Yep, it’s real. And nope, sorry, you can’t buy my drugs!
Cake / youtube.com
Almost seven years ago, a work injury left me with a nasty disability called "Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy," aka R.S.D. The short version is that all the nerves from the shoulder to the fingertips of my (once) dominant hand and arm now misinterpret everything as pain.
Pain is a constant in my life; it's just a question of how bad it will be on any given day. There are some things that I know will make it worse, such as being touched, the weather, abrupt temperature changes, and stress, but there are also times where it flares up for no reason. There's no preventing it, no real control of it, no cure for it.
One thing I didn't count on, however, is how often I have to field insensitive comments from people who probably mean well, but just don't understand the nature of my illness.
Here are a few things I really wish I never had to hear again:
"Is it contagious?"
Nope, it's not a cold!
"What do you mean you can't work? You could do something."
Not many employers are eager to hire someone that is completely unreliable, may or may not show up for work on any given day, and may end up leaving at any point during the shift, due to pain flares that make functioning impossible.
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