Missed therapy today. Opted instead for hanging out with Isa at Crimson Cup. Coffee is therapeutic, right? Anyway, I do my best writing when I'm out of the house. Currently, being out of the house also means less exposure to whatever creeping ailment Matt has contracted. Poor guy. Got sick, is on call this week, and of course his phone rang every hour on the hour last night until about 04:00.
Chronic pain sucks, and people not taking that pain seriously because I am fat or I "look fine" is frustrating as hell. It's seriously affected my self-image over the years, and contributed to my depression. Conversely, when a doctor actually takes me seriously, it makes me feel better about myself. The pain is no longer "my fault." It's real and treatable and it isn't "all in my head." So, oddly enough, my visit to the ER on Saturday night was actually a good experience.
During the afternoon, my sciatica started acting up. I did everything I was supposed to do-- went home, stretched, tried ice and heat, laid down with a pillow between my knees, took some Aleve. It just continued to get worse. My back was in spasm. The last straw was when the cat startled me from my nap and I fell out of bed onto my hip. Ow. With the pain shooting down my leg and my toes going numb, I knew it was time to go to the ER, but I hesitated. Most of my past experiences with ER staff in terms of dealing with pain have been negative. I once actually waited for five hours in searing pain, was given a couple of ibuprofen and told to lose some weight. I've become accustomed to being treated like a drug-seeker, and not taken seriously.
Thankfully, this experience was different. The staff at Riverside were very accommodating and friendly, and they got me in to see the doctor in a reasonable amount of time. I was given the choice of pills or shots; I chose shots. I left with matching band-aids on both ass cheeks, and one on my arm. Anti-inflammatory, steroid and dilaudid. Oh, gods, the dilaudid. I'd never had that before, and I was seriously on the nod for the rest of the night. Kinda freaky. More importantly, though, I also left with a referral to see a real spine doc, and I've made an appointment with him. He will likely order an MRI, something I have desperately needed for years.
Receiving this kind of validation for my pain does a lot for me. It makes me less apprehensive about going to the doctor, and thus more likely to take care of myself in the ways that I should. It makes me feel that I am a person who happens to have a painful condition, rather than simply a collection of problems to be methodically written off. I am so used to being written off that it's disgusting. Fibromyalgia is such a waste-basket term for many physicians that, when I tell them I am in pain, they usually give me a metaphorical pat on the head and tell me I should exercise more. Since I have had no health insurance for most of my adult life, I have not been officially diagnosed with anything other than fibromyalgia, even though X-rays about 10 years ago showed a bulging disk in my spine and bone spurs. I can only imagine how bad it's gotten since then. I muddle through most days, but when my back decides to act up, I can't function. Now I feel like I have some hope that something can be done. Maybe physical therapy, different medications, whatever. I don't really care what the final outcome is. The point is that I am being taken seriously.
As a side note, I am somewhat troubled by the change in how I am treated by doctors. I suspect the difference in how I have been treated in the past and how I am treated now when I visit an ER has a lot to do with the fact that I have health insurance. This isn't the venue to go on a rant about how unfair and fucked-up healthcare is in this country, but I will say that it's been eye-opening. Since getting on my husband's insurance, I haven't had a single doctor blame all of my problems on my weight, treat me like an addict, or suggest that my problems are all in my head.
Medication notes: For the last three days, I have been on painkillers, muscle relaxants and steroids. I try to pay careful attention to what these medications do to my mood. Percocet makes me a little giddy and euphoric, and I try to keep it in check so that I don't tip over into hypomania. The muscle relaxants don't do a whole lot, or at least they don't seem to. The steroids can make me a little agitated. I am well-aware that opioids are addictive, and I do not ever take more than prescribed - usually a little less. This does take discipline, since I like the way they make me feel, and aside from the psychoactive component, just not being in pain can tempt me to overextend myself. Compared to the last time I was on a regimen of painkillers, I think I am handling it better. It may be due to the fact that Neurontin is acting as a mood stabiliser. Whatever it is, I am thankful for it.
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