I completely understand why people in my area smoke pot so much. I totally understand it! Especially after all my experiences here. I am in chronic pain but the doctors don’t believe in pain management here.
I had three teeth pulled at a time… no pain meds for recovery. Just suffer through it. I have arthritis in my joints and back… suffer. I am in so much pain that I can’t even get my bottom half dressed by myself… suffer. I’m not asking for morphine. I just need something to get through days like this. Days where I am hurting so bad that I am hobbling through the house and limping along. Days where I hurt so bad all I can do is sit down and have a really good cry. Days when I’d love to have a bottle of alcohol to numb the pain, or just take the edge off it, for even just a bit.
I had to go pee earlier and it hurt so bad to make it down the hall that I thought I wasn’t going to make it back to my chair. When I did get back to my chair, all I could do was sit and cry. But if I go to the doctor about pain, they run blood tests, and say I don’t have arthritis. They are right… I don’t have RHEUMATOID ARTHRITIS. I have OSTEOARTHRITIS. The second one doesn’t show up on blood tests. I wish I had a real doctor.
I am in so much pain today that all I can do is cry… and it dawned on me, this is why people here smoke pot. There is no help here from the doctors… at all.
He said he could give me Lyrica or Cymbalta. Hmmm, if I remember correctly, Cymbalta made me want to kill myself and Lyrica was one big, two-week long acid trip. I could taste colors! I could see sound! I ate food I was allergic to because I thought I could. Why? Because the table told me I could. Everything was beautiful and had to be touched. I felt no pain. Actually, I felt nothing at all. Got hit in the head with a football? Too busy staring at the clouds to care. Didn’t feel a thing.
No, I am not kidding. It was not a pleasant time. Wait. Yes it was. It was absolutely delightful. I enjoyed my vacation in Lala Land where everything is beautiful and I can eat whatever I want… but I was seriously a danger to myself and everyone around me. I drove! I drove to the Elementary School and picked up kids. I don’t have kids in Elementary School. Okay? At least I picked kids that knew me and took them to my friend’s house. One of them was her kid.
Seriously, this is not something I am willing to take again. I could seriously injure myself or someone else.
ALL antidepressants I have ever tried have made me suicidal. And he wants me to try it again? No thank you. I think I’d rather smoke pot. Now to figure out how to get some… oh, wait. I am a responsible parent. Damn it! That means I get to sit here and suffer. THIS is the American health “care” system we are stuck with.
And all I was asking for was something for the rough days like this. When I had hydrocodone with ibuprofen, 45 pills lasted me 4 months. It’s not like I abuse the stuff.
But, because the doctors here are SO anti-pain management, I get to suffer.