Urban Dismay

urban-dismay

The city streets

look oh so sleek

but only when

it rains

Below the glitterati

Porsche

Benz

Maserati

In the parking basement

remain

Below even that

expensive, unreal mat

broken people

who never

have gain

No cash in the casino

No boat in the marina

And no money

to hide

their pain

© Kait King, 2016

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Does Anyone Ever

Does anyone ever

Does anyone else

ever feel

That this world

isn’t real?

That you know

you don’t belong

Perhaps the ‘Big Guy’

got it wrong

This is not

where you’re meant

to be

Running on the

hamster wheel –

trapped

and not free

Do you ever

think to yourself:

“I am the ostracized alien

I am the one

who doesn’t

fit in!”

And decide to make

a concerted effort

But remain

disappointed

So you retreat

and think,

“Fuck it”

© Kait King, 2016

Be Careful What You Wish For

be careful what u wish for

She gazes across an icy panacea

The kestrel above, calls when he sees her

The sun, though present, is fractionated

It’s warmth not worth being appreciated

A tumble of Schnauzers race to greet her

A ten out of ten on the Cute-O-Meter

Gazing liquid eyes desperate to be touched

It was nobodys’ wonder why she loved them so much

Their little furry faces had such alot to say

She couldn’t imagine being without them every single day

Although things weren’t perfect in a very imperfect life

And she would have no more children and may never be a wife

But the beauty all around her and the freedom that she loved

Was all that she had asked for, from the Universe above

© Kait King, 2015

The Real Zombies

the real zombies

I live on an island and we are very much an outdoors crowd, particularly water sports – besides swimming; I loved horse riding, kick-boxing and wrestling. But now I find I’m pretty much a forced recluse due to the inoperable and permanent nerve damage from 2 failed surgeries, which affects my left side in a chronic-acute-neuralgic-pain-syndrome kind of way :\

I call myself a cave bear as I really am just hibernating…. or am I in a cocoon ready to show the newly morphed me? Instead I am left with what feels like a bad experiment. So I don’t go out much – you don’t when you deal with chronic pain – it’s exhausting. It’s just too painful, hard, embarrassing and awkward to go out.

Anyhoo, back to the story. I went to talk to my shrink for an hour today – she is lovely; spiritual, intuitive, and…. hold onto your hats, she does not believe in CBT (cognitive behavioural therapy). Instead she believes in the meta-conscience, an intriguing concept and much more of a fit for me.

So I understand it’s all about identifying myself now – not who I was, but who I am now. I am not sure of what defines me now – in all entirety. I was absolutely convinced I had found my calling when I joined the police with the goal to help our kids. So my faith in me is shaken and I’m finding out who I am as this other me. I know I will get through this because this is my journey – somehow there will be some sense in all of this pain. I was on enormous amounts of methadone in 1998 along with gabapentin, fentanyl and a dozen other medications. I couldn’t even shower myself or brush my teeth. For years I was a zombie until something inside me said “Kait, this is not you – this is not who you are and this is not what should define you.” So I took a long time weaning myself off the medication and I survived when I was supposed to die, I managed to have a life when I was told my life was over. It’s a horror story and not one I want to write but I got through that – dealt with pain on a daily basis through no help of anyone else and carved a life for myself and my son, who had lost me for nearly 5 years already.

Then I give up everything to go to get my degree in Criminology. My son is grown up and doing his own thing. I graduate in 2011 – start my job and slip on my front step. Need a discectomy – it goes badly wrong and triggers old pain syndrome from lung nerve damage of 1998 into its rabid self. I’m in the high dependency unit again – major drugs. I begged everyone around me that if anything should happen they are not to put me on that poisonous methadone. They put me on morphine instead and so the hell has rolled on for the past two years with no positive outcomes. There has been a barrage of medications again and I don’t want to have to take them. Sometimes I feel like a failure when I have to succumb because I am in so much pain but I don’t know what else to do. And the knives I put in my own back become innumerable in this too.

So yeah – I use self-hypnosis and breathing techniques – I do my best not to take medication. It dumbs me down and kills any motivation toward anything. It kills you on the inside too so you don’t have any spirit to feel human any more or to fight for a life – it consumes you in a rolled up carpet, a dark cupboard and deaf/mute existence. I see so many people who are left dependent on heavy medication and with no existence – these are the true zombies of the world. These are the walking dead, the emotionally unfeeling, uncaring and unknowing. It’s almost a way of keeping things quiet….Don’t let them get you 😉

But I’ve already paid!

Already paid

With some leftover tea

I chuck some painkillers at me

A certain kind of guilt and

a definitive disgust wash over me

I fight every day

to keep a smile on my face

being strong, overcome

I have a new life to embrace

I know this is not what

I signed up for

I’ve paid the full price

for so much more

But I guess some you win

and some you lose

So I experience my life

in a different pair of shoes

But I’m still so sure

I was destined for so much more

so much more

I’ve already paid for

© Kait King, 2015

The Double Edged Sword

double egd sword

My sister went with me weeks ago 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.

Here, take the knife

here take the knife

Carve the edges off your haunting pain

With time as sharp as a knife

the moments slide by in an agonizing grind

You’ll have this moment for the rest of your life

My feet sunk deep in a cement grip of permanence

a ball and chain of grief connects my soul to the earth

My bones and skin just vehicle remnants

My soul will have rebirth

© Kait King, 2015

Among the dead

among the dead

So the understanding being

that I don’t have to explain myself

that the sky is blue

and life is just because

Now the problem being

that I don’t understand what it is

when you say what you do

when you can’t do it

But the over-lying factor

is the way in which we move

among the dead, the living

dance alone

And I ask myself the question

which life do I fit best in

while you smoke that cigarette

with a flare

© Kait King, 2015

I just want it to end

i just want it to end

So I’m sent back and forth

and around again

to specialists and surgeons

who say it’s in my brain

the wiring’s fucked

Is what they say

because a butcher unfortunately

hacked away

at your hope

your dreams

your aspirations

your purpose

you

Forgiveness and acceptance

words to deal with

spilling your guts makes you better

I think that’s just a myth

to stop me

hold me

trap me in belief

I just want it to end

© Kait King, 2015

Loss/values

People experience loss in very different ways. People experience what they value differently too. Depending on what you are taught to value, is how you will experience that loss. If, when growing up, you are taught the difference between giving, taking and sharing we form a basis for understanding value. If you are taught to value money and possessions, that these things make you the person you are, things define you. What if you go bankrupt and lose everything – will you commit suicide? Money and success has represented you and your life.

But if money was not the valued commodity and family was – if you lost everything materialistic, wouldn’t your family or friends have the most important value to you, not your image of success? Family and friends are there when nothing and nobody else is…

How do you define yourself? What is really important to you? How do you represent yourself in the world?

Just food for thought….