Taking pain medication changes who you are. Being in pain and not taking pain medication changes who you are. It's a no-win situation.
Over the past couple years things have been miserable. Horrible. Terrible. Like that children's book
Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. Nothing goes right in his day and he says he's going to move to Australia.
Debbie and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Couple of Years.
I went to the doctor and he said I have rheumatoid arthritis and I'll have to take these pills. They'll make you sick because they're chemotherapy pills. Then I went back again and he said I have to take a shot. And I have to give it to myself. And then the pills aren't working so time to start giving yourself another shot every week.
I hurt my back and went to another doctor and he said take these pain pills. Then he told me to take more. And then more. He said it would get better. So I take the pills and try and go to work and get sick and then I have to substitute and then my back hurts more and then I get sicker. Then the doctor says let's give you six shots in your spine. Sorry, but the needle will be five inches long. And sorry, we don't sedate people here so it's going to hurt. And it did. And now I can't work at all.
Then my knee hurts and I have to use a cane. The doctor says it's time to get a new knee, but you're too young, but it looks too bad to wait any longer. Then I wake up from surgery and the doctor had to do a more invasive surgery because the damage was so bad. One of the worst knees he's ever seen. So then I have to learn how to climb up the stairs to get in my house with a walker. And then I have to take even more pain pills.
Then my tooth hurt and I went to the dentist and it took three days of work to get the root canal finished. Oops, they didn't get it all and I have to go to an oral surgeon to finish the job.
Dropped a can on my finger and broke it.
Can't work, in pain, still on pain pills, and decide to take some time off work.
Then I hurt my shoulder and had to have surgery. In a sling for a few months and can't drive and have to sleep in a recliner. Then hurt my other shoulder. Another surgery. In a sling, no driving, no bed again.
Actually the first chapter of the book should be called
The Destruction of Deb.
No confidence, no hope, no life left in me.
But chapter two of the book should be called
The Reconstruction of Deb.
I wish I was who I used to be in some ways, but not others. I miss my confidence. It was one of those things that defined me most. I lost it somewhere along the way, either because of the pain, the surgeries, or the pain medication.
I'm still looking to get it back. I was hoping it would appear yesterday. My husband is out of town and I was contemplating going to the casino for the night. But it's a three hour drive, a drive I've made many times by myself while visiting my daughter at a college not too far from the casino town. But a drive I'm not comfortable making by myself now. So I resigned myself to staying home and working on quilts and do some clipping of roses.
But today I am brave enough to go by myself, so I will. Like my climbing rose on the shed, my growth is slow but it is there.
