So, um, I'm on drugs.
I hate being fuzzy headed.
I really, really, hate it.
You should appreciate the ability to think clearly.
If not, you really should.
Trying to think through the fog of medication is exhausting, dizzying, and hopeless.
The drugs aren't even really helping the pain. (Either that, or my pain level is just too far gone to be touched by my usual medication.)
The pain got so bad yesterday, I called Dr. Painless for "emergency" help.
He's out of town.
(Of course he is!)
Instead, I talked to an idiotic, fill-in, nurse.
Let me repeat, IDIOTIC.
"What do you think we should do?" she asked me, mystified.
"Seriously, you're asking me?" I replied.
(And no, I don't have a lot of patience when my pain level is off the charts.)
"Would you like morphine?" she asked, unsure of herself.
"No, morphine makes me really sick to my stomach. I definitely do not want morphine," I replied.
"Has this happened before? Do you have any suggestions?" she queried, voice wavering.
Did she just ask me if this has happened before?
Did the NURSE just ask the PATIENT for treatment suggestions?
"Never mind," I answered and hung up.
After all, how can I possibly trust someone who is clearly just guessing tossing out random options?
I don't have a lot of patience with incompetent people.
In fact, when I'm in a lot of pain – I have none.
Life with chronic pain:
Everything about the above photo is RIGHT … every detail of it. The fogginess, the grittiness ….
Well, except for the part that doesn't show the other zillion bottles of medication in the cabinet.
A few of you asked if I'm in my current pain hell fog due to the swimming I've attempted lately.
Probably, in part.
I've been definitely feeling an increase in pain the last couple weeks.
I've been trying to increase my pool time slowly, but as much as I love it – swimming does cause more pain. I imagine it always will, even with the post-car-accident modifications I've made in the manner I "swim."
(And yet, at the same time – being in the water is good for my arm. Go figure.)
Sometimes it's hard for me to curb my enthusiasm for swimming and I overdo it a little. I've been trying to be careful, but the pain has been creeping up on me in recent weeks.
Pain is like that.
Not that mine ever goes away, but the real intense pain? Sometimes it arrives suddenly and swiftly, but other times it builds slowly … sliding its tentacles around me in a tighter and tighter grip until I can't escape.
Those tentacles are evil and they pull a person down into a black abyss.
And no, I'm not being overly dramatic.
In addition to swimming,
I work out on an elliptical most mornings.
I use the elliptical to get a cardio workout. (I also use it in an attempt to keep my fat ass from getting even fatter.) I just use my legs … I completely ignore the arm part of the machine.
Except, the other day I thought I'd hold the handle of the arm lever and let it move my arm for me, JUST FOR TWO MINUTES (of a 45 minute workout). Mind you, the machine moved my arm for me, I didn't do a thing but let it. I thought it would be a good thing … moving some of the muscles I can't move on my own.
It was only two minutes.
How can just two minutes wreak such havoc on my damaged body?
It makes no difference the movement didn't require any effort on my part – my arm just absolutely cannot be made to move in any that direction.
I don't know why.
I don't care why.
I just know it sent me deep into the abyss.
I'll climb out in a few days, I know I will.
I've been here before, and I'm sure I'll be here many times again.
And yet, every single time, it comes as a shock to me …
How really horrible it is to be in this place.
© Twenty Four At Heart