We should just road-haul drug addicts. Don't worry; they won't feel a thing.
I cannot for the life of me understand anyone who enjoys taking narcotics, much less individuals that “get high” as a form of entertainment.
Mind you, this is coming from someone who is currently engulfed in the mental swamp of Dilaudid.
I scrape for every word as I write knowing full well that when I’m finished I will have to get someone else to look it over before posting. Why? To make sure my sentences are coherent. I’m nauseated, over-heated internally, unable to walk straight, my head hurts, and I itch even after taking Benadryl. My emotions are not only heightened but they are also on a hair-trigger. I couldn’t breathe well before the pain came and narcotics depress respiration even further. Normally, I’d be using my oxygen without a problem, but narcotics make me itch, especially my nose. It’s always a gamble on whether I’ll sleep like a log or be wide awake until the effects wear off. Usually, I’m kept awake, only to crash afterward. Of course, if the pain hasn’t resolved itself by then I might have to take another dose; then I’m impossibly sleepy and yet still unable to rest.
I often find myself wishing that I had partied and abused my body so then at the very least I’d have an answers. “Well, Amy, these are consequences for getting drunk all the time, hopping into everyone’s bed, filling your body with heroin, and smoking your lungs black.” But I don’t have that. I’ve never been fond of losing control. I’m not promiscuous, I don’t care for alcohol, smoke gives me a migraine, and I’ve never (not even once) taken an illegal drug nor abused the ones I’ve been prescribed.
And yet. Here I am, disabled, unable to do much for myself or others, and I’ve essentially missed my 20’s, and I don’t even have the memories of when I was wild because I never was.
So, to sum up:
Everyone out there thinking narcotics are fun? Go eat shit; you're the ones that make hospitalists suspicious of me when I come into the ER screaming.
Here ends my rant/whining.
On the brighter notes, my family/friends/doctors have discovered several new leads. We may now know why I have issues with my lungs, thyroid, and chemical depression. I am also extremely excited to be working with a close family friend (and all-around amazing healer) Paul who is coaching me in hydrotherapy. I’ve already regained a bit of strength and stamina and my current goal is to be able to go on a horseback ride around this time next year. Or, maybe when it’s not quite so hot - we’ll see. ^_~
All of that coupled with the news that doctors may have found the cause of Fibromyalgia? Things might be looking up.
See what I mean about mood-swings while on narcotics?
Mind you, this is coming from someone who is currently engulfed in the mental swamp of Dilaudid.
I scrape for every word as I write knowing full well that when I’m finished I will have to get someone else to look it over before posting. Why? To make sure my sentences are coherent. I’m nauseated, over-heated internally, unable to walk straight, my head hurts, and I itch even after taking Benadryl. My emotions are not only heightened but they are also on a hair-trigger. I couldn’t breathe well before the pain came and narcotics depress respiration even further. Normally, I’d be using my oxygen without a problem, but narcotics make me itch, especially my nose. It’s always a gamble on whether I’ll sleep like a log or be wide awake until the effects wear off. Usually, I’m kept awake, only to crash afterward. Of course, if the pain hasn’t resolved itself by then I might have to take another dose; then I’m impossibly sleepy and yet still unable to rest.
I often find myself wishing that I had partied and abused my body so then at the very least I’d have an answers. “Well, Amy, these are consequences for getting drunk all the time, hopping into everyone’s bed, filling your body with heroin, and smoking your lungs black.” But I don’t have that. I’ve never been fond of losing control. I’m not promiscuous, I don’t care for alcohol, smoke gives me a migraine, and I’ve never (not even once) taken an illegal drug nor abused the ones I’ve been prescribed.
And yet. Here I am, disabled, unable to do much for myself or others, and I’ve essentially missed my 20’s, and I don’t even have the memories of when I was wild because I never was.
So, to sum up:
Everyone out there thinking narcotics are fun? Go eat shit; you're the ones that make hospitalists suspicious of me when I come into the ER screaming.
Here ends my rant/whining.
On the brighter notes, my family/friends/doctors have discovered several new leads. We may now know why I have issues with my lungs, thyroid, and chemical depression. I am also extremely excited to be working with a close family friend (and all-around amazing healer) Paul who is coaching me in hydrotherapy. I’ve already regained a bit of strength and stamina and my current goal is to be able to go on a horseback ride around this time next year. Or, maybe when it’s not quite so hot - we’ll see. ^_~
All of that coupled with the news that doctors may have found the cause of Fibromyalgia? Things might be looking up.
See what I mean about mood-swings while on narcotics?