Chemi
*.✧ Que Sera, Sera ✧.* | 25y/o fem
- Nov 25, 2025
- 289
Hey, quick sit-rep:
I had major chest surgery on Friday, a 4-hour operation that left me in the hospital since then with at least two more weeks to go before they even consider discharging me, and the doctors say full recovery will take four to six months if everything goes perfectly, which already feels like a cruel joke given how things have gone so far.
The pain has been beyond anything I could have prepared for, a constant deep burning and sharp stabbing that radiates through my entire upper body every time I shift even slightly or try to take a shallow normal breath. My chest swole up so much after the surgery that the pressure made it impossible to breathe and turned the pain into something unbearable, and since then the swelling has been so severe that the 2 drainage tubes coming out of my chest could not keep up with the fluid buildup, causing my chest to balloon until every breath felt shallow and labored, like trying to pull air through a pinched straw while someone presses down hard on my lungs.
Because of a chronic disease I had as a child that disappeared in my late teens and supposedly left me only mildly affected, the hospital staff has decided I am not allowed any strong pain medication at all, even though doctors have prescribed those exact strong opioids to me in the past without any allergic reaction or major complications, and even though I was an opioid addict throughout my entire teenage years and still managed to take those drugs without dying from them.
They keep repeating that they are not willing to take the risk, so all I get is ibuprofen, three times a day at most, while other patients in the same station are on constant morphine or fentanyl drips for far less invasive procedures. I asked for benzos to help calm the panic and anxiety from not being able to breathe properly, reminding the nurse that they are already on my emergency medication plan, and she said she would ask the doctor and be right back, but she never returned, leaving me to ride out the terror and shortness of breath alone.
The shallow breathing caused so much fluid to collect in my lungs that now I have to cough it out every few minutes, and every single cough feels like someone is tearing open fresh surgical wounds with their bare hands, sending waves of agony through my chest that make me sob uncontrollably and prevent me from lying down or finding any position that lets me rest. It is now four in the morning and I am hiding in the bathroom so my coughing does not wake up my roommate, sitting in the cold with tears running down my face because the pain is so intense and so relentless and there is no real relief in sight.
I feel completely alone and mistreated in a way that is almost impossible to put into words, like the system has decided I do not deserve proper care, like my history is being used as an excuse to let me suffer when everyone else gets the help they need. They don't even allow me anti coughing medications.
I am so tired of asking for help and getting nothing but excuses or silence in return, so tired of being in pain that never lets up, so tired of feeling punished for something that is not my fault. I look around this bathroom and see strong enough anchors everywhere, and part of me thinks if I did it here at least the pain would finally stop. I certainly have everything i would need in this room with me, but I know my body would thrash and hit everything during the process and the noise would wake the entire station, so I just sit here crying quietly, waiting for the next cough that will make me want to scream all over again.
Why does everything always have to go this wrong for me? Why can't I ever just get the care I need without having to fight for it or beg for it or hide in a bathroom at four in the morning to cry alone? I don't know how much more of this I can take before something inside me breaks completely. This really, fucking sucks.
(The hospital food decent tho)
I had major chest surgery on Friday, a 4-hour operation that left me in the hospital since then with at least two more weeks to go before they even consider discharging me, and the doctors say full recovery will take four to six months if everything goes perfectly, which already feels like a cruel joke given how things have gone so far.
The pain has been beyond anything I could have prepared for, a constant deep burning and sharp stabbing that radiates through my entire upper body every time I shift even slightly or try to take a shallow normal breath. My chest swole up so much after the surgery that the pressure made it impossible to breathe and turned the pain into something unbearable, and since then the swelling has been so severe that the 2 drainage tubes coming out of my chest could not keep up with the fluid buildup, causing my chest to balloon until every breath felt shallow and labored, like trying to pull air through a pinched straw while someone presses down hard on my lungs.
Because of a chronic disease I had as a child that disappeared in my late teens and supposedly left me only mildly affected, the hospital staff has decided I am not allowed any strong pain medication at all, even though doctors have prescribed those exact strong opioids to me in the past without any allergic reaction or major complications, and even though I was an opioid addict throughout my entire teenage years and still managed to take those drugs without dying from them.
They keep repeating that they are not willing to take the risk, so all I get is ibuprofen, three times a day at most, while other patients in the same station are on constant morphine or fentanyl drips for far less invasive procedures. I asked for benzos to help calm the panic and anxiety from not being able to breathe properly, reminding the nurse that they are already on my emergency medication plan, and she said she would ask the doctor and be right back, but she never returned, leaving me to ride out the terror and shortness of breath alone.
The shallow breathing caused so much fluid to collect in my lungs that now I have to cough it out every few minutes, and every single cough feels like someone is tearing open fresh surgical wounds with their bare hands, sending waves of agony through my chest that make me sob uncontrollably and prevent me from lying down or finding any position that lets me rest. It is now four in the morning and I am hiding in the bathroom so my coughing does not wake up my roommate, sitting in the cold with tears running down my face because the pain is so intense and so relentless and there is no real relief in sight.
I feel completely alone and mistreated in a way that is almost impossible to put into words, like the system has decided I do not deserve proper care, like my history is being used as an excuse to let me suffer when everyone else gets the help they need. They don't even allow me anti coughing medications.
I am so tired of asking for help and getting nothing but excuses or silence in return, so tired of being in pain that never lets up, so tired of feeling punished for something that is not my fault. I look around this bathroom and see strong enough anchors everywhere, and part of me thinks if I did it here at least the pain would finally stop. I certainly have everything i would need in this room with me, but I know my body would thrash and hit everything during the process and the noise would wake the entire station, so I just sit here crying quietly, waiting for the next cough that will make me want to scream all over again.
Why does everything always have to go this wrong for me? Why can't I ever just get the care I need without having to fight for it or beg for it or hide in a bathroom at four in the morning to cry alone? I don't know how much more of this I can take before something inside me breaks completely. This really, fucking sucks.
(The hospital food decent tho)
Last edited:
Big hug! 
