No, I am not here because I feel like hurting myself. I am not suicidal. I may be suicidal if you don't stop asking me if I'm sure I'm okay mentally when I'm a freaking seven and a half on your pain scale and unable to sit down without writhing in pain, but as it stands, I do not have any intention of hurting myself.
Yes, I'm sure.
Yes, I'm taking a mood stabilizer. That doesn't mean you need to drag my dad out from the waiting room to ask him if I'm suicidal because I "look like I'm going through a hard time". Yes, I'm going through a hard time. I hurt. I hurt a lot. Pain is not fun.
I'm also not pregnant, and it is not possible for me to be pregnant, and asking me this five times won't change that. You'd think that said mood stabilizer, which causes severe birth defects if taken during pregnancy, would tip you off. If not that, maybe the fact that I'm a freaking virgin?
Dear Heavily-Accented Doctor:
Yes, I am sure that I have a chronic pain condition. Do you want to see the six-inch-long scar on my hip? No? Then it would be nice if you believed that I have a problem, rather than assuming I just want to get high off whatever painkillers you decide to give me. No, I don't know why you can't access my medical records. I assure you, I am capable of spelling and pronouncing my name, even if you aren't.
Yes, it hurts when you press there. No, doing the same thing five times isn't going to change my answer. Please don't snap at me for crying out, which is a normal person's reaction when someone keeps causing them severe pain.
Also, taking one glance at my X-rays and then snapping "we don't treat chronic pain here!" and throwing a sample pack of Tylenol-3 at me is not helpful, especially when I'm in so much pain that I can't get my pants on because I can't stand up. Why couldn't you have told me about this three hours ago, after I told the triage nurse that I have a chronic pain condition?
Dear X-ray Tech:
My legs do not bend that way.
Thanks for just leaving me on the X-ray table after I cried out when I realized that I couldn't sit up without being in excruciating pain.
Thank you for causing me excruciating pain for a set of X-rays that apparently proclaimed me to be in perfect health, which is obviously not the case.
I really appreciate it.
I really, really appreciate you whisking the wheelchair out of my way right as I tried to sit in it, because I "am perfectly capable of walking by myself," despite the fact that I can't stay on my feet without leaning on the wall.
tl;dr: go to the urgent care clinic after my bad hip made a popping sound and started hurting like a bitch, get told nothing's wrong, have a sample pack of tylenol-3 thrown at me and am told that the urgent care does not treat chronic pain conditions.
also, only one of the doors worked, and it was marked "employees only" and in the back of the building next to the dumpsters.