Wednesday, February 11, 2015

Pain is the Name of the Game

February 10, 2015 - Today I hit a new low.

After a mildly contentious morning in court, the pain in my lower back became so bad, so damn excrutiating, I had to leave.  Hurriedly handing over my remaining two cases to my very sympathetic supervisor, I gathered my possessions (having had to ask a coworker to pick my purse up off the floor, since bending over was a practical impossibility at that point) and headed out, probably looking like a crippled blue crab from behind. I left the courthouse and the remainder of my workday.  I left my routine, my planned projects and my responsibilities.  I left behind that feeling of accomplishment I'd enjoyed just the night before, when I'd happily worked late, and finished knocking out two quality petitions;  I'd engaged in trial prep with case managers during the afternoon;  I worked good and hard and productively during the entire day and I was happy. That was yesterday and this was today.

I went home and for the first few hours could not even think about climbing the stairs to my bedroom.  I could not get comfortable on the couch. I could not eat, although I tried, and it wasn't until 3:30 that I could finish the blueberry muffin I had started for breakfast.  Now I am going to go upstairs, close the door, and maybe leak a few tears, the ones I held back while briefly discussing a friend's return to chemotherapy after five obstensibly cancer-free years.

I take nothing stronger than Advil.  I am jusifiably terrified of pain-killers, addictive, destructive.  I cannot take Lyrica because of side effects, and I have been taking Cymbalta for years.  Neither Lyrica nor Cymbalta have ever given me a consistent degree of relief.  Lately I notice the Advil is unable to meet the level of discomfort I live with.  So I sleep because I can do nothing else.

"You're too young to be a hot mess."  That's what the nurse told me today after I explained why I had come into the doctor's office today.  It's tomorrow, and I knew from the moment I sat up in bed that I would not be able to go to work.  Pain is the name of the game.  My balance is off as well.  Stood on the doctor's scale and had to close my eyes.  Earlier, I contacted my office and let them know I would not be coming in, and I had cases that had to be covered in court.  I did not feel real good about having to do that.

What am I going to do?

Apparently, I am going to take more drugs.  Nothing like oxycontin or hydrocodone - I won't take that sh*t.  I've seen what happens when people take that stuff.  I've seen the lives it has ruined, the families it has destroyed.  Something that works on the nerves, like Lyrica, but of course I can't take Lyrica because it causes me to gain weight rapidly.  And another pill to help deal with depression.  Ha, my depression is in my bones like Stage 4 cancer.  The Cymbalta I have faithfully taken does help, a lot.  But not totally, so I'll try this other stuff, what the hell.

What am I going to do?  Well, I decided that I am going to do my trials tomorrow, come hell or high water.

And I'm going to beat this thing.

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