I used to be Dignified

I used to be a very dignified person. I studied art history, aesthetics and literature in college. I graduated 3rd in my class and was awarded almost every award available to me at the time. I raised a wonderful daughter who is a classical musician. My husband and I decided to re-start our family when our daughter was 16 because we had the resources to provide a nurturing and loving environment to our children. I've been a stay-at-home mom now for 9 years and I homeschool my 5 youngest children using a modified classical curriculum. But, I'm not dignified any longer. I have been reduced to living in an iron cage of a body with no hope in sight. I desperately need relief, but I can't let on how desperate this need is because it might be a "red flag." I have been accused of crimes, shouted at, and berated by a doctor who is supposed to be a pain specialist. My mind keeps wandering between resigning myself to the pain and absolute humiliation. I have gone over a conversation with my doctor a thousand times in my head, but I know when the time comes I will just be agreeable so that I can avoid any further embarrassment. I have had about five hours of sleep in the last three days. My legs and arm won't stop shaking and I have the feeling of my whole body being squeezed at once. If I could go back in time to when I met my last doctor (before I had to move), I wouldn't have accepted any pain management. The problem, you see, is I now know exactly what I'm missing. How cruel is the world when I weep at the memory of being able to hold my children on my lap a month ago.