketoprofen plasters, for about 3 weeks.

I guess that I was right afterall. They’d definitely not want me- an inherent failure in all that I do- when they get to know me better. So as I said, they’ll live to regret ever wanting me, because I’ll never be able to deliver and meet expectations.

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