A BIT OF NEWS FROM THE PAIN RELIEF NETWORK!

[This came to my inbox and I thought I'd pass it along and urge everyone who is able -- after donating all you can to me me me, of course (button's on the right) -- to give give give to PRN. The e-mail:]

Pain Treatment Advocacy Group Sues State of WA
Jun 25, 2008
By: Donna Gordon Blankinship
The Associated Press

SEATTLE - A pain treatment advocacy group filed suit Wednesday in federal court to challenge the restrictions Washington state officials have put on prescription pain medication

The nonprofit Pain Relief Network says the guidelines for prescribing narcotics, written by the Washington state Department of Health and published in March 2007, have influenced pain treatment across the country and have made doctors afraid to give opiate prescriptions[...]

Me (Calvin) again:

Get the full story using this link.

Donate to PRN using this link.

This post's title is a link to PRN.

...And sorry for the dearth of posts this month.

Family.

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SOOTHING SAVAGE FIBROMYALGIA & CHRONIC FATIGUE: DRUGS!

I saw Dr ML&S this morning. I thought I was going to have a problem waking up early (I had to leave the house at 9:00, and I've been awakening at 11:00 or noon lately), but did not. I woke at 4:00. ...That would mean I got five hours of sleep.

I don't know what the hell that is about... Some nights my person seems to love sleep at least as much as it loves oxygen, but other times it wants out of it like a college kid wants out of the drunk tank as soon as he wakes up. (The three-inch thick foam-rubber mattress you're given to put on the concrete floor isn't comfortable once you've sobered up.)

First we discussed the results of my allergy test. I told him I immediately cut yeast out of my diet, and that what I had thought was IBS (irritable bowel syndrome) was actually my gut's response to its yeast allergy.

So I have no more IBS-like symptoms (which I won't discuss here -- eeeeeeww)! However, that's the only thing wrong with me that has been put right.

After that discussion, Dr ML&S asked me to rate my pain throughout the day. I told him that, since I take all my meds on time and on an exact schedule I make every morning, based on when I wake up, it's a 4.5/10 all day long.

He said "Then I guess we have a ways to go."

...On my way to see him, today, I hadn't even thought about increasing my OxyContin dose, but the doc doesn't seem like he'll be happy until my pain rates 0/0, if that's possible to attain.

When he asked me if I thought taking 10mg of Oxy every five hours instead of every six would further reduce my pain, I said yes. Thirty mg/day decreased it significantly (from 50/10 to within the scale), 40mg/day decreased the agony maybe two points more, and so now I hope my pain decreases even further.

...Perhaps I can get to a 2.5 or 2/10... If that happens, it may no longer hurt when I sit back in chairs!

He also asked me to tell him how my pain has been since I began seeing him.

"Well... You saved my life."

I explained that going from 50/10 to 4.5/10 was something so tremendous it hadn't even occurred to me that we should try to bring it down further (maybe I should work on this post so I don't restate that)... That he had improved my life (reduced my pain, etc) so much that I'm still in shock due to how much better I feel. (Which isn't to say every moment isn't agony...)

I know this seems like I'm simply blowing smoke up my doctor's ass, but I have no reason to: very few people know about this blog (PLEASE DONATE!), including him.

I'm simply grateful that this guy saved my life. The day before I saw him I was thinking up different ways I could kill myself. The very next day a smile crept on my face for the first time in forever.

...Dr ML&S also increased my Ritalin LA (long-acting), so now I'm taking 30mg to get me out of bed, and 20mg later in the day, about eight hours before I plan on going to sleep.

I think it could work out... And if it doesn't the good doc (I think that is the first time I've used that phrase without sarcasm) and I will fine-tune things when I see him in about a month.

...Hopefully all this is leading to me getting on some sort of sleep schedule... That's eluded me for a very very long time.

May Dr ML&S live a thousand years.

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I HAVE FIBROMYALGIA AND NEED DRUGS!

[I have recently been prescribed double the dose of Ritalin previously prescribed because each pill keeps me awake for only eight hours. I'm trying to be awake for sixteen daily, like a normal person. So I called my doc and now am to take one in the morning and one later in the day.

Which I am very happy about, but may worry a friend of mine. I e-mailed her -- a postscript to an e-mail I previously sent to her -- explaining why more Ritalin is a good thing, though it's likely she doesn't think so.

Here's the e-mail:]

I wonder if you think more Ritalin is exactly what I don't need -- more drugs of any kind exactly what I don't need.

It's important to remember that my disorder is rather serious (the pain medication I take is the same given to terminal cancer patients... And not because I love painkillers but because I'm in equivalent pain), even though I act as though it's anything but. It affects every single facet of my life... And the drugs I take I take to attempt to crawl into the shadow of my former self.

I don't mean to put words in your mouth -- I just wanted to prevent you from worrying about my drug diet.

I wasn't able to talk to you for a month because I was sleeping so much (and so very very tired when I wasn't asleep). I finally was able to call you after I was put on Ritalin.

Everything I take I take to feel more normal... Not exactly better.

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FIBROMYALGIA TREATMENTS: WHAT WORKS!

I'm posting this so, hopefully, readers who have fibromyalgia can get to this post quickly to find out what works and what doesn't. Here's what works:

1) NARCOTICS.

OxyContin, tailored to the dose you, personally, need, for instance. But different people in chronic pain need different narcotics. Which is to write, as I have before, that some fibromyalgians will benefit most from hydrocodone, some from morphine, and so on.

The take-away from this being that the only thing that will reduce your pain by an appreciable level is a narcotic analgesic. Fuck anyone and anything that touts a "natural" cure.

Well, I got ahead of myself: Fuck anything that says it's a "cure." By definition, fibro is incurable. If you thought you had fibro but it went away through one or another action(s), you didn't have fibro and please shut the fuck up because the people who actually have it are being hoist with your petard by the thousands.

My own mother told me about someone she knows who has fibro, but who does not experience daily, constant pain. I had to refer her to the exact diagnostic criteria to show her she had a hypochondriac (or wicked asshole) on her hands (and wasn't told the name of the person because I wanted to track her down and give her a taste of the pain she, despite "having fibro," wasn't in. ...Such is the insanity induced by my pain.)

Fibro is coming to encompass too many things that it is not because of inept doctors and moronic patients.

Anyone who knows anything about fibro is a pain specialist, pure, simple. And knows: Fibro is pain. Treat it with painkillers.

There are diets you can read about that claim they can cure you. If the diet cures you, you have Celiac's Disease, not fibro. Both cause quite similar symptoms.

Please, everyone who does not have fibro, shut the fuck up so fibromyalgians can be treated properly, so the disorder can get some goddam respect -- stop keeping us in the limbo of having been diagnosed with a pseudo-disorder, while you can simply cut gluten out of your diet and live pain-free, but unable to eat pizza.

...Trust me: Fibromyalgians feel your pain, douchebag.

2) NOTHING ELSE.

Only narcotic analgesics help people with fibro.

Sure, Lyrica may bring your pain down one number on the pain scale, but the extra fifty pounds you gain that it puts on your joints and vertebra are going to put your pain right back where it was.

Cymbalta: Doctors will be happy to give you this, along with thirty-or-so pills/injections that will do nothing or next to it, instead of prescribing you narcotics. (Pain relief from an NSRI. ...If I could laugh at that I wouldn't be able to catch my breath and drop dead, blue as a Smurf...)

However it is, by its weak ability to increase the amount of dopamine in one's brain (not by increasing norepinephrine, as most docs will say) also capable of bringing your pain down maybe one point on the scale.

But you'll still feel suicidally painful if you actually have fibro.

In short: Narcotics are the answer. Narcotics are the only treatment that works for fibromyalgia.

This must be accepted by doctors, and narcotic analgesic treatment must be insisted upon by patients (please see previous posts for all the crap I had to go through to finally get chronic opioid analgesic therapy).

If your pain isn't enough to make you cry your lungs out every day for a dose of morphine or oxycodone, chances are you don't have fibro and you're harming everyone who actually has the disorder. Find out what you really have, and don't let your doctor diagnose you as a fibromyalgian despite the fact you don't have a single trigger/tender point.

If your pain hasn't made you wish you were dead since it started, please get the correct diagnosis and shut the fuck up about fibromyalgia.

Please, as this disease becomes understood, let doctors and patients realize, together, the only effective treatment for it: narcs.

To anyone who can be helped with anything else enough to matter: You don't have fibro. You're not helping yourself by being misdiagnosed with fibromyalgia, and you're hurting everyone who has fibromyalgia by going with whatever bullshit treatment you're being given (I could go into cortisol here) and finding that it helps your so-called fibromyalgia...

I understand that fibro is irresistable to hypochondriacs... Fibro is quite an easy disorder to pretend you have if you do your homework.

The problems is that you fuckers are helped with placebos, with Lyrica, with Cymbalta -- you're in studies yourselves and keeping out true fibromyalgians and making sure that our treatment stays bullshit.

To all fibro-pretenders: Just let me press down with my thumb on a certain place in your lower back for about thirty seconds, and we'll know what you have and do not have.

[Jesus, did the ire rise today. And I've been happy all day, too. ...I never know what's in my head until I sneeze it out.

Pain: 4/5. Debilitating, the best it will get... though I may want to think about upping to 50mg Oxy next month... Still too soon to say for sure -- I need to see exactly what 40mg can do, and it's been only a week now.

Anxiety: 4/10. Debilitating, the best it will get.

I would not dare complain that my conditions are managed as well as they are... I believe I feel the best I possibly can.

Still, I do miss being able to lift more than ten pounds...]

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MIGRAINE!

I just woke up from a nap. Goddam my goddam head hurts so so so much ("faithful" readers can take pleasure in the fact this blasphemer is stewing in his own sin)...

...I fell asleep just before I was supposed to take my second dose of OxyContin, and am now waiting for it to kick in, having taken it within 30 seconds of waking -- four hours off schedule.

...The same migraine as every day, but unmitigated by drugs... Railroad spike through my right eye, another through the right temple... The skin and (seemingly) bone on the right half of my face and head firing nerves that yell loud as Godzilla pain pain pain... I can't stand the sound of my fingers hitting the keys but have to type, to do something to take my mind off the agony... Even if it won't won't won't work how could it ever... Pain jumps from the tips of my fingers, reverberates, amplifying itself every time it seems to bounce from one inner surface of my skull to another... Every square millimeter of the air attacking me like a million manta stings to the eyes through the simple act of seeing...

But in an hour all this will be a shadow.

How did I survive with these fucking migraines for so long without strong painkillers?

...Oh yeah, I was going to kill myself if Dr ML&S didn't intervene.

...It's a pity party! And only those who brought gifts can redeem their invitations...

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IF I HAD SKATED YESTERDAY!:

Yesterday I walked around the local skate park because the outdoor section just opened for the year. Then I walked around the local college's campus to see what I am missing now that I can't skate.

...Why the masochism?...

And, since I can't skate, I made up this story on what happened yesterday. I made sure the experience sucked so I wouldn't hate the fact that I'm now lame and can only walk.

...Maybe I need Heelys...

Anyway: "Yesterday":

Skating sucked yesterday... In the outdoor section, all the (wooden) ramps at the skate park were warped from the winter, and dropping in was like picking my way through a minefield... "OK I'll drop in here, have to miss those nails and that indentation (on the vertical part of the ramp, no less), then deal with the crack right before the fun box (at some parks not-so-aptly named), then immediately get my feet together for a 180 -- but have to jump before the exposed screw at the top of the box -- then land and navigate fakie (backwards) between the water puddles."

After only two hours of dealing with the not-so-fun boxes and treacherous ramps I ended up going to Lummox University. The place is even more of a skate park now than it was when I was a teenager, learning everything I know now. I was totally blown away: the perfect street course. Rails of all lengths and gradations of steepness, a huge gap to 180 over that allowed you to choose, by picking your launch spot, how far you needed to jump and how far you wanted to drop, and on and on.

And all within an area the size of a football field.

Why did I even go to the park? I already had jammed my left shoulder by misjudging my speed when launching to a disaster soul... I had no idea I would be going as fast as I was, since I hadn't dropped in on the ramp I used until that trick, and so I seemed to hang in the air after my jump, waiting to come down to earth so my skates could catch the ledge. My back skate did, but by then my front foot didn't know what to do with itself. I had almost launched the entire fun box, and I was straightening my skate out to land on the flat just when it caught the last half-foot of the ledge.

This made my front foot wash over the top of the ledge. which led to my entire body spinning ninety degrees atop the ledge, then to me taking the two-foot drop (from ledge to ground -- five feet for my shoulder) on my shoulder. At speed.

Back to the university:

I decided to give it a go at my favorite rail of all time -- an aluminum tube made smooth by thousands of previous grinds, hundreds of them my own -- long enough to make you proud you could actually lock in and ride out your grind for that long, but not long enough that if you fell you would be going too fast and hurt yourself (the rail runs down eleven steps).

I had a porn star (grind -- my balance mostly on the soul of my front skate, my back skate on the rail between my second and third wheels) locked in on my fourth try, but was a little off balance when I came off the rail fakie, my preferred may to dismount rails (the best-looking), with my left wheels not quite level with the ground. My boot was almost sliding along the concrete -- and all my weight was on that skate. This caused me to bend my knees until my ass almost touched the ground and my arms to spin like windmill blades as I attempted to get my balance onto my right skate.

Suddenly my left foot gave out entirely. My left skate's ankle strap exploded which, I soon found out, carved scrapes into my lower leg as it buckled into the skate. The scrapes on my lower leg, together, look like a shark bite.

(From pseudo-landing the grind to buckle explosion took only about two seconds, in which I covered a distance of about five feet.)

Naturally, I immediately removed the broken skate and heaved it into a wall while yelling FUCK! as loud as I could. I had almost proved to myself that I was perhaps three-fourths as good a skater as I had been almost a decade ago.

...My behavior is not kid-friendly in that it is completely childish, I thought as some parents who walked by gave me reproachful looks, holding their kid's head between them as though trying to insulate his mind from the word I had yelled. They turned away from me the moment I looked at them, vehement, likely afraid that my anger at botching the landing could be turned on them...

I calmed down an iota as I thought the situation over, seething while examining my skate: that's what the ankle strap is for: to break in a situation that would otherwise break your ankle. So I suppose I can't complain too much.

I should definitely use the broken-skate-thing as a reason/excuse to finally quit skating... But my christ it's harder to give up than smoking...

[Lots of fiction lately. I apologize, but guarantee it's more interesting than any presentation I could give of my actual life.

In case you're curious:

Pain seems to be about 5/10 with 40mg OxyContin daily, but more experience at this dose is, of course, necessary.

Anxiety with 6mg Klonopin daily: 5/10. A friend and I agreed a few days ago that "If you're not freaked right the fuck out all the time, you're not thinking hard enough."

...The things you let yourself believe to get by...]

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MUSIC TO SOOTHE SAVAGE FIBROMYALGIA: THE ARCADE FIRE!

This is Intervention and Wake Up (performed at the T), my two favorite songs by The Arcade Fire.

I've seen these guys twice. The first time I saw them they were on their first tour, visiting the 9:30 club in Wash., DC. Watch out for the guy with the crazy hair, the big drum, the harpsichord, the guitar, the tambourine, the kitchen sink. At 9:30 he left the stage at the end of the show by climbing the wall somehow, swinging over to the balcony and going through a Staff Only door.

Until that show I had only listened to the (first) album a few times, and liked it quite a lot. Still, at the time I was into an all-Arts-&-Crafts-bands-all-the-time kick. But a friend of mine knew if he invited me I wouldn't turn him down (I owe that bastard) because I'll see any band, within reason.

(Wow. I could knock so many bands right now... Good thing fibro fog is preventing me, right now, from coming up with any bands I hate... And recalling bands I hate likely is further complicated by the fact that I don't listen to them or think about them.)

Moving along: Since the show at 9:30 I've loved the Fire intensely (my wordplay, especially when unintentional, makes me cringe). In my not-humble opinion (all who disagree are simply wrong), seeing Wake Up live will change your life forever, and much for the better. There's nothing like screaming/moaning at the top of one's lungs in tune with thousands of people... Cathartic.

The last time I saw them I knew I had fibro. I screamed and screamed.

Everyone screamed with me.

[I likely will not post tomorrow since I will be getting back, then, from a short trip I'm taking today. I'd rather not go, however, because I forgot to take my Oxy last night and wish I had died in my sleep and was on the coroner's slab right now instead of about to go someplace and have to put on a smiley... But I am proud of myself, at least, for not doubling-up this morning...

I'll be getting back here late tomorrow night. Traveling makes me super-anxious, so I'll be drunk as hell when I return and just crawl into bed. ...That's the plan at least.

PS: The above "drunk as hell" bit was a lie. I would never drink on OxyContin, Klonopin and Prozac. What am I, stupid, and with anxiety that can't be controlled, when travel is involved, even by the holy trinity (POK)? The nerve (of me to pretend I know what you actually thought after reading what I wrote)!

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DEALING WITH THE FALLOUT FROM MY PREVIOUS E-MAIL TO X!:

[The below is my response to an e-mail X sent me after the e-mail I sent to her, and previously posted.]

I truly didn't mean to cause a shitstorm here.

Anyway, my problems were never that I was abusing drugs -- my problems were fibro and everything that comes with it, plus under-treated generalized anxiety disorder.

Tons of shit comes with fibro... Likely everything you thought was caused by drugs.

But now I'm on 30mg OxyContin, 6mg Klonopin, 60mg Prozac daily -- just-about optimal treatment. The problem before was that I was not on the right drugs, nor the right dosages.

I am unbelievably better now and probably feel as good as I ever will (though my Oxy probably will get bumped up a bit).

If you thought I was having a drug problem, you should have brought it up... You would have found out that I haven't been on Percocet (drugs) since early January. I've had to do without any pain medication for months, and that has been the cause of all my problems. I even came close to offing myself...

And after going through all that, to be so misunderstood is incredibly hurtful. This is obviously the worst time in my life so far (and hopefully in my entire life), but we DO talk about you and your problems primarily.

Granted, I'm not incredibly forthcoming when it comes to mine... But shit -- can't you figure out that losing my life as I knew it was/is incredibly tumultuous? Did you really need me to spell it out?

And I'm sorry, but there are many times that you make me feel like the only reason you don't "lose ME" is because I am useful to you, in that I can predict what your douchbag ex was/is doing.

I don't want to "lose you." I just want you to get rid of the fucking fuck somehow...

So what I wrote was off the mark. I missed one out of 100. I apologize. I just wish the fucker was out of your life so we could talk about anything else but that thing that continues wasting the rest of the world's oxygen...

I didn't want to offend you, and I apologize for doing so.

But christ, can't you block his numbers? Can't you do SOMEthing more than what you're doing?

And I don't know why I seemed to go off today... My head feels strange now that it is clear. Or as clear as it ever has been since I have had fibro.

Maybe I was having a Woe-Is-Me moment for some reason and decided everyone else's problems are minuscule compared to mine and that I didn't have to be civil.

Probably the case, and I don't know why.

I apologize. ...And I know part of my behavior is that I'm almost as sick of your rat-fucker of an ex as you are...

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MY E-MAIL TO A FRIEND I APPEAR TO WANT TO LOSE (BUT DO NOT)!

[This response is to an e-mail from someone who got back from a vacation and e-mailed me to let me know that and a bit more. The "bit more" is explained below.]

I just got back from a walk, a shrink's appt. before that, and now I need a nap after a quick post to my blog, which I may just put off... Hulk tired.

Glad you're alive. Hope you had fun in Some Place You Visited.

Call the goddam cops on your ex and his whole fucking family already.

[This girl -- let's call her X -- is being kinda-stalked by her ex-boyfriend (receiving phone calls and text messages long after the relationship has been over, having told him she doesn't want to hear from him again, but getting the messages, etc. nonetheless... Still, she responds to the communications, even if only to say "stop it.") Wacko's sister is even in on the act, having invited X out to dinner a month ago just to ask her all the questions her nutty brother wanted answers to -- "seeing anyone," etc.

OK, let me amend "psudo-stalked" to Scary-Stalked Family-Style.]

...My guess is you don't because on some level you like the attention -- and especially the fact that you can drive someone absolutely batshit insane. (Though he was going to be that anyway, without you, sweetie pie -- sorry to write that it's not you... You were just there when he had his psychotic break...)

...So keep the game going, by all means.

...Apologies if the above seems crude, but I am an ass, after all, tired, in pain, excuses excuses.

...I'm going to be out tomorrow. Hanging out with Y, actually. ["Actually" because X knows Y.] She's the only person in Lummox I know besides Z... Good thing her musical taste is impeccable.

Later on I'll explain the magic of fibro fog to you, aka cognitive memory disorder. Basically, it's akin to having ADD... I can't recall what was said five minutes ago unless the context is explicitly re-discussed or I think about it for a while... And I mean think about it for about five minutes... The big test psychologists and shrinks give me, which I fail miserably, is that I cannot remember a list of things read to me -- one test was five things, the other only three shapes of different colors -- after having a conversation for five minutes.

Kick ass!

It's all new and wonderful... a sort of metamorphosis I have no problem dealing with... Or at least accept, as what cannot be escaped must be.

...And soon, disability and Portland. Dropping out of the workaday world for the rest of my life. This last has been a goal of mine for years, since I became enamored of socialism...

But is fibro too high a price to pay?

Before I was put on OxyContin, my answer would have been a definitive FUCK YES.

Now the jury is hung; dead... But probably was one hold-out away from returning a verdict of FUCK YES before being strung up.

Cheers

--CB

PS: I thought I would take this opportunity to update you on my situation, though I'm sure you couldn't care less since all we talk about is you you you... I'm sorry that I'm too drained already, today, to be further wearied by tackling your problems.

...Please know the above is not meant to be mean, not anything against you, but only the statement of a fact both of us know.

PPS: I probably will post this to my blog, leaving out any details that could identify anyone discussed here because I'm fucking lazy and think posting my correspondence provides a good window into my heart of darkness...

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HERE'S HOPING MY TENS UNIT WILL EASE MY FIBROMYALGIA!

Today I had my second-to-last physical therapy appointment. My therapist, who I refer to as Mary Cassatt, worked with my insurance and got me a TENS (Transcutaneous Electrical Nerve Stimulation) unit for free. Love her -- which explains why she gets a great name and people like Dr. Douchebag get names like Dr. Douchebag (those who follow this blog will know that he's the shrink who cut my Klonopin dose from 6mg to 4mg per day before he knew anything about my case. I've been super-anxious ever since he did that, and he doesn't care one bit. What a fucking douchebag...).

So I'm about to watch TV and electrocute the hell out of myself for the rest of the night. Should be fun!

...I'm also definitely getting used to the 30mg of OxyContin per day that I'm on. Yesterday (or today, to nitpick) I went to sleep at about 2:00 and woke at 10:00. Not bad. And I didn't feel like I had to dive under my bed's covers at 8:00 pm like I have every preceding day this week. Good stuff!

And today I don't feel tired or apathetic at all, plus I'm not getting motion sickness. Pretty sweet!

So I currently use only Oxy, Klonopin, Prozac, and a TENS unit to control my pain (from fibro) and generalized anxiety disorder (which is really, left unchecked, a 24/7 panic attack). And I think I may as well drop the Prozac. But I'll probably have to wait to get out of my parents' house to do that, since they figure I may as well take it since it may be doing something and it's cheap because I get the generic: fluoxetine.

But, the Prozac, I am all but sure, is doing nothing. Studies show that antidepressants are only slightly better than placebos. ...And I've been on every SSRI, SNRI, Gabitril, et al, and none of them helped. I have always needed Klonopin, and have been on large doses of benzodiazepines since age eighteen. It's the only thing that works for my anxiety at all and, therefore, the only thing I truly believe I should be taking for it.

So after all the crap with all my doctors -- I've seen about fifteen in all for my fibro -- I'm simply going to be on Klonopin, OxyContin, and use a TENS unit.

Very, very simple. The doctors I see and have seen, of course, had to make it as fucking hard as possible for me to get to this point -- trying probably around thirty drugs in all that didn't work, under-treating my pain and anxiety while doing so (except for Dr. L in DC. Guy is a genius, and provided me with the most stable period of my life by taking such good care of my GAD in my pre-fibro days).

To wrap things up: I have known for years that all I truly need are OxyContin and Klonopin. But it has taken years to get down to just these two (after I wean myself off Prozac/fluoxetine).

Most doctors do not listen. And most have their favorite therapies. And most hate to prescribe their patients Oxy and Klonopin because they're potentially addictive and can induce tolerance.

BUT NOT IN PEOPLE WITH FIBROMYALGIA AND AN ANXIETY DISORDER.

Doctors need to wake the hell up to the above reality.

Now for some electrocution!

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MUSIC TO SOOTHE SAVAGE FIBROMYALGIA: INTERPOL!

Still getting used to OxyContin... Though maybe a bit less tired, overall, today. Then again, I usually don't feel like I have to totally crash until 8:00, on the nose. If I do go to sleep then, I wake at midnight and can't get back to sleep until 4:00 or 5:00, then sleep until about noon.

...While I remain useless, please enjoy No I In Threesome:

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STILL GETTING ACCUSTOMED TO OXYCONTIN...!

I am so very tired...

Especially after going crazy in physical therapy. I am in pain, having a bit of a panic attack, and need some Klonopin and a nap.

Which is what's I'm going to take and what I'm going to do.

I should be accustomed to this side-effect (feeling logy) in a week or so.

In the meantime, this blog could be a bit boring, I'm afraid. But the excitement should return around Sunday.

In the meantime, I'll post what I can and try to make it interesting...

Hopefully I have interesting dreams while I sleep the clock around...

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OXYCONTIN, SOCIAL SECURITY, AND HELL!

I couldn’t post yesterday because my server was down. So here’s what happened yesterday:

I had to fill out new forms for my lawyers who only now are getting around to processing my change of address. ...I guess this is what happens when you hire a big firm and they switch your caseworker one billion times on you: Important things are shunted into the memory Hole. (Note to self: I’ve used “Memory Hole” too much lately.)

So I had to fill in a form to let my current caseworker know that she needs to check out my six new doctors -- my psychologist, my neuropsychologist, my GP, my pain management specialist, my psychiatrist and my physical therapist.

So the ball is rolling in Jesusland... But that ball feels a lot like the boulder Sisyphus rolls...

Also, I’ve been taking 30mg OxyContin daily, and have yet to adjust to its side-effects. namely, I get motion sickness from being in a car for two minutes and constantly feel tired.

This, too, shall pass.

Also (I’m wicked-awesome at transitions...), I’m finishing Dante’s Inferno today. It has failed to bring me back into the Catholic fold because the people he finds in hell who are punished harshly are the people he, personally, hates the most.

So this atheist, apparently, is only going to hell if Dante is my judge, and finds my character unbecoming...

It would seem I will end up with the Virtuous Pagans. In which case, the Citadel provides all the light I will need.

...Then again, I’ve had freaky sex (“freaky” in Dante’s view, includes oral and probably any position but missionary), so I suppose I could be cast about with the Sodomites. But, then, Dante put three of his favorite writers in with the Sodomites, and writes that their fate seems not-too harsh. ...And is the only person to ever suggest that these persons were Sodomites.

It seems to me that, before he took a break in writing the Inferno, Dante would have cast them in with the Virtuous Pagans, if not placed them in Purgatory, had he not wanted to talk to them so badly.

So my afterlife, according to Dante, should not be so bad... At least I’m not one of his hated popes. Then again, he judges everyone but the Florentines to be incredibly sinful people... But it should serve me well that I am not from any of the Italian places he names that are full of nothing but Grafters, etc.

Which brings me to this larger point: All religious people would place in Hell those they, personally, detest.

Leave it to divine judgment and shut the fuck up, people!

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FIBROMYALGIA + BAD SKATING = OW!

I went skating today. The first pic is my left knee, the second is my right:



Note how the left is already so swollen my patella is almost hard to make out.

I went for a disaster torque (grind): I went down a mini-ramp, jumped off a three-foot-high launch, and I actually had the trick -- on a ledge five-and-a-half-ish feet in the air, balanced between the third and fourth wheel of my frame and on my tweaked left boot. Then... Well, something happened.

I don't think it sunk in that I actually had the grind. It was stupid of me to try it in the first place because it was my second time out in two years... But a bunch of grommets were blocking the fun box and I had grown sick of running into and then yelling at them.

So when I came to the end of the ledge I didn't know how to land -- forward, backward? What if I just let things sort themselves out and drop straight down onto my knee and bash the smaller ledge below?

...The latter is what I went with.

...So the above makes it a good time to talk about how the OxyContin is working (I started taking it today because I was a little excited). I've taken two pills today, 10mg each (and have found out that taking 10mg of OxyContin means taking only about 8mg to 9mg of oxycodone over a period of time), and things seem to be well. I take another at bedtime. I may not have to take as much oxycodone in the time-release preparation because it provides round-the-clock relief. I won't be building up a massive migraine in my sleep every night...

However, the lower dose of oxycodone means that my IBS is... er, causing problems... (I promise never to discuss IBS in any detail.) But my pain is still about a 6/10... Unless you count my damaged knee and how it feels...

...Well, then I guess my pain would be a 6/10 nevertheless. Fibro puts one in such a state of pain that, as I've told many doctors, I'm sure I could take a bullet in the gut and hardly give a shit. ...The positive spin is that I would actually be able to drive myself to the ER with one hand and hold in my intestines with the other.

So I suppose my point, then, is rather well illustrated: Whatever I did to my knee to make it balloon like it has did not increased my pain one iota. It's simply impossible to bend the fucker.

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OXYCONTIN!: THE CLOSEST THING TO A CURE FOR FIBROMYALGIA?(!)

My apologies for not posting in a while. I spent the past few days at my younger brother's and couldn't post because it would have been rude.

So now I'm very tired and about to nap, sitting here, upright.

But I felt the need to write that I have been prescribed OxyContin, and look forward to starting taking it because I believe it is likely to be the best way to manage my pain. I'm going to start taking Oxy Monday because I'm going to go to the local skate park tomorrow. My pain is that much more tolerable, and my life that much better, that I can resume the activity that, after writing and sex, gives my life purpose!

...It's important to note, here, that doctors will tell you that narcotics will turn you into a zombie who never will leave his/her couch.

More bullshit(which is all you should expect to hear when a doctor talks about narcotic/opiate analgesics). When you take someone's pain level down to a tolerable level, they can stop being a zombie, get off the couch and do what they will. Before treatment the person was in too much pain to be able to move much. You take away the pain, you take away the impetus behind the person's near-immobility.

...I'm going to be taking 10mg pills every eight hours, so the dosing is more convenient... Better than taking five Percocets every three hours and fifteen minutes, anyway.

I just hope me taking 10mg of OxyContin doesn't mean I'll only be getting 30mg of oxycodone per day. That would seem to be a step back in my treatment, since I currently take 50mg of oxycodone per day.

Of course, you'll be able to read all about how well things go this week. But I'm cautiously optimistic!

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CLEAN PISS!

I got a call today: My drug test came back quickly, and I'm clean... But for the oxycodone, of course.

Much rejoicing...

Dr ML&S will see me Friday, at which point I'll discuss upping my dose, and taking straight oxy instead of Percocet, which has Tylenol. Right now I take five pills a day, 10mg oxy, 325mg APAP (aka Tylenol) per pill. Fibromylagia is a disorder one has for one's entire life, incurable as of this writing (and I'm not holding my breath for one...).

So I need to be on oxycodone for the rest of my life. But here's the trick: Most doctors give you oxycodone or morphine or whatever in a preparation like Vicodin, Percocet, and on because they want to be able to catch you overdosing -- or at least catch you taking more than they had prescribed.

Here's how it's done: by prescribing oxycodone, morphine, etc pills that contain Tylenol/APAP. Four grams of Tylenol is an overdose. The whites of your eyes will turn yellow as my clean piss and you'll get liver damage for the rest of your life if you take more than that. And doctors definitely don't want you taking more than is prescribed.

So, daily I'm ingesting 1,625mg of APAP so my doctor can be sure that I won't take a megadose of oxy.

Why would I? I have a certain number of pills for a set number of days. If I take more one day I screw myself the next. And I think it's been established that I do not like pain, and so avoid it or, perhaps more accurately, elide it as much as is possible. I do so, now, by taking five Percs a day.

I would like to be prescribed oxycodone, nothing but, because APAP is worse for you than the oxy. In fact, taking APAP daily for the remainder of my life is bound to eventually compromise my liver.

Also, to purify my pills and take nothing but oxy I would only have to perform a simple cold-water extraction of it from pulverized Percs, five times daily. In fact, if I am to be prescribe nothing but Percocet, I plan on performing cold-water extractions of it to help my liver out.

(Google "cold-water extraction" and vicodin or percocet to know how this is done... But I can't recommend that everyone or even anyone do this because I don't want some fucker suing me because they are able to take an oxy overdose after performing extractions. And Tylenol does prevent that. But in this awful way: You'll die from a Tylenol overdose well before you'll die from having taken too much oxy.)

Of course, doctors will tell you that the APAP enhances the effects of oxy, so you have to take less of the narcotic itself. Pure bullshit. Narcotics come with APAP so doctors can easily know if you've tried to take too much of what you've been prescribed.

...And the "easy way" will land you in the emergency room, and you'll be lucky to live through your APAP overdose. Better you had OD-ed on oxy. Far easier to survive, and no permanent damage done to any of your organs, most likely.

(I do not endorse the taking of oxycodone by anyone but me. Is my ass covered now?)

The truth is that opiates/opioids are the safest drugs to take. If you take too much you'll fall asleep -- the only "negative" effect. However, if you're trying to kill yourself, I suppose it's a great way to go. You'll get high as Stalin was on power and syphilis -- unless you suffer from chronic pain and, therefore, can never get high off pain medication -- and die from respiratory depression.

But I have no idea how much oxy that takes. I would guess approximately one assload.

...And anecdotal evidence shows that heroin addicts live a damn long time. Their shit can be cut with strychnine and it's apparently safer than Tylenol.

...Was all the above simply a way to justify what will be my reasonable request for 30 more milligrams of oxy when I see Dr ML&S Friday, and to not have the oxy coupled with APAP? Why do I feel the need to justify it at all?

In any case, I hope I, at least, spread some pro-narc pro-propaganda...

I hope to write about my progress in physical therapy tomorrow... But if you've been following this blog, you know I often plan on writing about something and then get completely sidetracked.

Nothing like a good tangent... (And a good tangent, in my eyes, is any one that doesn't involve trigonometry.)

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PROBLEM SOLVED?(!)

I wrote a letter to Dr ML&S, delivered it this morning, and was taking another piss test this afternoon.

If this one shows up clean -- and I have every reason to believe it will -- he will continue to see me, and to prescribe Percocet.

Whew!

I would transcribe the note for you, but I don't have it. I believe it's now part of my chart at Lummox Family Medical (too lazy to see if that's consistent nomenclature for where I go to see Dr 9 and ML&S).

But what had pissed off Dr ML&S most about my previous test is that he thought I lied to him. I was honest when I said I had ganked a morphine from I won't say who, but didn't tell him I smoked weed.

...I didn't because I don't. So the letter I wrote described to him why I didn't tell him THC would show up in my piss: it didn't occur to me that it would or even could.

I also made sure to let him know that he saved my life, literally, because I was seriously contemplating suicide before he wrote the Percocet prescription. I also let him know of my incredible improvement in physical therapy.

So he's a great guy for letting me take another test. This results of this one should come back to me in two days. Then, when all is well, I will see the doc on Friday, at which point we'll discuss my situation since I saw him last. I plan on asking for 20mg more of oxycodone -- and to ask for it straight up -- without the added Tylenol. Since I'm going to need oxy the rest of my life, the last thing I need is APAP eating away at my stomach and liver.

So all should be well!

...What a freaking relief...

[Pain: 5/5.

Anxiety: 7/10.

And if you're visiting this site after being redirected from Wordpress: Welcome! Hope you like the new digs!]

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AN ANVIL HAS BEEN DROPPED ON MY NUTS (PLUS TURING MACHINE: DON'T MIND IF I DON'T)!

I found out today through a letter that Dr ML&S sent me that he may not prescribe me any more Percocet because some THC showed up in my piss. He says he is unlikely to see me anymore as a patient (as opposed to us seeing each other as lovers who are into S&M so heavily that every sexual encounter we have almost kills one of us), even though he believes wholeheartedly that Percocet is exactly what I need.

Insanity insanity insanity...

I'm going to write him a letter, to be dropped off Monday, letting him know that, though he thinks he prescribed me enough Percs to last me until Dr 9 comes back from vacation, he did, in fact, only prescribe me enough for two weeks, not the four it would take to tide me over until I can talk to Dr 9 about him taking over prescribing Percs.

I'm also going to let him know I didn't tell him THC may show up in my piss when I saw him Monday because it didn't occur to me that it would or could. I was around smokers the Thursday before I saw him and didn't smoke, myself. The test must be ncredibly sensitive and the amount of THC minuscule.

Right now my stomach is cramping I'm so anxious. I'm swallowing 4mg of Klonopin now (done), and can't write because thinking about this is making me so physically ill.

More later.

Until then, please enjoy Turing Machine while I enjoy a massive panic attack!

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LACK OF HATE = WRITER'S BLOCK?(!)

Since I have been on Percocet -- Monday -- I have found it hard to sit and write.

This could be because I still am getting used to the slight lethargy I'm experiencing as a side-effect of the oxycodone (active ingredient in Perc)... But, then, I went on an hour-long walk in foot-deep snow today...

So I seem to be finding it difficult to write about my medical situation now that I have little to bitch about.

Well, I certainly don't want my situation to change... But I need to keep writing.

I think that means I need to provide the story of how all this started: From my fibro diagnosis, to my resignation from The Washington Post, to me applying for Social Security Disability, to me having to leave Washington, DC because I was one step away from living on the street (ran out of money, ran up credit cards, sucked dry all savings) to, finally, moving back in with my parents and having to start over with new doctors.

I think that's how things are going to go.

Of course, while we're catching up with the past, I will continue to provide updates regarding all my current visits with my doctors and my physical therapist.

Speaking of Cassatt, my latest appointment with her was Tuesday. For the first time I was able to use the exercise machines in a way that actually made them sense that they were, in fact, being used. During all my previous visits I was barely able to move the pedaler (you sit down and push down with your feet, alternating left and right) and the arm bicycle (you use your hands in the same way your feet pedal a bicycle).

Immediate, considerable progress, brought to you by Percocet.

...It's amazing to think, now, of just how badly I wanted to die just last Sunday!

I also talked with Cassatt about her getting in touch with my insurance company (Thievery Corporation... Check out the group/club owners in DC I borrowed this name from) to see how much it will cost me to get my own e-stim machine. Hopefully it won't be much, since I already have met my insurance deductible for the year.

...Huh. Maybe I can still write, if I can get my ass behind my desk. But is it interesting without the hate behind it?

Stay tuned!

[Pain: 5/5.

Anxiety: 8/10.]

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REASON TO LIVE? YOU KNOW HOW TO SPELL IT!

P-E-R-C-O-C-E-T!

Dr 9's stand in has me on 10/325s x 5 per day (10mg oxycodone, 325mg APAP) for now. I see him in two weeks, when we will talk about the dose and my past medical records (from Dr W), bloodwork from a few months ago, etc.

CHRONIC OPIOID ANALGESIC THERAPY!

Pain is a 5/5!

Things were getting horribly bleak, and I have christened Dr 9's stand-in Dr ML&S for My Lord & Saviour, accordingly.

That's all for now!

[Anxiety: 10/10. I had to pee in a cup on Monday, when I saw Dr ML&S. I watched Lost with some pot smokers Thursday, but didn't partake... If my piss is dirty it could affect my treatment... Plus Dr Douchebag has me on Douchebag-level treatment for my anxiety, of course.

So I call Super-Mega-Ultra-Not-Jinx so that everything works out! (And yes... I consider myself rational, but for a few insane superstitions. At least I recognize them to be insane... And most of them are OCD-ish tendencies, not real superstitions.)]

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