Saturday, January 14, 2012

' So What Do You Do When The Caruesel Stops ? '

'So What Do You Do When The Carusel Stops ?'
Aug 22 2011
08/22/11
Please forgive me tonight, dear, dear friends, for I am at somewhat of a loss for words...though, in time, I hope they will come. Its almost 8:30 PM, and I am worried, slightlyconfused, hurting--as always--and not a little angry.
I returned home--this afternoon--from the 'dreaded' visit to my PM, pretty much as I had expected: weary, sweaty, in pain, thirsty, and with a slight appetite, which could also be construed as nausea, BUT with prescriptions in hand, which--for me--is really the only reason I see him. He may well be reputed to be among the best, but I have only found him to be draconian, didactic, humorless, intimadating, and--frankly--just a little bit threatening, about which, more later.
He nonchalantly, even unintestingly dismissed my MRI report, stating that there were no apparent changed from last year, and disavowed that I had 'Scolliosis', even though I knew it had formerly--by another physician--been diagnosed; and about my lab work, he said nothing at all.
When he first entered the exam room, in a rush, as always, I tried to get to my feet to shake his hands, requiring that I grab the edge of the exam table to try to pull myself up; to this, he asked if I ever got any exercise. I said, "Yes, three times a week with my Phsysical Theapist." to which he said, "That's not enough !" And told me that my 'hamstrings' were weak, and that I could never to hope to get better with lots of exercise.
Now, I had arived to his office, barely able to walk, even with my cane; with socks and sandals on, because my feet were 3+and pitting, and that I could not even fit into my shoes; and, dragging with me my portable oxygen. I thought to myself, "What a wonderful, and amazing disguise I had contrived: the most ideal 'wounded bird' look, just to fool them into giving me medications."
When I told him that I thought that--perhaps--I had lost twenty pounds, he said, "Great..now lose some more." He also stated that I was relying too much upon my Diluadid.
Then, before he breezed from the room, he said, "we'll see how it goes until your next visit; ( and THIS chilled me ), meanwhile, I will renew your meds....'this time'."
Now, my dear friends, please do not mistake me, for I feel that I do not abuse my medications, although I will admit that I never 'pre-dose' to prevent 'breakthrough pain', waiting--instead--until I am gripped by pain, and then, have to wait, often in sheer, teeth-grinding agony, until the medication takes effect; and...sometimes...yes, I have been known to take two Dilaudid at a time.
But last month, and the month before, he prescribed for me: 1) Dilaudid 4 mgs, four times a day, and; 2) Morphine Sulfate 15 mgs, four times a day. That's four pills--each--a day, for thirty days, thus=120 of each. Never mind the fact that both last month and this were thirty-one days long. A mere complication.
I had dutifully taken in my little pill bottles to show him, which he merely grunted at, when I got home, and actually counted them, I found that I had 21 Dilaudids, and 22 Morphine sulfates left, all well and good.
But when I telephoned the free pickup and delivery pharmacy I use, I fould out that they would keep today's scripts on file, as they could not be filled until the 31st of this month. HUH ????!!!! That means that although I now have to wait nine days before they can be filled, at the prescribed dosages of four of each a day, I now have functionally, only five days' worth of medications left. It doesn't require rocket science to figure out that I will have four days, with NO medications left.
And so, my dear friends and readers, it inescapably means that--in order to survive, and by which I mean to 'just' survive--until August 31st, I will have to bear unbearable pain, by having to cut my doses in half, rather than to run out, and in the remaining four for five days, risk utter agony, PLUS, the beginnings of withdrawal. Let's see...which will cause the most pain ? Or, should I go into withdrawal, will it land me in the hospital, any hospital, or might it even kill me ? Please forgive the ' Drama ', but I actually do not know; nor, do I know how I will cope.
I am so tired of it all, and too giddy from one too many rides on the carusel. How long does it take before it seems that it is the brass ring that is moving ? And when--finally--the carneval shuts down for the night, and, one by one, the strings of lights go out, leaving the gaudy Midway in shadow, only the night breeze, and the stars--above--remain. Memories of stuffed toys, and cotton candy too pass into and away into the night.
My God, my God...how shall I stand it ? Will even cutting the doses in half harm me ? I guess we shall see. I am too accustomed to the 'regular' dosages. And, I cannot even imagine the pain.
For if Disney is correct, and, " A wish is a dream your heart makes ", please, please wish that the next ten days pass quickly.
As ever, love always, 'Zahc'

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