Sunday, October 18, 2009
Bite My Shiny Metal Ass
So to the pharmacy tech who rang up my refill yesterday and gave me a Look, I say, "Fuck you."
I've had some pain off and on in my life, but chronic pain is a new and different animal. When Livvie was born they gave me a scrip for Vicodin and I took a few after I got home and then didn't touch them again until about 8 months later when my migraines came back and I had no meds in the house for them. It has driven people to the verge of bitch slapping me because I'll mention that my head hurts and they'll say, "Did you take anything for it?" "No."
Last fall I had serious pain. The docs could only assume that the pain was being caused by the re-absorption of Jonas's twin for some reason. They gave me Vicodin. Eventually that pain went away. I thought I was in the clear, and then for some reason in late winter I developed something called ligamentitis. The ligaments connecting my crotch area to the tops of my thighs were inflamed, and I could barely walk. For awhile I tried a cane to help me, and then the doctors took pity on me and prescribed Vicodin again. By the time Jonas was due I was freaking out that so much had been pumped into his system during the pregnancy, and I asked for an induction so my pain would leave and he wouldn't be getting anymore. The nurse I spoke to told me he wasn't likely harmed. It didn't really make me feel any better.
After my C-Section I had some pretty severe pain. Other than wisdom tooth removal I had never had surgery in my life. And abdominal surgery fucking hurts. This time I took my pain meds until I ran out. I started to go through what I can only assume was withdrawal. I felt like shit. I was happy that I didn't have to take meds anymore, though. When I was a kid my parents couldn't get me to take pills. I was a liquid meds kid. I used to gag on pills.
By August 19th, though, my back was in severe pain. I had assumed it was from trying to sleep on a cramped little sofa with Jonas trying to push me off it all night for a couple of months. But then my legs went numb. Yeah, no. Marched my ass to Urgent Care and the doctor pointed out that the locus for the pain was right where the idiot had repeatedly jammed my epidural catheter when she couldn't get it placed correctly. I wasn't given any meds. It was recommended that I have an MRI.
The details of the next month are boring to even me.
Chronic, unceasing pain basically leaves you wanting to put a bullet in your head. It leads to depression. Having reduced mobility and being unable to complete even simple household tasks leads to deeper depression.
I finally saw a back pain specialist and got some pain relief. I am aware that taking pain meds on a constant basis can lead to a rebound effect, so there are days when I push through it and then pay dearly the next day. There are days when it doesn't hurt badly enough to require meds at all. There are also days when the prescribed dosage won't even touch it and I have to take two at once. Instead of the big guns she prescribed the Fisher Price My First Vicodin. 325mg. I really don't think that's a bad thing, because it probably won't lead to as many problems. Although I fully expect one day to see my liver leap from my throat and scuttle down the road.
So, yes, holier-than-thou pharmacy tech. Fuck You. Try living like this someday and see how you end up.