I’m constantly in a struggle for living life as purists say and living my own life.
I’ve been struggling for years and years with doctors who claim I should have no back pain. I can point to the exact spot where my back seems to twist my nerves, right up to my brain. I’ve been addicted to pain killers several times, swearing I’d never go back on them, and then craving them when I suffer setbacks.
My problem is that stress, my back pain, and hot flashes are all one package in my body. When one goes up, the others go up. Hot flashes prevent me from being able to rest my body, so no naps, and sharp, rude awakenings at night keeping me from getting sleep. My back pain drives my brain into a dull, twisting feeling of not being able to hold myself up — needing to lie down, thus triggering hot flashes… then the cycle begins again.
Anyway, all this complaining is leading to yesterdays doctor’s appointment. After explaining to him the stress that I’ve been under and how undermedicated I’ve been over the past 3 months, he worked with me to get a new drug regimen.
. My citalopram, which I have no complains about, remains the same at 20 mg/day
. I’m to take Prilosec once a day to keep down my chronic gas pains (they happen to be on the front side of where my back pain is — hmm)
. Get rid of ambien, of which I’m taking 1 1/2 12.5-mg tablets right now.
. Replace ambien with ativan (lorazepam), which I can take throughout the day and then use it to help me sleep at night.
Like a drug addict, I raced to the drug store for my ativan so I could pop one, my stress has been so freakin’ high and without relief for so long, I’ve been desperate.
I took my precious ativan package to the car, ripped it open, split one and took it, and then proceeded to spill the entire bottle all over my car. I couldn’t believe I’d done that. 60 nearly-microscopic tablets buried among dog hair, dirt, bike shoes, car seat railings, candy wrappers, and a ton of other miscellaneous things. I patiently put the empty container in the coffee cup holder and picked up every single pill I could find, even digging my hands through what might have included parts of dead mice. I crawled in from the other side to see if there were any at the far end.
I had to laugh at myself… crawling desperately around searching for every single lost pill. What a druggie.
On the other hand, one time several years ago I was heartbroken when I accidentally dropped a bottle of ativan into the bathroom sink. The water in the sink instantly dissolved half of them. The other half fell down the drain. I scraped up what I could of the left over powder and put it into the bottle.
Those tiny ativan tablets have a mind of their own.
As always, I talked God with my doctor. He’s a very religious Christian and has Bibles and Christian literature all over his office. I keep telling him what a turn-off the Bible is, and how I’d love to get my hands on something more nurturing to read. Today he recommended a book called “The Message”. I’m not sure how I’ll do with a book telling me all about how Jesus died for my sins (been there done that so…. don’t really need to hear it for the billionth time.), so I’m so-so on ordering it. I might order the Kindle version, which is just $7.50.