The Double Edged Sword

double egd sword

My sister went with me, a few years ago now, to an insurance assessment (for want of a better word)! And I came away needing to do eleventeen blood tests and pee in a bottle etc. I also came away feeling angry as I believed this meeting was supposed to have been to assess the level of disability I suffered from the nerve damage, acute chronic neuralgic pain syndrome, epidural fibrosis, hypersensitivity and arachnoidosis (due to two failed surgeries – this is in a nutshell). I wasn’t supposed to be diagnosed again, surely! Why hadn’t the specialist received the right instructions as in: this is an assessment not a diagnosis – we know she’s fucked we just want you to tell us by how much. So he tests and pricks and squeezes and listens – asks a million questions and of course, being paid by the insurance company the implication is that I have had pre-existing conditions and that I was susceptible to this nerve damage = no pay out for Kait – no way to fix Kait – permanent and inoperable – Yippee for the insurance company – bad luck for me.

Anyway I kept my cool, I went for those tests, to more doctors, more reminders of how hard it is to get around, how dependant I am in certain circumstances, how limited I am – yadda yadda yadda. My sister takes time off from work again to take me to the second meeting which we have had to wait 5 weeks to get. We are shuffled into his office and he slowly goes through all eleventeen tests and …. all of my tests have come back clear.

I have always been fit and healthy and I have always known that I have never had a pre-existing condition. This is what they tried to do with me 17 years ago when I had my first treatment injury. I was supposed to have microsurgery – that’s what I signed for and what was explained to me by the registrar. I had a collapsed lung at the time so it was serious.

So I go into surgery and a practising thoracic surgeon who is not qualified yet, butchers me and gives me a major thoracotomy – stitches the tubes into my nerves in my lung . Then the tubes that drain off the excess fluid from your lung as you heal, must be removed after 3 or so days, the nurse pulls it out in one movement as you breathe out and supposedly out comes the tube….and yes the tube came out, after it was yanked so hard the nerves were dragged to the outside of the wound from the tube placement. Long story short – I am sent to hell. I never really got back. I am given several epidurals up and down my spine, Pethidine shots and all sorts of crap to control it. Apparently I almost died.

In order to be able to get home after 17 days in ICU I end up on mountains of heavily monitored medication like methadone, fentanyl, gabapentin, and loads of other stuff to just keep me like a zombie. So now it was a living hell, no medical support. I weaned myself off all of that shit over 5 years and they had told me I would be on it forever – that I would be an invalid for the rest of my life. I wasn’t that kind of person so I healed myself, taught myself, coped myself – with no support whatsoever from any medical background, just my amazing family who had to put up with me. That was in 1998 and then another failed surgery in 2013.

But what was interesting was when I argued that I had signed for minor keyhole surgery in 1998 I was told that because of my history of endometriosis the surgeon had to perform this open major surgery. Another scapegoat situation. I have never had endometriosis in my life before or have ever been diagnosed with it. It didn’t matter what I said I was stonewalled and back then just wanted to get my life back. No one guided or helped, they just left me hanging.

The implication I have been living with for the past two years has been also to try and identify that I had some pre-existing condition…but no, nothing, no heart attack enzymes, auto- immune deficiencies, muscular dystrophy, diabetes, my bloods and liver were 100%. Nicky and I knew this – this is why it has been such a devastating blow to be fit and healthy and then for someone to ruin your life. Twice…. But in trying to stay positive – the radium injection x-ray I had which highlighted all of the nerve damage that has been caused by these botched surgeries only made it even more crystal clear that the surgeons did the damage – my body has absolutely nothing wrong with it except for the damage they did to it. In which case, one would hope, the insurance company surely can’t deny that this is not my fault and it’s high time I was paid what was due. When you pay your insurance fees your whole working life to protect yourself from poverty, dependency and for every other reason you can think of, it really stings when you have no clout and see your life becoming pointless.

I have often felt re-victimised due to the treatment of the so-called treatment facilities that I have had to participate in. Anyway, as good as the news is that there is absolutely nothing wrong with me, it is equally as devastating as I should be living a normal healthy life, just like I was. I want my job back, I want to do my Masters – yet I still owe for my Criminology degree and get penalised again. It’s a double-edged sword – almost like if only I had some disease to be the answer for this happening to me – not just “a treatment injury” that is only worth so many dollars to someone who knows nothing about me….and worth absolutely zero to the surgeons who wouldn’t even remember my name.

I place the brain in its’ skull….

Place brain in skull

When I finally find my rhythm and I am the one eager to push forward. When I can’t help but mould and mash a character of no charm, or carefully fine tune a delicate life, an angry spirit, that tortured soul….nothing can stop me. Time is of zero meaning or consequence. Food and water are not necessities, they are interruptions – as is anything else that must drag me from my Frankensteinian stupor. My frenzied, impassioned creation can sometimes make me feel overwhelmingly powerful or incredibly tiny as I realise how childlike my perception might be…or is it drama queen stuff? Not naivete…surely….not another avenue to explore…surely. Let me write it out of me in some shape or form so I can recognise it in some shape or form, not just a passing thought….a forgotten idea, feeling…story. Place the electrodes and blast it into the light, out to the night, encompassed in fright…write, write, write

© Kait King, 2015

My SupaSista

SupaSista

This is for my amazing SupaSista

Who has been my strength throughout

My bestest friend and my sister

I just couldn’t do without

Tea and piklet scarfing

Feeling handbags and clothes

Sharing everything like it’s with myself

Things no one else knows

I’ve been at my lowest

Boy that was lowest low

And there she was like a shining beacon

Loving me and letting me know

Happy Birthday to my incredible, dynamic, smart, funny and beautiful sister – I can’t tell you how blessed I feel that you’re a part of MY family! I love you so much xxx

When you let me in

beautiful-immortal-vampires-eternal-lovers

When we are

touching skin

when you have

let me in

With a dream-like

essence

I feel your

presence

the heat from

your skin

when you let me in

I know there

are no lies

I can see it

in your blue eyes

I can feel it

from your mouth

I can hear it in

your blazing skin

when you let me in

the goose bumps on

your flesh

and our kiss

can only express

we are so lost

it must be a sin

but only when

you let me in

© Kait King, 2015

The 3 Little Piggies and other schizzle

thank you 1

Thanks to all of my followers, fans, friends and family 🙂 I really appreciate all of your follows, comments, advice and shares. I hope you enjoy my blog and my recent thriller killer novel on Amazon called The 3 Little Piggies (read for FREE on Kindle) and now 2 poetry books, Supine Exsanguinations and unseen poetry, My See-Through Mind also available on Amazon (please check out the Kait King on Amazon button on my site). I need reviews – the good, the bad and the ugly – please don’t be shy!:)

I’ve really enjoyed writing a blog and getting some of my stuff out there, actually it’s over 300 pieces of writing so maybe more than just some 🙂 Thank you for reading my blog, for commenting and letting me know how you feel and what you think – I love it and feel like I may have found a place in the blogosphere.

It really does get easier as I share more and realise those who read me, share these things with me as well. I have become comfortable with the WordPress tools and applications. I have been fortunate to have had only very minimal negative contact from anyone and that was a while ago, when I first started here. So again, thank you to all of you wonderful people who have made it easier for me to bare my soul! And also to all of you amazing people who are brave enough to put yourselves out there too!

Thank you – without you,
my life would be inkless

Suicide – is it really a free ticket out?

Suicide

With a delicate stillness

and a quiet noise

with porcelain perfection

and perfect China poise

the body is supine

lying dead on the floor

supine in exsanguination

a choice to become Death’s whore

Ruby red your favourite colour

you wear it very well

although I won’t see you out much

a story we will tell

Did you get off scot-free?

Did you truly escape?

Or will you have to pay your dues

and return to this landscape…

© Kait King, 2015

A Seeker

A seeker

I don’t want to be here

I don’t want to be here alone

I don’t want to be here alone in my empty zone

I want to love

I want to love again

I want to love again and be free of all this pain

I can’t do it

I can’t just let it go

I can’t just let it go and pretend I didn’t know

My soul aches

My soul and my heart ache badly

They ache for man’s cruel inhumanity

I’m a seeker

I’m a seeker of love, peace and harmony

I’m a seeker – please tell me you’ll follow me

© Kait King, 2015

The Unknown

The unknown

And confusion rages

like a winter storm

pushing through my

veins and there’s nothing

I can think

Although there is plenty

I could do

But the storm is

blinding and vicious

And I’m thinking of

my life

Like between a rock

and a hard place

And no, I’m not trapped

I’m not unhappy…

with right now

As the ever-bleeding

heart I’m eased

into the terror of

the unknown

It’s not a bad dream

If it was I wouldn’t know if

I really want to wake up –

Does this just mean for me

that it’s time to face reality?

© Kait King, 2016

The doyley of pain

Doyley of pain

So I’m asked to describe how I concentrate to write or focus on anything when pain is such a major contributor in my life and a permanent. I thought about it for a second. The doctor had used the whiteboard and drawn “my brain” with pain in the background and words like focus, concentration, motivation scribbled at the front with arrows looking like they were trying to get into my brain. Understandably these things all present a challenge but the way I see it, is that the pain is like an intricate piece of lace that is draped across my brain. In between the detailed lacy gaps things like concentration, motivation and focus do filter through. And depending on how tight the stitching is sometimes it is easier for those things to flow through and other times not so much. This might make sense to some of you – I’m not sure.

Also I’m not big on the word hope. I don’t want hope – I want it sorted now or I will just live with it until some such miracle cure arrives – but I’m not spending my life or any time at all with the hope that I will be fine again. It is what it is. They say hope is a word used for people who don’t want to accept. That is not who I want to be – I know a part of me longs for my body to be pain free but that is just not how it is.

I believe that determination comes from my soul and I will carve my way through whatever it is the universe chooses to share with me and be grateful at the same time – because even though I can’t walk very far, I can write – just a different double u (w)…. 🙂

© Kait King, 2015