On Friday, I got a letter from Social Security. The date of my hearing is November 6. Three days after my knee surgery. Like I've said in another forum, I honestly can't tell which is the more fun prospect - Having to show up for the hearing in the wheelchair because I just got the surgery, trying to argue that despite the surgery I'm still disabled because my mental illnesses are the reason I'm here anyway, or trying to do all this on heavy painkillers.
Though it turns out this conundrum is more a philosophical debate, as my wife suggested that I push back the hearing because of the surgery, and my lawyer said there is no way I'm going to court that day. Both because of the surgery and so he can work on the case.
So, I've been waiting since (I want to say I got the letter saying I was on the docket in...February? Really, February? Ok) February for my hearing date, and now that I finally have one I'm going to ask to shuffled to the bottom the list again. At this rate I'm never getting Social Security.
Right now my bipolar is Slightly Depressive.
Right now my pain level is 6.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Monday, October 12, 2009
Surgery And Fears That No One Will Understand
My knee surgery is three weeks from tomorrow. And Jesus Christ I'm conflicted about it. On one hand , I can't wait. Especially on days like today, when I'm in excruciating pain, when I'm at least a 7.5 on the pain scale even through the vicodin. On the other, I have feelings about the surgery that are very hard to explain, but I'm going to try in this post.
In August of 2001 my life changed. I became physically disabled. I'd been mentally disabled for some years before and to some extant I guess I was physically disabled, too. My heart problems, my asthma, etc - invisible disabilities. My point is, I became seriously and visibly disabled. My ability to walk was, I was told at the time, irreparably impaired. And I've discovered in my time in the Disabled Community that there is a world of difference between those with visible disabilities and those with invisible ones. But more on that later.
In the past eight years I've become fairly active in the Disabled Community. I fight for Disabled rights whenever and wherever I can. In fact, I've become pretty militant about it. I am a Disabled Person. And I'm proud. But I'm getting surgery in three weeks that if all goes well will end my reliance of canes and wheelchairs. Why? So I don't hurt all the time.
I just want to not hurt anymore. Is that so wrong? Why do feel like some sort of Cripple Uncle Tom? It's not fair that I feel this way. I feel like I'm betraying everything I stand for. Well lean for and sit for. There's no reason anyone should have to feel guilty for not wanting to feel pain, and yet I do.
And then there's the identity issue. If I'm not the guy on the cane, who am I? I've been the cripple so long, if I'm not I don't think I'll know who I am anymore. I've tried to explain this fear to friends and family, even my therapist, and no one knows what I mean. They all think I'm being ridiculous. But this really bothers me. Sometimes it keeps me up at night.
And there's the reactions from the Disabled Community. I feel like like I'll be shunned. Yes, I'll still be disabled, I'll still be mentally ill and I'll still have tons of other medical issues, but I won't be visibly disabled anymore. And a great many visibly disabled people look down on invisibly disabled people. They're like the light-skinned of the community. They can "pass." As a friend of mine put it when I was talking to her about my fears regarding the surgery, the invisibly disabled are kind of like bisexuals. They don't fit with either group. Just as bisexuals aren't really gay or straight, the invisibly disabled aren't crippled, but certainly aren't not crippled either. I'm not looking forward to explaining to people that "Yes, I am disabled. I'm mentally ill." Having the visual shorthand of a cane is much easier.
The worst part is the surgery might not even work. There's a 25-33% chance that I'll end up worse than I was when I went in. That I'll have less ability to walk and more pain. I'll be using a wheelchair almost full-time. But these things have already been getting worse. If I don't get the surgery, I'll be using a wheelchair almost full-time in a year anyway. So there;s no reason not to take the chance. I have to try. I need to try. I want to not hurt. Even if it means I might end up hurting more.
But if it works, I hope the other crips forgive me. And I hope I forgive myself.
Right now my bipolar is Kinda Level.
Right now my pain level is at least 7. 5 through vicodin.
In August of 2001 my life changed. I became physically disabled. I'd been mentally disabled for some years before and to some extant I guess I was physically disabled, too. My heart problems, my asthma, etc - invisible disabilities. My point is, I became seriously and visibly disabled. My ability to walk was, I was told at the time, irreparably impaired. And I've discovered in my time in the Disabled Community that there is a world of difference between those with visible disabilities and those with invisible ones. But more on that later.
In the past eight years I've become fairly active in the Disabled Community. I fight for Disabled rights whenever and wherever I can. In fact, I've become pretty militant about it. I am a Disabled Person. And I'm proud. But I'm getting surgery in three weeks that if all goes well will end my reliance of canes and wheelchairs. Why? So I don't hurt all the time.
I just want to not hurt anymore. Is that so wrong? Why do feel like some sort of Cripple Uncle Tom? It's not fair that I feel this way. I feel like I'm betraying everything I stand for. Well lean for and sit for. There's no reason anyone should have to feel guilty for not wanting to feel pain, and yet I do.
And then there's the identity issue. If I'm not the guy on the cane, who am I? I've been the cripple so long, if I'm not I don't think I'll know who I am anymore. I've tried to explain this fear to friends and family, even my therapist, and no one knows what I mean. They all think I'm being ridiculous. But this really bothers me. Sometimes it keeps me up at night.
And there's the reactions from the Disabled Community. I feel like like I'll be shunned. Yes, I'll still be disabled, I'll still be mentally ill and I'll still have tons of other medical issues, but I won't be visibly disabled anymore. And a great many visibly disabled people look down on invisibly disabled people. They're like the light-skinned of the community. They can "pass." As a friend of mine put it when I was talking to her about my fears regarding the surgery, the invisibly disabled are kind of like bisexuals. They don't fit with either group. Just as bisexuals aren't really gay or straight, the invisibly disabled aren't crippled, but certainly aren't not crippled either. I'm not looking forward to explaining to people that "Yes, I am disabled. I'm mentally ill." Having the visual shorthand of a cane is much easier.
The worst part is the surgery might not even work. There's a 25-33% chance that I'll end up worse than I was when I went in. That I'll have less ability to walk and more pain. I'll be using a wheelchair almost full-time. But these things have already been getting worse. If I don't get the surgery, I'll be using a wheelchair almost full-time in a year anyway. So there;s no reason not to take the chance. I have to try. I need to try. I want to not hurt. Even if it means I might end up hurting more.
But if it works, I hope the other crips forgive me. And I hope I forgive myself.
Right now my bipolar is Kinda Level.
Right now my pain level is at least 7. 5 through vicodin.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
