I was betrayed.
I did exactly as I was told. I was told that if I take opiates exactly as I was told, I would be fine. I’m not fine!
I did not abuse my medication. I did not take more than I was supposed to take. As a matter of fact I was afraid of the medication, because I did not want to be an addict or one with a body dependent on the medication. But here I am 4 years later and I have been hospitalized because of the seizures and the sheer force of my body’s refusal to accept that I will not continue to put opiates in it.
I’m angry. I’m angry because I trusted the doctors. I needed some kind of way to live with this pain. I live at a level 8 pain every single solitary second of every single solitary day. I wanted and I needed help. They said this would work. They said I would not be an addict unless I abused. They said…. They said….. and they continued to say all of these things that are not true. So seizure after seizure after seizure and a body that felt once again like I needed to leave my skin ended up in the ER room. And there I was feeling like a drug addict, like I’d done something wrong, like I purposely put this in my body, like this is my fault!
I have is lupus. I have fibromyalgia. I have spinal stenosis, scoliosis and other “osises”. I also have a mind that is exhausted.
Now I’m trying to get all this out of my system because they are not helpful; in the long run they are nothing but a problem for me. They’re a problem for me because I won’t be able to stop taking them because of all the things I have going on. I’d rather not name what I’m being given to assist me in the next week or so because this is not a blog giving medical information. This is a blog about my medical life and about my artwork.
Let me tell you this, this is one of the hardest things I’ve done physically. No, let me take that back. In the first few days of withdrawals it was as hard as hitting a level 10 pain. It stretches the mind farther than it was ever meant to go. It lands you in the hospital. It’s humiliating and it’s frightening, and it just won’t stop until the proper medical care is given to make it better.
The road to recovery is definitely not over. The recovery won’t have anything to do with the opiates, but Lupus. I’ll be in the hospital 4 to 5 days a week. I’ll travel there daily. I’ll come home in the evenings. I’ll take a medical cab there and back with a copay of $1 each way.
Looking up… sort of
Some hours in the day are not as bad as the others. I squirm but I’m able to relax sometimes. When it gets really really bad there are things for me to do to help myself. I’m able to read, listen to music, pet my cat, sew, etc. I’m also able to keep my food down better.
I guess I just want to say that not everything is always bad.
I am by blood and by heart a survivor. I wear that badge with honor.
My life is not in vain.