Saturday night was a disaster for me. I woke up at 4 AM, due to immense pain in my abdomen. After suffering for almost an hour, I decided to wake up my mother. The pain was unbearable. Waited some more till morning, and visited the doctor. This year I have been to hospital and clinic almost five times. It’s always the same, medicines, tests and needles. I’m just sick and tired of being sick and tired. What angers me up more, is when I am in physical pain, and my family associates it with depression. Yes, I get angry and tensed, but it has nothing to do with my medical condition. Since every serious thing ends up in a funny way with my family, here is how I actually feel.
When you don’t want to visit the family doctor:
Yes, I hate you Mr. Doctor. I don’t eat junk or fried food, I definitely don’t do tobacco; never, I don’t get the privilege to eat outside. All I get is home cooked, less spicy, more healthy food. Tell me something I don’t know, stop listing something that has nothing to do with my condition.
When you’re afraid of Injections and Medical tests:
Ah, a needle my worst nightmare, I won’t get it inside me unless my mother is standing beside me.
But you are not a kid. Yeah, I’m 23, so what? Can’t I be afraid? And the nightmare continues, If I am asked to take my clothes off for some random medical test, never gonna happen.
When you can’t swallow medicine:
What’s that, a tablet? Looks like to me, a bomb. Give me syrup instead.
When you’re in pain, and someone makes fun of it:
Aw, baby, everything will be fine. You get depressed, so easily. It’s nothing.