17 February, 2008


Finally, to write about the coming Friday.

...But I feel like I should let you know what happened last Friday first: I was on the phone all day, as mentioned in the last post I actually did some writing in. Dr 9 didn't set up my appt. with Dr Igor, so I had to do it myself. It is currently set for March 20. Which means I'll have to see Dr Douchebag (current psych) one last time. Oh well. Three minutes, a month's worth of Klonopin. Still, I obviously didn't play my cards right.

...So I saw my CPA last Friday. My 2007 medical expenses should ensure I have barely any taxable income. I spent between $10,000 and $20,000 altogether. Jeez...

Now to this Friday: Drs 9 and Frankenstein made me set up my own appointment (Dr 9 said he would, personally, refer me, but didn't) with Faketown Head and Pain Center. The center's protocol is to have me (and all their patients) spend the entire day having various tests run and talking to various doctors -- pain specialists, shrinks and psychologists. Fun!

In the meantime, I have to dig up all the medical records from past doctors that I can, plus my MRI films, etc. Still, they're going to do a lot of testing themselves.

Which is fine. I'm sure they'll do extensive blood tests, but one can survive deprived of a pint or two, right? Hell, they can do just about anything they want because:

I'm seeing this place to be put on chronic opioid analgesic therapy. All I want is to be put on OxyContin so I only have to take two pain pills per day. Then we can tweak the dose to perfection -- until I am as pain-free as possible.

Finally. Finally. Finally. Finallyfinallyfinally. (I would really like to repeat that word fifty more times for emphasis...)

I've only been waiting for this (COAT) since I was diagnosed with fibro in early 2006.

So I have something to hope for... Hopefully only one more week of agony left until I get some real relief... Or relief I can count on 24/7. And then I can stop seeing Dr 9 every goddam day Monday through Thursday, and hopefully get Cassatt, my physical therapist, to get the ball rolling on getting me my own e-stim device. Once I get my own device I can stop PT and try to pretend I never had to endure it in the first place.

I'm convinced PT is awful for fibromyalgians. It only causes us more pain. And even when I get put on COAT, going to PT will only exacerbate the pain COAT will be trying to cover. Counterproductive.

I skipped last Friday's PT, meaning that I've gone without it since Wednesday. And I finally feel only as miserable as I did before I started PT. Though I'm going in tomorrow, it's for e-stim only. I'm not going to lift a single weight (even if they are only one to five pounds). Anything I do there makes my abdominal muscles hurt so bad I can't eat for days afterward.

So fuck that shit.

[I apologize that this particular post is as interesting as drywall. A much more interesting one is forthcoming: I feel I owe an explanation for my many mood swings, from loving Dr 9 one day to hating him the next... From believing I'll never need opioids again one day to wanting them more than food the next... And on and on. Stay tuned!]

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