I try not to write in anger. I would much rather keep things positive and not let frustration get the better of me but what the hell, I’m human and I am allowed to be frustrated. I’m allowed to be angry.
For a wheelchair user pressure sores are the risk involved in enjoying life, always lurking in the shadows waiting to pounce. If I am out of bed for the day, say 10 hours, I am sitting in exactly the same position and putting pressure on exactly the same areas without a seconds relief. Think how many times during the day you are up and down and moving about. Even when you are sitting for a prolonged stretch you constantly shuffle and readjust, often subconsciously. If for 10 hours I happen to be sitting on a crease in my jeans or if a seam is out of position the consequences can be cruel.
This happened a week ago. After a day out at the cinema followed by a night watching football with a friend I went to bed and heard the words I always dread, “your skin is broken”.
At the base of my coccyx there was an area no larger than a fingernail without any skin covering it. Could have been a number of things, too many to speculate, but the damage was done.
In years gone by I would have ignored it, my invincibility complex convincing me it’s nothing to worry about but last year I was taught a severe lesson. After ignoring a small pressure sore I continued to get up as normal, rubbishing any advice from my carers or nurses. I ended up spending three months stuck in bed and missing all of the summer (as much as we get in Scotland). So now I am cautious, something very unnatural to me.
I have been in bed for one week now. Spending six hours on my right hand side before being turned to spend six hours on my left hand side. Back to the right, then to the left, then to the right and so on and so on until day and night become the same and one day merges into the next.
I am so uncomfortable. I’m lying so far round on my side it’s not natural, not for six hours without an inch of mobility to relieve any pain. I am so bored. Social networking can only occupy my mind for so long, I can only watch so many films a day, I can only sleep for so long. I am so irritable. I keep snapping, biting the head off those trying to help, cancelling visitors because I don’t have the energy to socialise, only harming myself by turning everyone away. I am so f*cked off and I am angry that after all the shit I need to deal with I’m now expected to put up with this.
Why give in to the anger today? I was supposed to be getting up, my skin should have been healed. The district nurse came out this morning to remove the dressing. After looking at it last Friday everyone agreed that the weekend would have been plenty of time for the healing process to finish. Apparently not.
She says so cheerily “that’s great, only another couple of days”. Go f*ck yourself, that’s what you said a couple of days ago. Don’t they realise that another 48 hours of lying in pain and trying to pass one minute at a time is not “great”? Sometimes in my darker moments I wish this on others. Not forever like me but just for long enough so they have some understanding.
Anyway, this is the first time I have written in anger. It doesn’t feel any better which I suppose is a lesson but it did pass some time.
What time is it now?
Is that all???