Called My Pain Doctor Today.. Surprisingly I got a call back..
At my last (and first) meeting with my Pain Doc, I promised him I would call and let them try and find me help if I was thinking of harming myself. Huh. Like that hasn’t been a *daily* occurrence for some time now…
But I promised. he promised to act on that call.
Surprisingly he did.
I left his nurse line a message stating I was near my end.
Was afraid I would end things within 24 hours.
Not really afraid, actually…. More certain…
An Outpatient Care Co-ordinator/counselor called back shortly thereafter after being contacted by both my Primary(yesterday) and Pain Doc (today).
She and I discussed options. There *are* few to none. Due to the devastating letter Dr. Rollins, a pulmonologist, wrote to my pain doc, everything now hinges on getting a new sleep study and a different assessment to use as a shield against the DEA. Period.
Until then…. yeah.
She mentioned a local phys therapist that uses un-orthodox techniques that often bring results. But I have to cover the full copay. In advance.
She has contacted several (4) of the only 5 clinics within an 8 hour drive. (One has closed. Since Sept 22. You can guess the reason..)
3 said no. “Will not treat outside of a 50 mile radius…”
One is a stabilization clinic 5 hours away..
It accepts patients but will want to try everything else first.
Primary will be in touch with them tomorrow.
Told her to tell my doctor’s that I am fighting with every ounce of me. That I promised to hit the ER once last time… but if I *did*, the very *last* 24 hour timer will have already been running. They had to do *something* immediately at that point or… I wouldn’t live another 12 hours. If that long…
I explained that I *fully* understood my own flat affect, and clarity of thought and purpose. That I *knew* what those signs meant and what they portended. And that I *want* to hold out, but with my emotions go most of my internal ‘safeties’. I am a machine. And *will* act on the logical parameters of my situation when I determine that I am no longer able to complete the assigned set of tasks before me.
Calmly. Coolly. Without shedding a single tear.
I have none left to shed…
As an analyst by nature and habit, I know my situation isn’t just lousy, it’s atrocious. Nearly insurmountable. If that meeting next week, and the sleep test that follows, doesn’t provide a shield for my treatment, I am as good as dead. No doctor will be willing to treat me. And I don’t blame them. The DEA has made treating high-risk patients like myself worth a doctor’s license. Enforced self-genocide. No less horrible than what the Third Riech did in World War Two..
As it is, I’m not much better. The doctors just don’t have many options to work with. Not if they want to see their families other than through a glass window in a federal penitentiary.
That’s what Chronic patients like me face Every. Single. Day. now..
So the rest of my life hinges on a breathing test. While i have near-pneumonia. Sometime after next Wednesday.
If I can manage to hold out that long. Somehow.
28 days? I’m not sure I will survive another 28 *hours*….
And for some reason, that doesn’t even bother me anymore… o.o