I’ve been trying to write #18 and #19 for days (or so it seems). Pain trumped (gotta stop using that word) most things. Breaking my resolve not to take NSAIDs for my stomach’s sake. Took ibuprofen – better for inflammation, worse for my stomach. (Tylenol is the absolute worst; I can tolerate aspirin!) Of course, my doses of NSAIDs are prescription-sized as I’ve been taking them since I was around 2. That’s a lot of years and bottles of NSAIDs. Guess I could do my self-like first: I have asked for opioids, yet, for this pain increase. Nor steroids which is what I had to take last time my face exploded – especially my upper left jaw. I am tired of the pain, but I try and suck it up. Not because you’re supposed to, but because resources are limited.
And, it’s a personal thing. I used to take large doses of morphine, reduced by taking Lyrica for my referred nerve pain, then off even for break-through pain. When I broke the tip of my right Great Trochanter (piece of bone at the top of the femur where the major muscles attach), I did ask for them. And the year before when I shifted my sacroiliac. I had a small stash of “left-overs” from days I didn’t take all I could, but that got used up for various break-through or other pain issues. So, I want to hang tough for a while at least. And, I’m usually given such a low dose, the oxy or the morphine still need NSAIDs. It’s all a betting game. Which is worse: back on opioids, if I can even get them – can’t see the doctor I used to due to insurance — and maybe steroids. If you want to see ‘roid rage, give steroids to a bipolar person. So, I walk around with lidocaine patches on my face.
As for thankful, well, I guess that I, so far, have the potential to ask for pain medication. I am the walking wounded. Still walking, so far. (Can’t yet tempt fate by not adding a qualifier). Looks like landlady is going to add some more flowers to the garden – unfortunately I guerrilla gardened while they were away and added some of my own. Ooopppsss, conflicting cosmos, battling brown eyed susans, heaving heather. Got laundry done, fingernails dirty, but no walks. Today, a walk and a shower, I hope. Time to go rest. After sleeping so much, I was awake for 42 hours straight. Oh, the joys of f’d circadian rhythms and rapid cycling bipolar 2.