27 December, 2007


Someone e-mailed me, having just found out that I have fibro through the Interwebs. She told me she has been in pain for years and her doctor, who has been giving her Lyrica for years, has thought she's had fibro for years. My response is below (notice the emphasis on drugs drugs drugs, even though I don't know whether Lyrica works like an atomic clock for her)... Also notice that I am, in fact, sleazy:


There is one thing you must do immediately: Find a doctor who PRESCRIBES OPIOIDS! I can't stress that enough. I get pain relief only from them, but the asshole doctors I've found in Lummox [I change the names of people and places, nothing else -Ed.] won't write scripts for them (especially since I was taking one bomber of an amount of Percocet... Which still didn't work close to well enough! -- even my DC doctor was super-reluctant to get me on COAT -- Continuous Opioid Analgesic Therapy... but he WAS going to, right before I was yanked home by my parents (I was having a very very nasty flare).

[Wow! I can't use punctuation properly! -Ed.]

So I never have been able to experience anything close to 100 percent relief. Which makes me pissed off enough to write a blog. How nerdy and 1990s is that? I write a blog...Well, my first book wasn't picked up through the traditional channels (it sucks), so maybe I can sell my diary...

OK -- also, get yourself some Ritalin or Provigil. I'd be on the latter if my doctors had any desire to allow me to be somewhat awake and coherent during the day. Might as well get some kick-ass speed while you're at it....

And -- stop.

Wow. Rants like those just pop right out.

Anyway, of course I remember you! In fact (not to be off-putting or sleazy), the last time I recall seeing you was at Mutual Friend's graduation party. I was drinking a fifth of Bombay Sapphire and kinda hitting on you. Later it was tent time and I was between you and Erin Lastname (how is she doing? any idea?), trying to decide if I should make a move on you or not -- despite Erin being there.

The booze must have gotten to me... Then again, not enough for me to actually try something, get rejected, and possibly kicked out of the last available tent.

So that's that... Sorry it had to be weird.

OK, so yep, I have fibro, but I'm having pretty good days now. The flare is over, and things are pretty calm now.

EXCEPT I'm coming off some pills (including my beloved sweet divine Percocet so save me jeebus), and it's making me more aware of the world. Which sucks, because I'm stuck at my parents' house. Goddam it.

Sorry to be lengthy


[Pain: I will discontinue this portion -- I'm coming off Percocet, etc. and onto the all-natural hell that will be me without it. Not the withdrawal, mind you, but the pain of being alive. With fibro. So figure it's 1,500/10 until this feature resumes, or is brought back by popular demand. Wuss.

Anxiety: 10/10. I'm freaked right the fuck out all the fucking time.

Being lazy enough to post an e-mail: Hey that's pretty lazy!

Sleazy?: Umm-um!]

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