Feeling “Like the Dog…”

The first story (snippet) is an excerpt from a story I am working on (indefinitely- LOL) and although you may not understand why I’m starting off with this… um- it’ll come to you pretty soon. [wink]

“Wilson! For the last time- will you be quiet?” Harmon was simply at his wits end. If that dog didn’t stop barking and yelping he would possibly kill that animal. Well, he wouldn’t kill him. He loved Wilson and enjoyed his company- especially during the last few years. But can’t a man get some sleep around here? Harmon’s thought were interrupted when once again the night was filled with angry barks and growls and was that dog actually howling?

Please! Thought Wilson, as he whined and paced back and forth in the Kitchen. Not knowing what else to do, the small black terrier-mix ran to his owner and stood up on his hind legs and whined louder- more intently while pressing his front paws against his Master’s legs, begging Harmon to pay attention to what he was trying to tell him.

“Stop, Wilson. Get down” was his only response. It’s not that his owner, Harmon was a bad man or unloving towards Wilson. Since the day he arrived, Harmon has always been loving and playful with him.

Even after the Misses went away, Harmon seemed to need and want Wilson around even more. But tonight when Wilson heard, no- felt- sensed that there was urgency… danger outside, Harmon was not happy that he’d been awaken and did not understand the seriousness of the situation.

“Wilson-” Harmon’s voice became gentler, calming “I’ve looked outside, I’ve checked every window- heck, I’ve been in every room in the house. There is nothing going on. No one is outside.” Harmon bent over and picked up his little friend, despite the pups protests and started for the upstairs bedroom.

“Now come on, Boy. You can sleep with me and we’ll have a nice breakfast in the morning.” Wilson enjoyed sharing Harmon’s breakfast with him and hoped that breakfast really would take place in the morning. But as his owner stroked his head and ears, continuing toward the bedroom… away from the outside presence- Wilson knew he was right and that his owner probably should have listened to him.

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Sitting in the small, white and confining room Joy felt as if every hope, every longing to be well hinged on this one visit. You’re being foolish, she thought to herself. This isn’t the first time and it most likely won’t be the last. True- she had been to several physicians prior to this one, but maybe- just maybe he’s the one.

Just sitting there, waiting was causing so much pain. Joy shifted her weight on the chair, trying to find a more comfortable position. Why, she thought, do doctors who treat patients in pain have the most uncomfortable waiting chairs in the world? As the door opened, she jumped- feeling a little guilty about the chair thought and then was simply thankful that mental observations and complaints were silent!

“Well, how are we doing today?” Such a simple and rhetorical question. Every doctor she had ever visited started the visit out the same way: how are we doing today? How do you answer that? Fine? Okay? Not good?

Is this question part of the visit or a social formality to be quickly gotten out of the way? If she said good or okay- wouldn’t that just be a lie? Do you really get lie-bumps on your tongue when you, uh- lie? Joy opted for an escapism. “Well…” was all she said, hoping he would take it from there and solve all of her problems.

Flipping the medical chart open and thumbing through the thick stack of paperwork, it seemed as if the doctor were reading it for the first time. “So,” he began, sitting down on the little stool with wheels and scooting closer, “What can we do for you today?”

Good grief, Joy thought and answered slowly, tentatively. “You had me go for a full work-up of tests and scans and I’m here for the follow-up.” Holding her breath she waited for the answer- or answers- or at least something to validate or explain the pains and problems and issues she’d been dealing with for so long now. What will he say, she thought to herself. Please, please let him say he knows what’s wrong with me.

“Well, the good news is we didn’t find anything abnormal with any of the images and your blood work was fine. What’s your main complaint?”

Joy screamed- loud inwardly. Why, why won’t anyone believe me- there is something wrong. I was fine- healthy for years and active and now can hardly move!

Just staring at him and holding back the tears that threatened to expose how hurt and frustrated she was was all she could do. Not waiting for a response, the doctor opened the folder again and said, “We could try changing your Anti-depressant or we have room to increase your Vicodin some more. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

The second story is really a compilation of several visits- one just as horrifying as the previous but it occurred to me last night that the part of the story I’m working on was the perfect analogy of what so many people (including me) go through when what they are suffering with or experiencing can’t be seen on an x-ray or under a microscope.

I’m not going to tell you what happens in the story with Harmon and Wilson. [LOL] Don’t ask me. I will say they are only a small part of the novel I’m writing and ‘hope’ it will be finished, um- never mind; I don’t know when!

But Wilson’s dilemma in trying to make Harmon understand that there really is something wrong- whether or not he sees, hears or knows it- it’s real.

My dilemma, along with many other men and women is that we know- know that something is not right, something is wrong within our physical body… but no one can see it yet; no one can find what it is yet; no one has been able to help us yet. What is the purpose of this entry? Perhaps it’s to create an awareness for the term Invisible Illness.

Maybe it’s to spark some interest in more research to finding answers for what is causing the symptoms; and not just label the mystery health issues as chronic pain. Or it simply could be a way for me to vent, release and heal myself of the day-to-day abuse of living with severe pain and health problems.

Maybe it’s just me hoping that someone, somewhere will listen and believe me and not just pat me on the head, up the dose and send me to bed and promise me breakfast… like the dog.

Invisible Illness Awareness Week is September 14-20, 2009. What can you and I do to help make more people more informed and understand the issues, problems and uncertainties surrounding it?

National Invisible Chronic Illness Awareness Week is probably the single most important issue in my life currently. It is important of raising the level of information and understanding of the problems when living with an unseen adversary and its effects. If it sounds like I am making this matter seem as if it is life and death- it is because for me… it just may be.

Joy lives in a small town in the Midwest, USA. She and her husband have three adopted children whom they home school. Prior to becoming ill, Joy was the System Admin for the local library full-time and part-time worked and volunteered at the local Homeless Shelter/Food Pantry.

When not teaching the children, Joy spends her time blogging about her continued journey to wellness and writing fiction, painting and enjoying the world of The Sims 3. On days she is not physically able to participate in hobbies- she is comforted and encouraged by God’s Word, her family and her fur-babies: a pack of Bichon Frise.

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