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My Unsent Letter
9 months ago · · disability,
I was told that you only care about whether or not I can do the simplest of jobs. And if I can do the simplest of jobs then I dont deserve disability.
The truth is, maybe I could. If someone could define the simplest job for me.. Walmart greeter? Maybe. For a day or two. But on day three I am going to be so sore I wont be able to stand. My arms will hurt so much they will feel like they are made out of lead. And at the same time I will feel so brittle I won't want to move. I will have to lay in bed for at least three days to make up for those two days of work. And that is if the weather was even nice enough for me to go to "work" when I was scheduled. Because if it is raining my joints are inflamed. If it is humid my fatigue has kicked in. And if it is cold then my pain receptors are working in overdrive. And when I say cold, I mean 50 degrees.
The last time I worked I thought I had the easiest job in the world. I sat with elderly people in their homes and kept them company, helped them around the house with chores. I would work Hospice and hold people's hands while they died. All I had to do was be compassionate. I could do that through the moderate pain I had at the time. But then suddenly the muscles around my lungs didn't want to work and I couldn't breathe walking from one place to another let alone trying to push a wheelchair. Now I can't even walk into my friend's home for a movie night because of dizziness and pain. I will never take care of another person again.
Which I knew was inevitable. I just hoped I had a few more years of being a person left in me. Now i struggle to even do the things i love. It is like every action I take has a price tag stuck to it.
The initial ability is possibly there, but the price is too high.
And what makes this unsendable is that fact that you would read all of it and say "so you could work a bit then.."