Operation Ahead

I am on the count down to what I hope is the last operation I have to have.
My Bladder has never been my best friend. All through my childhood I was a bed wetter, and during my adult life it has caused progressive problems for me. Now it has to be bypassed. There is a possibility it may have to be removed too.
Hopefully this will be the last time I have to have invasive treatment because of an abusive kick to my sacrum when I was 14. Only my bowel will be left in the pelvis, and the nerve feed to that isn't very good; but I am hoping it won't destabilize any further.
I am trying to maintain upper body strength; but even that is difficult when every twist and bend involves the pelvic muscles and cause the bladder to spasm which in turn makes it impossible to move any more without massive doses of anti-spasmodics. Relieving the pain leaves me so dopey I have trouble achieving anything.  I have been trying to get my bladder sorted for a year; but unfortunately got referred to a Dr/consultant who felt she knew my body better than me. I have had to refuse to see her again to get some action.
There must be something about me that makes me seem like a liar, as I have had to change Dr's several times in various areas of the country, before I can get at the truth. 
Too many Dr's are unwilling to acknowledge a person was abused as a child once they have become an adult. They have no idea of the amount of pain a person will endure to hide the abuse, and how many years it may be before they can reveal it.

Introduction

I have reached 55 yrs old. In those yrs I have had plenty of time to contemplate the things that affect our lives.
Somethings we choose affect the rest of our lives; but at other times it is something totally out of our control that affects the rest of our lives.
The reason I have had so much time to contemplate, is disability that was inflicted upon me at the age of 14.
I managed to work for just a few yrs before my 1st child arrived. after delivering her, I started tiring to exhaustion and losing my legs from under me. After my 2nd child arrived, MS was diagnosed, even after I had seriously challenged a test result. "No that can't still be affecting you after this many yrs," the consultant declared.
I would be 49, and undergo a back operation before I could get at the truth. By then the perpetrators were either dead or dying.
I am writing a book about my childhood that will fill in the gaps.
In future blogs I will be airing my opinion on various subjects that affect entire lives. I will intersperse it with my family of cats and their antics.