My name is Vernon Farmer, and this is my pain journal. I was advised to put this together by my developmental disability advocate, Howard Marks, who can be reached at 808-936-4061.


    I was injured in a work accident about 7 and a half years ago, in mid November. It happened at a farm Co-Op, on my third day on the job. There was an exposed auger (think large metal corkscrew) used to move corn and beans around the co op and this auger was exposed at one spot in the middle of a walkway (OSHA violated them and made them fix it).  I stepped in to this auger, and my leg was pulled in to it, and the words they used were extensive degloving. I lost the bone that sticks out on the outside of my right ankle, it was just sliced right out by the blade, and my leg was "degloved" about half way up my calf. It severed several tendons and ligaments, and because of this I have no muscle control over my right foot. It just hangs there. I also have no tactile sensation on the surface of my skin, and constant pain in my ankle, even with all of the medications I've tried over the years, it only seems to dull it, or make me not care so much. Due to the total lack of control over my ankle "drop foot" it changes the way that I walk, forcing me to shift my weight to my other leg, even with the use of a cane, my gait is still severely altered, and this has made my knees, hips, and back all hurt so badly that I can't stand for more than ten minutes at a time. I will simply sit on the ground where ever I may be when it gets to that point, which doesn't take too long at all.




    This constant pain, and the lack of access to proper medical care has caused me so much, well, distress is a weak word, but I will use that. I have tried to work many places, and the pain always gets so bad eventually, that I end up losing my job. This has caused me to be homeless a number of times. I was lucky enough to meet a beautiful girl who loves me, Rachel, and am now not homeless anymore. We now have a son together, Joey, who will be 3 in July.


    On monday through thursday, he goes to daycare. He used to stay home with me, but I couldn't handle taking care of him, to be honest, as much as it kills me to say, I can't take care of my son 7 days a week. My body just can not keep up. So after many problems we found him daycare, and he will start preschool soon.


   Now, having said all of that to give you an idea, here is my day to day life.  I hurt so bad that I can never sleep at night. I toss and turn all night trying to find some way to help me sleep, usually to no avail, so I will try to go and watch tv, or read a book or something. Just something to occupy me. I hate it. I am staying up right now writing this at 3 am because I can't F-ing sleep. I stay up all night depressed, trying to find some way to distract myself, feel better, SOMETHING TO AVOID THIS.

 So when morning rolls around, and here I am wild eyed, feeling like utter shit, on the days my son goes to daycare, I will end up staying up for however many hours, until I am so exhausted I can't even move, then I pass out like a rock for a couple hours until Rachel and Joey get home from work and daycare, and I spend the rest of the day from around 4pm until 9pm, when Joey goes to bed, trying to enjoy the time I have with him.

That's where the real problem is, for me. He wants me to carry him, he wants me to run around with him, it's time for him to learn to ride a bike, we have one, but dad can't run with him to teach him how. Dads lucky to play catch with him for more than a few minutes without having to sit down.

 So mainly what I do is I sit in an office chair, and roll around the house in that. That's pretty much what I've done ever since I got hurt. Whenever I go to a store, I have to use the motorized carts. I can't go to stores without them. I have my own wheel chair at home that I use for days when it gets really bad. I am constantly stretching my ankle, just to compensate for the drop foot. It makes it hurt so much. Just sitting around it hurts.


 I've been on several medications, morphine never helped, hydrocodone never helped, the array of anti-inflammatory drugs I've had didn't help. One doctor tried to put me on cymbalta, since it had some good off label usage results, and that shit made me CRAZY. And also didn't help the pain. Now, the anti inflammatories do help my joint fluidity some, I do better on them than off, and I now take naproxen daily, OTC. Opiates do help my back pain, but after the last doctor I was seeing, I'd rather avoid that.


Speaking of that, I was discharged by my doctor before for telling the nurse that I hurt so bad I want to go to mexico and just get my leg amputated, and get a prosthetic and be done with it and be NORMAL. They took me seriously, thought I was really going, discharged me as a patient, and cut off all medication. When I called up there trying to straighten it out, they were rude with me, and uncaring that I was going through withdrawals for drugs that THEY pushed on me. I told her I didn't WANT narcotics in the first place, having already been cut off by ANOTHER doctor.


 I do not want the addiction withdrawal cycle. I will admit to drinking from time to time, heavily when it gets really bad, simply because I have no other way of stopping the pain, or easing it in any way. I don't know what to do, and booze is right around the corner for five bucks. I understand the risks of alcoholism, and I prefer the occasional drink when it gets to the point that I simply can't take the pain anymore and need relief than a constant opiate regimen. that I will eventually be taken off of for whatever retarded reason, and made to withdrawal and hurt WORSE and get SICK.



 Anyway, on the days I DO have my son, I continue to stay up, drinking loads of coffee just to stay awake and be there for him. We spend our days watching TV and playing video games together, reading books etc. When it comes time for him to eat something, his mom always has something pre-prepared for me to just heat in the microwave. That's all I ever eat too, microwave food, unless Rachel cooks it for me. She usually gets home around 4pm, so I will do his breakfast and lunch.


 Rachel does all of the house work and yard work, as much as I hate it.



  Now, every last bit of this, every second of every day, I am reminded in some way that I am not able, I can not do, I can not experience this or that thing. Teaching my kid to ride his bike. Mowing my lawn.Going rollerskating with them. I go, but I sit and watch. My son is very very independent because of my disability, and inability to do many things for him. He can do so much himself, and it makes me so proud of him, and it also breaks my heart.


 Most of the time I feel like I am not good enough. Not a good enough husband, not a good enough dad, not a good enough man. I sit here in this fucking chair day and night just trying to deal with all of this, and I've gotten so bitter and angry and depressed over the years.

The pain has only gotten worse as the years go on, making more and more parts of me hurt, to the point I don't even get out of bed most days. I lay there playing games and watching tv, or just sleeping. And every time one of these major events pops up, some doctor treats me badly, or the fact they are still going after me for child support for my 10 year old daughter, which was paid in full up until my accident, or the fact that I am really nothing more than a financial drain on my family, I can't even properly care for my own son, I only cost more money and can't contribute anything of value to the house hold, the fact that I can't get anyone to take me seriously, this has, and I FUCKING HATE to admit this, but I have seriously thought about ending my own life.

 There. I said it. It's too hard. I can't do anything. No one gives a fuck, not anyone that can help me anyway, and my family WOULD be better off without me. I cost too much money, I am terrible influence on my son, being angry and depressed all the time, I try to put on a smiley face, but it's so hard, and the boy is far from dumb. Everyone keeps telling me that I can work, what about a sit down job, etc, and I can't even keep it together enough to get out of bed and take a shower most days.

 So sometimes I start to think they are right, and I find a job, and work as hard as I can, until I literally can not walk, and end up losing the job because I can't even go to the bathroom standing up. And then this makes me sooooo angry. The fact that no one believes me, and I push myself so hard trying to do right, and end up hurting so badly. And then this leads to extreme depression.

 I've called a suicide hotline a few times in the last six months. They don't really help, I don't really want to die, I am too scared, but sometimes, yeah, I really do want to just die, and I know that's so retarded, and I know the right thing to do is call someone and talk, so that's what I do. There was a time years ago, right before I became homeless for the first time, when everything was so terrible, that I put a gun barrel in my mouth every single night and cried. I had no options. I still have no options. I am totally dependent on my fiance. Not only financially. She does everything for me. I was an absolute mess before I met her. I've checked myself in for mental distress before, was given depakote, and discharged. It was a generic thing. In and out. They didn't give a shit. I tried to talk, and they fed me pills. Pills that made me manic for three days, and then made me sleep for three days. I took myself off them, and never went back. I do not do that kind of thing normally, a couple days yes, but the duration of my dosing that drug, I was an emotionless zombie.

 I do not want pills. Of any kind. I have real problems that are not going to be solved by throwing drugs at them. Please, whoever ends up reading this, please please take me seriously, I am reaching the end of my rope, and I can't take another doctor throwing pills at me and sending me out the door. I need someone to listen, and give a shit. The last Dr. I tried to see at the free clinic in portland, the only one I could find that would accept me quickly (less than three months wait) with no insurance was the most recent, and probably one of the worst bad encounters I had with a Dr.


 I went in telling him I need to be under a doctors care as a requirement for my disability. Just someone that sees me for my problems. I also need him to sign a letter saying that I am unable to work, so that I don't go to jail for the child support that has finally caught up to me. They told me two weeks before they were having my medical records faxed before that day, so he would have them. He did not have them. I told him my story as best as I could, and he flat out denied me, refused to give me a letter for court, and refused to even see me as a patient to fulfill the requirement for my pending disability application. and told me that I should in fact just go to mexico and get my leg amputated like I spoke of. I then asked if he had any compassion at all? To which he replied, No, no I don't have any compassion. And I just ran out crying. This was my very first visit to this clinic. The entire time with the doctor took about five minutes for him to reach his conclusion, if that.