All Roads Lead to Hell

While visiting the Stanford Pain Management Clinic, probably the best in the entire West, my new doctor said within moments of meeting me that he really didn't like using opioids for chronic pain. He never gave justification for that statement, and I was too slow at the time to question it. Everyone in the health profession is concerned about opioids and addiction, but no one talks about it.

I didn't like the man, even though he was probably one of the brightest people in medicine, but when you get use to Stanford's levels of excellence, in life, in general, you learn to be more critical. You can sort out the extraordinary from the lowly "only-above-average." Dr. Daniel Mason (look him up!) is not only a writer of two novels (in an interview he complained about not being able to decide to be a writer or a psychiatrist), but--this part always amazes me--he graduated top of his class in Biology at Harvard. 

My mother doesn't like him because, as people have noticed, his bedside manner sucks.

I caught him in the hallway of the psychiatric outpatient clinic, and he actually smiled at me (I felt blessed like God-himself was gracing him with his presence).

This doctor at Stanford's Pain Management clinic is young, and according to Dr. Mackey, all of his staff understands that pain is subjective, and that people can look rather ordinary, and yet be in severe pain. My doctor there at the clinic, well, I don't think he took this idea to heart like perhaps Dr. Mackey wanted him to.

This young doctor looked at me like I was simply a case, and an uninteresting one at that, although he assured me that a team of doctors looked over my documents, and came up with the best solution possible.

Do you want to know what the big revelation was?

Physical therapy. 

When I returned home, and saw my GP, his initial reaction was that if Stanford knew I was on opioids and didn't think it was a problem, then he would continue to prescribe the medication (My young doctor at the pain clinic said that he wouldn't prescribe it himself because he wants someone local to me to manage it).

Then my GP's assistant mention that in the case notes from my visit at the Stanford Pain Management Clinic that this young doctor suggested I titrate off the Norco completely.

Immediately, my GP was telling me about how this was what was best for me, and he said he would prescribe 10 pills every ten days for a month, and then cut that to five pills for every ten days for another month.

That was a joke, so I decided to avoid the power plays and the bullshit and just stop taking the Norco completely on my own without dragging out the process over two months.

So, I returned to the Stanford Pain Management Clinic to see Dr. Mackey himself, and his fellow, Dr. M.

Dr. M and I discussed the opioid prescription, and she suggested that if it was helping me stay active then it was worth it to continue.

That's great, but my GP isn't going to believe it unless it's written down somewhere, so I made that request, and haven't heard back.

It's been a few days now without Norco, and at several periods throughout my day, I'm in serious pain, which starts out localized and then spreads outward like coming down with a bad flu. The first 24-hours were the worst. I spent the day on the couch, and Mom suggested that I drink a lot of water, and I did so.

I made an appointment with J. my physical therapist (after I paid off the clinic, a sum of $390), but then I canceled at the last minute. I was too ashamed to go. He's beautiful (single or not single?), and I hate myself for being fat. I realize that this is twisted logic (wouldn't someone who's overweight want to get in better shape?).