Looks Like I Am In For A Long Weekend….. Or Not.
December 13, 2012,
Well. Well. Well. Well. Well…..
That worked out just about the way I thought it would.
Fair warning, this will probably be one of my longer blog posts.
To catch everyone up to speed:
I saw the Spine & Rehab doctor, Dr. Cahill, on Tues, Dec. 11th.
He was actually, for a change, kind, listened to all of our concerns, and treated us like *real* human beings.
He scheduled a full hip/socket/pelvis x-ray series followed by a fluoroscopic deep socket injection into my left hip. He thinks it is possible I have arthritis of that hip. Or torn cartilage. Or something anyway. And he was a bit… concerned, that no one had even *tried* to see what was going on at the actual site of my pain! (Because we all know that the techs only go by the *exact* wording on the order sheet.) *Facepalm*
Then he set an appointment for next month, but put me on his “any opening” list to get me in sooner.
I did the tests yesterday, followed by the injection in the early afternoon. I am still a bit sore, but can already tell that the injection has lowered my pain numbers by a number or two. So that’s good, anyway.
For as long as it lasts….
Today, we saw my new Primary Doctor/clinic to discuss her treatment plan for me. She is “uncomfortable/unwilling” to continue *any* narcotics in my case due to my obstructive lung disease and the risks it poses. When I brought up that the run-up time to most of the other drugs she would like to use is 20-40 days, she said I could increase my Neurontin early to two a night, raise it every couple of days until I am taking 600 mg every 8 hours.
I run out of pain meds at 6am tomorrow.
And there it is.
The “Pain” Clinic is unwilling to carry me or prescribe any narcotics, I *just* met with the Spine clinic, so it is a *least* a month before they are even up to speed on my case.
My new “Primary” physician doesn’t feel it to be a good idea, but would talk to their ethics panel about the possibility of at least carrying my scrip’s “as is” until I meet with Dr. Cahill again. They meet Next Tuesday.
The Pain Clinic (Northern Rockies Regional Pain Center) won’t even answer Shawna’s calls and I don’t meet with Dr. Schabaker until the 21’st of this month, December.
I run out of pain meds tomorrow. At 6 am.
The new Doctor said it was, “Irresponsible of the Psyche Center Doctors to put me back on narcotics, because it was just a band-aid to get me out of the hospital.”
I *hate* always being right.
So many of you know this song and dance. The DEA has pain doctors, and doctors in general, running scared. Narcotics are looked as “end of life” meds *only*, and any patients that show *any* kind of “high-risk” condition are just S— Out Of Luck…
As am I.
I already know how the next few days will play out:
I’ll hold on at half-dose or *less* for as long as the pills last, laying in screaming agony the entire time.
I will once again be unable to eat or drink *anything*, even my *other* meds.
And, eventually, sooner or later, instinct will over-ride intellect and I *Will* do something to make the pain stop.
Calmly. Coldly. Quietly. Without a shred of feeling or remorse.
Just like the tens of thousands of pain patients before.
Just like the tens of thousands of pain patients that will follow me.
We are the new “Forgotten Ones.”
The new pariahs.
And that’s just the way it is….
Even though I *KNEW* that this was the way it was going to play out, I guess I had a *little* hope left that one of these fine professionals would actually step up to the plate and be willing to go to bat for me. I knew better, but I guess I was hoping for the impossible.
And now reality reigns.
As for myself….
For the next few days I will go through the motions…
Try and hold on until Tuesday.
(Though we all *know* how that will turn out, don’t we?)
People that are broken like myself don’t “get” breaks. Not good ones anyway.
Finding a decent pain doctor these days is like winning some terrible lottery.
For every one of us that finds treatment, there are a dozen or more that have no one to hear them scream into the Dark of Night..
Like some form of insidious cancer, the Pain eats them alive from the inside out,
Until all that is left is some shadowless husk.
Some soul-less Golem.
Until the screaming suddenly stops at the end of a rope…
On the front of a passing truck…
With a quiet sigh from some form of medicinal overdose…
Or quickly following the loud bang of a gun.
*That* is our reality now.
So the race is on.
Which will fail first..
My Iron Will, or my mute body?
Only the next couple of days will tell….
I was wrong.
This isn’t one of my longest posts.
There is so little left to be said.
Like my and others’ lives….
I guess this post will just end..