6 months ago I moved to Scotland and the idea was that my medical notes would come with me detailing various test results and specialists appointments and referrals and medications and whatnot, meaning I could receive adequate medical care for my on-going health conditions – including Fibromyalgia.
The reason I’m writing this blog is because the above hasn’t happened. My notes are “lost”. “Misplaced”. “They will be ‘somewhere’…”. So for the last 6 months I’ve been back and forth to the GP getting a fortnightly prescription of Tramadol and being told to “hang on in there”.
It’s ok though because today all of my problems have been solved by my GP in one fell swoop – a miracle cure nonetheless! Do you know what my problem is? I’m depressed and constipated. Yep. That is the cause of constant muscle pain, joint pain, extreme fatigue, balance and co-ordination problems, memory blanks, feeling like the ground is constantly shaking, numb patches of skin, pins and needles in my face and tongue, shooting nerve pain, rib and chest pain, feeling like water is trickling down my legs and more. The constipation is obviously nothing to do with the fact I’m taking enough Tramadol to euthanise a small horse. The depression is not at all to do with living with the above problems and having absolutely no relief, no care and no hope.
Essentially, to cure all of my problems I just need to cheer up and a have a good shit. If only someone had told me this years ago! If only someone had pointed out this cure-all when I was 13 and struggled to write at school because my wrists were so sore. You’d have thought someone would have mentioned it when I was limping to university, my hip giving way sporadically and miraculously recovering overnight – only to be hit with it again a few weeks later. Why didn’t anyone say anything when for three weeks in Australia I could barely walk, had a mouth full of blisters and my hair was falling out? If only I’d have known that the extreme fatigue that means my partner is slowly becoming my carer could be solved so easily! All of my pain could be gone. I could have my life back!
I thought I was neglected by the NHS for the last 6 months because my notes have been lost. The truth is, I have been neglected by the NHS for 14 years because every single one of my many doctors has failed to tell me to smile and shit more. Until now.
So I’ll be on my way now – I’m going to take my double dose of anti-depressant and glug down a fybogel and I’ll see you at the other side Fibro! I’m cured!