Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Minister of Relief? No longer.

It seems like an eon ago I had a conversation with my mother (now gone, she's passed from her own self destructive behavior of smoking), we were having one of the few open talks about what ails me.
Not often did she unlock the gate of secrecy and distrust between us but I think the pain in my eyes and the obvious suffering I was going through finally made contact with her. Maybe she felt connection with her own torment, she wrapped herself in suffering for as many years as I was able to recognize it.

The chat was about the pain I was having, I asked her, "Mom, did I always hurt?" there were so many years that I've literally blocked out of my life due to circumstances that would probably traumatize others to the point of ruining their chances of having normal social relationships and a public life.

Poor choices made by me started young including flirtations with young men, hell I was a good looking girl and stacked! How could a burgeoning youth, his hormones racing and his acquisitions beginning..resist?

My desperate need for affection was taking the wrong direction because I was ignored by my family and sought solace in my playmates.

During it all, not only were my affections emotional but physical. I craved the pampering and touch that takes away the hurt one feels. Consider if you've fallen and scraped a knee, didn't Mommy kiss it and make it all better? For me, I would have these unexplained aches and my inability to explain why left me reaching out for comfort. I couldn't explain anything more than 'it hurts' which went unheeded by family but fulfilled by boyfriends.
When it was listened to, it was dismissed as being 'in my head' or that I was seeking attention.

In my toddler years I'd experienced an illness that hospitalized me for an extended period of time; later in my life this was barely explained to me. I've since done some reading and feel it possibly contributes to the problems I suffer today.

The abuse I was subjected to from a mentally ill family has more than likely been internalized and now has manifested itself and contributes to these pains.

It's definitive that my pain is obvious to anyone that truly wants to see inside of me.

This cripples me, it doubles me over, but I try to swallow it for the most part because I do not want to see pity on my friends faces. I do not want dependence on medications that will have my mind lost in a fog but recently over the counter pain killers are just are not satisfying the hurt any longer.

My GI is extremely sensitive (go back and read blog from last week); I literally must have a bite to eat in order to take most medications and absolutely must if it's a narcotic or muscle relaxer or you can be certain it will be back up and out in rapid fire succession.

During the winter of 2008 after being ill with respiratory infections from late October until January 2009/February 2009 and using 5 different antibiotics we figured out that I was allergic to Doxycycline - every single time it went in it was back out!

oh my, it was as if someone had taken both hands and grabbed my stomach, started twisting it into a knot like would a wet dish rag. Twirling it in your hands and ready to snap it at someone perhaps more like a wet bath towel in the gym locker and 'SNAP' slap someones bottom.

The twisting, clenching + the snap are the combination of discomforts I am experiencing when I take the Doxy, all the while my face starts to flush and sweat, my throat starts to fill up - I'm choking on my own vomit and sweating profusely.

guess what? yesterday I dug up an old bottle of some pain killer and took it and this is how it left me feeling no sooner than 10 minutes from swallowing it. I was swooning with nausea.

This leaves me with a dilemma because my stash of pills (that help) is dwindling and my week has been so bad.

Every day I take 4, sometimes 5 Tylenol 20 minutes before I eat my meals because my mouth hurts when I eat (read last weeks blog), 2-3x daily I take an 800mg Ibuprofen to help with the swelling in my hands and feet. This week I've resorted to adding more to this concoction, which can't possibly be good since I already have poor liver function values each time I have blood work done at the doctor's office.

So yesterday, in the afternoon, dreading having dinner and another handful of pills I telephoned the doctor's office because I needed refills on other medications including my anticonvulsant) and asked to refill the pain med.

Not only was my anticonvulsant mis-labeled at the wrong dose, they told me that it must be MY mistake! then I was told that the doctor would no longer be prescribing me pain meds and that I could find a new pain management doctor to help me.

thank you, you insensitive and condescending fuckhead.

my mother's response, "your first words were, 'ouchie mommy' and you didn't do anything to hurt yourself that I'd witnessed"