First, our Christmas tree is up. I did it all by myself, with a little help from Doc Mick’s called in percocet prescription. *drools* Nothing special in the tree. It’s the same tree, same decorations that we always put up. I got a wild hair up my arse and raided the Christmas party food box. I ate an entire box of mixed nuts, a garlic sausage, then puked my guts out. You’ll soon see why I’m so ill all the time and puking.
So, here’s what all was did to me, test-wise, yesterday. I was supposed to be sedated, and holy shit, look at that high level of meds I was given! Yet, I was awake, felt everything, and remember it all. Gagging, seeing the scope through my stomach skin. And hearing the surgeon tell the tech and nurse to prep me for renal removal because my scan prep was so shitty. Literally. I couldn’t keep that nasty MoviPrep down for all the money in the world! Click the scans to see bigger versions. If you’re curious, the man named Danny listed on the scans is my wacky, warped doctor who makes pornographic videos of himself and then uploads them to YouPorn on the weekends. Google him, if you’re curious. I don’t care anymore.
James uploaded some pictures from the John Lennon memorial. Go visit his page to see them.
While a lacking euphoria, slightly evanescent, mildly misguided, in my mind, I stumbled out the front door. The pain was great. The need for pqin medicine is even greater. I nee that higher dose, who cares what a couple of dumbasses think. I do, however, hope that they never have to go through even one of my experiences, physically or emotionally. This is not a good place to be.
Watching the stars dance from the front porch, I felt a little better. The cold air chilled me, and now all I want to do is get ready for bed and try to sleep. Nighty-night!
So, after a trip to the gastro doctor, he’s recommended that I have a scope. I was assured that during the entire process that I would be unconscious. They gave me a box of “MoviPrep”. I’m suddenly reminded of GoLytely. The extreme laxative that’s given to colonoscopy patients. Something tells me I’m going to wish that I was unconscious during the prep for this.
The box of MoviPrep. I wish it were a video editing software…
The mixing bottle:
It even has little measurements on it!
So what’s inside that second box?
I will spare you of whatever comes out of me based on this test. Thankfully, I’m only going to have to go through this for a day and a few hours, at the most. I’m going to have to drink TWO LITERS of this stuff within 25 hours. Something tells me I shouldn’t take my narcotics the night I start this prep. O-o
“There’s a hole in our soul, that we fill with dope.” ~ Marilyn Manson
This damned cold weather. I have to take something to take the edge off the pain, even if it’s a half a pill. My back and knees are killing me, and I can’t turn up the heat because Dennis thinks that it’s warm enough in here. There’s something about how I dislike taking medicine mixed with the bliss of being painfree, even if it’s just for a few minutes, that really seems to rub people the wrong way. Especially those online. I’ve had comments asking if I was a “fatso” because I have arthritis in my back and knees. So only morbidly obese women get arthritis before they’re fifty? Or perhaps people just think that being called “fat”, at 130 lbs, would be an insult to me. Well, maybe. If I was six inches tall. Or it’s that they’re mad that they don’t have the high levels of pain medication that I have. It wasn’t free, ya know! I had to get cancer, and have rotten teeth to get anything stronger than an aspirin! I really am hurt here, I’m not just joy riding on some fun drugs.
Of course there’s the possibility of another dance with cocaine or heroine.
It’s always in the back of my mind.
If the vicodin runs out, if Lance remembers he left his seconal bottle in my car, if my doctor gives up on me again, there’s the possibility of turning back to something harder, even if it’s just for that blissness of being pain free for a half an hour, mostly because I’d be passed out.
I have questioned why my doctor recommended physical therapy for broken lumbars, rather than cortisone shots or surgery. What the hell is exercising going to do to relieve the pain of a broken bone? If this were any other part of my body, I would be in a cast and on hard drugs. If I had a competent doctor, it would not have gotten to the point of arthritis. I have complained about this pain to my current doctor since April of 2008. It wasn’t until a couple of months ago that he decided to do anything about it, and then that was just x-rays to prove that I was lying to milk drugs out of him.
Lovely man, no?
But there is a part of me that doesn’t want to be on this medicine anymore. It has nothing to do with the social frowns at my use. I take it for the pain relief, and that’s all. It has to do with I don’t like not having control over my mind. When I take the muscle relaxers, I have trips that resemble LSD trips. I see designs, I can clearly see myself doing other things, when I’m actually still lying in bed. I stop breathing. I choke on air. I lose parts of my memory. It’s not as intense as what Byron gave me, but it’s still intense. Even Auz said he didn’t want anymore of those pills, that night.
I finally had to give myself my first injection of Neupogen today. It was less painful than I expected. I have to take that to prevent infection. It was no different than when I pierced my own ears in high school. Yep, by the time I was fifteen years old, I had stuck myself several times with antique diaper pins to pierce my own ears. Dennis reacted to the injection far worse than I did, he actually turned and left the room completely. Mostly, I associate injections with the huge Epi-Pen that I carry around with me. The injection from that is almost like falling on a dull nail. The needle is intended to go through clothing on the thigh. What’s usually there? Tough, thick denim, so the needle is huge and bulky. I can see the opening in the tip of it, after I’ve injected. Actually, I’ve played around with one of those used Epi-Pens, and guess what? I can fit one of my little earring posts in it, so it’s at least 18 gauge. Possibly twenty.
I have yet to decide what to do. So many people are mad at me for wanting to quit, but until you’ve been down this road, you have no idea what I am going through. There is the constant pain and anxiety. When I take something for either or both, I am labeled an addict. The pain is severe. The pain is everywhere. It seems to congregate in my back because of the arthritis and bone spurs, but where ever it goes it is severe. I literally feel as though I have been hit by a truck and the pain makes drugs like Tramadol and hydrocodone seem like simple aspirin. Very little, if any, drugs even dull the pain. Then there’s the sleeplessness that goes along with severe pain. I cannot sleep because I am in pain. The more pain I have, the less likely I am able to fall asleep. It’s a vicious cycle, but I go through it. Most of this pain is caused from the treatments. The chemotherapy that is pumped into me once a month and the effects last for days. The physical effects cause severe emotional reactions, and I don’t want to continue this way.
There has to be an alternative to what I am going through, but I have yet to find it. My normal physician (the asshole) is on vacation until Monday, though I don’t get to see him until Friday. I don’t know what I expect him to do, since for the longest time, he tells me that he doesn’t know what to do for me. I would look for another doctor, but being on pain medication and searching for a doctor who gives a damn would be “doctor shopping” wouldn’t it? There’s just no winning in all of this. No matter what I do, it is the wrong move, and that’s not right. I do want to get well. I do want to fight for my life, but I cannot do it alone or while I feel like I am making wrong moves and am the bad guy in all of this.
My site is finally functional again. I wish I could say my hosts fixed the PHP, but it doesn’t appear that is going to happen anytime soon. *sigh* is it too much to ask for cheap, modern hosting? To make matters worse, my DVD burner (on the computer) refused to burn any discs. Turns out the lens was dirty, after I bought 150 different discs for it. I’m not kidding. I bought DVD-R, DVD+R, DVD-RW, Memorex, Sony, Apple, none of them would burn. Then it was suggested that I clean the lens with the little CD/CDROM lens cleaner I bought back in the ’90s with the little brush on the CD. After some weird noises from my CD drive, it’s burning beautifully. Both DVD-R and DVD+R. Anyone want any movies??? Seriously! I’m up to my ears in CDs here and I need to get rid of them!! How about the Simpsons, Family Guy and American Dad Halloween specials?? My computer’s drive copies DVDs made from my new burner beautifully! Free shipping if you say yes!
I had a treatment today. It caused some vision disturbances. I think. I was having the problem last night, so I don’t know if my treatment caused it or it’s something else. I fell asleep during the treatment. When I woke up, I was stiff and cramped. I came home and slept a few more hours, and here I am. Burning movies and waiting for my site to get back in shape. I wasn’t given any pain medication this time, which was strange. I won’t get to see Doc Mick until Monday. Monday is too late for me to go to a good friend’s wedding. That was what I was working towards doing. Learning to drive long distances. Learning to not need so much medicine that I could not think properly. Doc Mick told me I didn’t need to think properly anymore because I had Matt to help me get around, but he’s going home on Tuesday. Yep, I have to learn to make it on my own. After Thanksgiving, my husband is going on the road for a little while, and I’ll be at the mercy of the world again.
The vast majority of my depression and various drug over doses these past few weeks were based on the fact that I could not get to this friend’s wedding. I was one of the first people she told, and I feel that she is mad at me because of this. I feel that I have let her down in a way that is unforgivable, and having cancer or being in pain is no reason to miss something like this. I even went out last month and spiced up my old even gown. But in the end, I failed. That’s what I do best, isn’t it? Fail. Let people down. Let myself down. That triggers depression, which triggers self-destructive thoughts and actions. When I get back on my own I can’t be self-destructive again. Being the one that everyone else is going to lean on, I cannot be weak. But I feel I am. I feel I will not win this time. I feel many things. None of them are good.
I often have prophetic dreams. For months before it happened, I dreamed of wrecking my car. For nearly a year before she died, I dreamed of attending my younger sister’s funeral. Today, I believe that I have had another prophetic dream…
After getting home this morning, I wasn’t feeling too great, so I relaxed for a while. Around 5pm, I fell asleep. While I was asleep, I dreamed. I dreamt of Auz. I dreamed of us living together in a house in downtown. A dangerous part of town, and we weren’t so rich. In fact, our home had just the one room and a bathroom. I dreamed of us holding one another and we were truly happy. Ok, he was happy because he was resting his head on my boobs, but the line still stands: we were happy. I woke up nauseated. I’ve come close to throwing up a few times tonight, over the past hour or so that I have been awake. I don’t understand why I am suddenly so sick.
While it was probably a fool’s errand, I took my meds and I’m going to try to sleep. I know the dream of Auz and I can never be true; in reality, we wouldn’t be happy together. We weren’t happy together that night on the west coast, and very little would change. In the dream I didn’t have my kids. I was in a state of panic because someone had been chasing me with a gun through an office building. I’m not sure if it was Auz, or if he saved me. I just know it happened. And we were happy. Even in that state of altered reality, I was happy. I’ve always known that having a family wouldn’t make me happy. Not deep down. But here I am. Would I just be happy with a mate? No children? No pets? No real responsibilities? Just the two of us to rely on one another for happiness? Judging by the weird home in the dream, I would say so. If dreams are truly what you really desire, then that setting is what would make me happy.
Of course I am not going to abandon my family and security for a person I have had three one night stands with. That would be crazy.
Or am I crazy for not living up to my aspirations?
I don’t want to answer that. I don’t want to think about what if because what if leads me to think of other things that I should not be thinking of. You know me, once I start thinking about things, I eventually do them. I don’t want to do what I am thinking of doing. Right now, too many living people depend on me, and as much as I want to be happy and healthy, I cannot put my own happiness and health before another person. Of all the deplorable things I have done or will do, that is not one of them.
Now I’m just rambling with my nausea keeping me awake. It’s time for bed.
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