Does pain prepare you for something?
Tuesday, January 22, 2019
Three More Days to Go
If you're in pain, and gradually losing options, you think of the final fix: suicide.
I've toyed with the idea, but have made no plans. I'm hoping I'll get through this semester, and it won't be agonizing.
I've toyed with the idea, but have made no plans. I'm hoping I'll get through this semester, and it won't be agonizing.
Monday, January 21, 2019
Four More Days to Go
A month later after the first back surgery, I re-herniated the same disc, only worse this time. The pain was unimaginable. The morning after it happened, the pain was so intense that I wasn't sure I could get out of bed, but somehow managed to see the neurosurgeon that day. I couldn't sit in the waiting room, so the receptionist put me in an examining room, and there I could lie down on my side, the only comfortable position I had.
On Oct 22, 2018, I was hospitalized at Stanford's G2P, but the doctors were somewhat at a loss. They prescribed Lexapro again because it had worked in the past, and were puzzled about what to do with the Tylenol #4. My Stanford outpatient psychiatrist wanted me to get off of the opioids within a week. The inpatient doctors, including Stanford Pain Management, felt like this was an unrealistic goal.
I couldn't sit long enough to attend groups or even eating my meal in the dinning hall. In order to eat, I had to take breaks from sitting, lying down on my hospital bed periodically so I could again sit up. When I was discharged, I collapsed in the hallway of the hospital from the pain.
On Oct 22, 2018, I was hospitalized at Stanford's G2P, but the doctors were somewhat at a loss. They prescribed Lexapro again because it had worked in the past, and were puzzled about what to do with the Tylenol #4. My Stanford outpatient psychiatrist wanted me to get off of the opioids within a week. The inpatient doctors, including Stanford Pain Management, felt like this was an unrealistic goal.
I couldn't sit long enough to attend groups or even eating my meal in the dinning hall. In order to eat, I had to take breaks from sitting, lying down on my hospital bed periodically so I could again sit up. When I was discharged, I collapsed in the hallway of the hospital from the pain.
Saturday, January 19, 2019
One Year Later
On Jan 10th, 2019, it has been a year since I've heard from Morpheus. I haven't sent him an email or called him--nothing, no contact. After a year, I expected myself to be healed, that I wouldn't think about him much, but I talk to him every night before I go to sleep. I talk to myself. I tell myself all the bad things about him, about our relationship. But it doesn't work: I still love him, am in love with him.
Out of Pain Meds and 6 more days to go
I had two back surgeries, one on September 18th and then another on November 27th 2018. Slowly, the neurosurgeon has been titrating me off of Tylenol #4 with the approval of Stanford Pain Management.
Recently, I received my prescription of Tylenol #4, a twenty day supply. I went through it in a week, and am now completely without opioid pain meds. Technically this is opioid abuse, and if the doctors know what I've done--well, let's just say they would be displeased. To be honest, this game of running out of meds and then stealing them from family has been going on for close to two years now.
My mother has caught me a couple of times, each time angrier than the last. She has said that it's "going over to the dark side" when you have a habit you can't disclose to your family, when you have secrets to keep. She's used the word "addiction."
I have a golden rule: I never take opioid pain meds unless I'm in enough pain to warrant the use. I blame it on the doctors mostly: that they don't understand how much pain I deal with every day. I talk and they don't listen. They have this agenda, and it doesn't matter the reality of the situation. Opioids are bad, and therefore, you shouldn't be on them. Opioids worsen depression. Opioids cause hyperalgesia. Opioids cause addiction.
The truth is: I would take all of those risks for a few hours of pain relief. Give me something that works better, and I will take it. To cover my bases, I take other non-opioid pain medications like gabapentin and Mobic--it helps, but not as well as opioids.
How can I steal pain meds from someone who needs them? Selfishness wins out, and so does desperation. If you're desperate, you do all sorts of things that you never knew you were capable of like taking three hundred dollars for a blowjob. I imagine this is a decent explanation for petty crimes--people hungry or going through withdrawal or needing to pay for certain life's requirements like rent.
Every time I see my mom's pills out, I have a strong urge to take some.
But I don't.
Recently, I received my prescription of Tylenol #4, a twenty day supply. I went through it in a week, and am now completely without opioid pain meds. Technically this is opioid abuse, and if the doctors know what I've done--well, let's just say they would be displeased. To be honest, this game of running out of meds and then stealing them from family has been going on for close to two years now.
My mother has caught me a couple of times, each time angrier than the last. She has said that it's "going over to the dark side" when you have a habit you can't disclose to your family, when you have secrets to keep. She's used the word "addiction."
I have a golden rule: I never take opioid pain meds unless I'm in enough pain to warrant the use. I blame it on the doctors mostly: that they don't understand how much pain I deal with every day. I talk and they don't listen. They have this agenda, and it doesn't matter the reality of the situation. Opioids are bad, and therefore, you shouldn't be on them. Opioids worsen depression. Opioids cause hyperalgesia. Opioids cause addiction.
The truth is: I would take all of those risks for a few hours of pain relief. Give me something that works better, and I will take it. To cover my bases, I take other non-opioid pain medications like gabapentin and Mobic--it helps, but not as well as opioids.
How can I steal pain meds from someone who needs them? Selfishness wins out, and so does desperation. If you're desperate, you do all sorts of things that you never knew you were capable of like taking three hundred dollars for a blowjob. I imagine this is a decent explanation for petty crimes--people hungry or going through withdrawal or needing to pay for certain life's requirements like rent.
Every time I see my mom's pills out, I have a strong urge to take some.
But I don't.
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