I have never been what one might call a go getter. I have been pretty satisfied with seeing a situation for what it was and doing the best I could with it. With a few exceptions, I didn’t seek to stand out in any way. Being one of the crowds was very much my comfort zone. Working with what I had to satisfy the end game, whatever that was.

I have lived my public life with tight control over my obvious attachments. And by public life, I mean life away from the confines and protection of my home. I didn’t put up a false front so much as keeping things private. So I made my decisions based on what was seen and what I could keep to myself. I was very comfortable being a member of the team as long as I could step away and be all that I wanted to be elsewhere.

My nearest and dearest always saw that as an ability to live as a hermit if I ever chose to. My detachment with the outside world was so defined. And I was definitely more comfortable with being detached than I was being involved. I like making my decisions based on what was important to me and being completely open about my priorities with those who would be affected by that decision and being unmoved by outside pressure.

Understanding that about meant I couldn’t look back at the past with regret. I had made all major decisions with honesty and without hidden agendas. Because I owned my decisions at the time I made them, I never regretted them. Perhaps they didn’t lead to the outcome I expected, but that was a part of the learning process. I have found mistakes hold more lessons that successes.

Until now. I so deeply regret returning to my Workers Comp doctor to report deeper pain and less ability than I had before the workplace accident. That particular path has become my worst nightmare. I have been taken out of the equation of my life. I am powerless to change the timetable of my return to work, or even what doctor will be my caregiver.

At the start of this, my return to work was a team building exercise between me, the medical staff, and insurance company. We all communicated regularly about my progress. The medical staff would give me guidance and keep tabs on my physicality. The insurance company would check in to make sure everything was moving along as efficiently as possible.

I worked hard. One can’t be independent and self-defined under the constant care of a doctor. And independence and self-definition pretty much defined me. It was 11 months of pushing myself to attain a goal and balancing that power with self-care and kindness. Two weeks shy of the first anniversary; I returned to work full time with no restrictions.

Then my body broke down again two months later. I was sent home unable to fulfill even a measure of my duties. The soft tissue around the original injury hadn’t healed so that when I really tested it and attempted perform the more strenuous aspects of my job, my body failed.

The workers comp doctor had completely failed in her task of ascertaining the true depth of my physical condition post-accident. I am not at all versed in the machinations of the healthcare industry. I went into this assuming the doctor would be true to her profession and investigate the nagging complaints I had of discomfort and pain. I was true to my desire for resumption of the life I lead before, so I was transparent with how I was feeling every step of the way.

I am now completely unable to do my job. I am home until another doctor can see the results of test that have just recently been ordered. Test that could have been done much earlier and probably would have detected the problem sooner.

My regret in is my part of all this. I was so lost in the effort to reestablish myself that I failed to be my own best advocate. In my push to leave get past the trauma, I failed to measure the true breadth and width of that trauma. And the doctor I was assigned to was not dedicated to doing her best authentically. She was doing her best within the confines of cost management. Combine the two and we have failed both.

It is costing more, nearly two years since the accident, and I am still on total workers compensation. I am not who was I was and until I can live my life free of the definition from others about what I am able to do, I can’t be her.