I was born with a congenial defect. Ehler Danlos, of the classical variety (probably. but we'll elaborate on that).
My first dislocation occurred when I was 12. My front tire on my bike was crooked and it led to a violent fall. I dislocated my shoulder. I was scolded for causing a scene for attention, because I had fallen in front of a policeman's house. Their family had been outside, helped me back up, fixed my bike tire and offered to drive me home. I biked home because I feared my parent's reaction. It was still poor.
They didn't take me to the doctor. I struggled in school, but the dislocation reduced on it's own. They always do, because of the elasticity of my ligaments and tendons.
That same year, I ended up with a broken toe at school because a kid who had beef with me stomped on my foot. They had no choice but to take me to the ER because my foot was swollen and purple. I'm given topical pain killer, of which never worked, and a special shoe. No crutches. It never healed correctly.
At 13, I was doing the cha cha slide at the school dance. It was for tge 8th graders about to move up to high school. At the end of the song, my knee buckles in and I collapse. I had to crawl to the nearby school deputy, they put me in the school wheelchair, and the principle had to wheel me to my parent's car when they arrived.
I was laughed at for depending on the walls for support, and scolded for causing a scene for attention. I have vivid memory of my step father yelling at me for falling down in the hallway when we made it home that evening.
I was never taken to the ER. I was forced to walk stairs on that injury when it was still fresh, even.
From that point on, I was slow. I was picked on for having a permanent limp. I couldn't run in PE anymore, and got bad grades for not completing the weekly mile run in under 15 minutes. I had trouble making it to my classes on time.
I had been diagnosed with asthma when I was 5, which honestly should've been excuse enough, it excused other students, but my parents had already gaslit me into believing I had imagined it all. I was the hypochondriac... same with my childhood ADHD diagnosis. None of my teachers were ever informed of my asthma, so I must've been struggling to breathe because I'm out of shape. Piggy child.
During my freshman year, I trip going up a staircase. I slam my shin into concrete and can hardly walk at all. FINALLY I'm taken to an ER. They tell me I'm overreacting, it's just a temporary bump. That leg still can't absorb shock anymore without my shin crumpling me. I mentioned my old shoulder injury during that visit, but my mom lies about it only being a month old. Standard X-Rays find nothing so they think I'm lying about the pain. Again.
Throughout high school, teachers had to start moving me closer amd closer to the front of the class. I was struggling to take notes and see what was on the board. I was told repeatedly that I should see an optometrist. I begged my parents. "You were always so obsessed with glasses, we know you aren't having real issues."
My high school kept forcing me into PE classes as my weight became a more glaring problem, thinking that shaming me into more physical exercise would solve it. I climbed up to 340 pounds. When I refused to participate more and more, I was lazy. Piggy child. Shamu the whale.
I ended up with a number of neglected sprains in high school, a couple of subluxations. I manage on my own, but everything takes a toll.
My 19th birthday is coming up, after I've graduated. I'm still dependent. My mom asks what I want for my birthday. I look her in the eyes and tell her I want to be able to see and read again. She finally takes me to the optometrist. I'm put in glasses, but they get my prescription wrong.
I run away half a year later. I end up at my grandparents. My dad gets in contact, manipulates and lies to get me to move across the US to live with him. He has a room for me, he says. He'll help me get into the job force, he says. I'm abandoned in a homeless shelter within a month.
I manage to get myself on Medicaid and spend years, while homeless, desperately trying to get the healthcare I need. One doctor tells me my symptoms line up with Ehler Danlos. I do research and fight years for genetic testing. I'm refused.
I keep dislocating joints with more and more frequency, more severity. I've torn both of my MCLs, I've dislocated both knees repeatedly, both shoulders repeatedly, I've subluxated my wrists and ankles. I end up in an emergency clinic because my long-time back pain had become crippling. X-Rays reveal a compression fracture, spinal stenosis, and kyphoscoliosis.
I'm in too much pain, and too fragile at this point to keep trying to care for myself. I ended up trafficked and kept as a sexual/domestic servant for a few years. I end up in the ER again because of untreated ovary pain crippling me. They give me a dangerous dose of morphine against my will, do an unconsentual internal ultrasound, and "find nothing". The morphine affected my vascular system because of my weak, overly elastic veins and preexisting but undiagnosed heart condition. I end up nearly having a heart attack and am diagnosed with Angina.
I was forced to move back in with my parents. I escape the man who had held me hostage. I still receive no medical support. I'm tormented daily by them.
If I had been supported amd treated as a child, I'd be in college. I'd be living where I want to, independently. I would've been able to have the preventative care needed in my youth to prevent a painful adulthood. Instead, I'm almost 26 with no job experience, no education, and trapped living with the very people who ruined my life before it could start. I walk with a cane, my spine is still broken, one difficult fall could leave me paralysed from the waist down and my risk of having a life-threatening medical emergency is HIGH. Parents shouldn't have so much power that they can just choose to ruin lives.
