Monday, October 29, 2012

I Didn't Tell Her To Go Fuck Herself

... but I totally wanted to.

Today I was at the hospital getting some tests done to see if we're doing the right thing when it comes to treating some unpleasant symptoms that won't go away.

I went into the cafeteria and came face to face with one of the health care "professionals" from the MS Clinic. She asked me how I was doing and asked if I was still working.

I told her my employment history in two sentences including details that I had been laid off and was trying to find new employment and she looked me straight in the eye and said,

"Why didn't you just go on disability when you lost your job."

I am sure I mentally killed her with the daggers in my eyes. It took all the power I could muster not to hiss at her when I replied,

"Because I'm not disabled."

And then she got that patronizing look of amused pity and said,

" think you can still work.

Good For You, Dear."

And she smiled the patronizing smirk of someone who thinks they know better and patted me on the arm in the "There, There." fashion.

I said, "It was nice to see you."

I turned on my heel and abandoned the idea of picking up a snack before my appointment.

I run into this A LOT, especially around people connected with the MS Clinic and the MS Society and I get it from MS patients who's disease has progressed further than mine. Fortunately I don't get it from my neurologist and family doctor. There's this thing, almost like a need for people with this disease or in this work to lower my expectations for my own life... as if I really need help with that.

Even though it took every fibre of my being not to say it...

I didn't tell them to go fuck themselves.


  1. Death to patronizing assholes. Damn.

    When I was really really sick in the spring, I absolutely relished my time off of work. . . for about a week. By the end of the first week, I was picking up random household projects because I was starting to get stir crazy. By the end of the third week I could barely wait to get back to work I was so sick of being bored and sick. I would have been crawling the walls if it had gone on much longer. Nevermind how much I hated feeling helpless and useless.

    I'm glad you aren't letting people tell you whether or not you're an invalid; you aren't scooting over and letting somebody else drive. Though I don't know, you may have had a little too much self-control. Actually setting her on fire with your eyes could have been an excellent learning experience for everybody.

  2. I worked 40+ hrs/wk after my MS DX, 14 years---at Starbuck's I got dirty looks in my scooter, one day a woman behind me in line said, "That is where our tax dollars go, people on disability buying Starbuck's coffee." It was all I could do to not blow up. Just being in a mobility device doesn't mean you are too disabled to work. It was a heart breaking day when I had to go on SSDI...18yrs at that job, every one of them while I had MS. I loved it, but my body let me know when it was over, I wanted to go out at the top of my game, not just showing up for a check, which I am sure they would have done. Another symptonm of MS: THICK SKIN (oooo, my next post title)