Pills
I hurt too much. I hurt too easily. I’m too brittle to bend any more. I know it’s the drugs. Prednisone did this to me last time, and it’s doing it to me again this time. If I hadn’t been in such physical pain, I would never have taken the pred again. Cessation of the physical pain is only marginally worth the mental pain.
My skin is tissue, tearing with every strong wind and harsh word. In life I muddle through the day somehow, and no one is the wiser. Nights are the worst. Virtual contact is the worst. Spoken words wither and dry once they leave someone’s lips. All trace is gone by the next day. Written words last longer. I only have to reread something, and the tissue tears anew. My lifeline is still away on the second leg of his vacation. I miss him.
I’ve stopped taking the oxycontin. I only have to make it through to Thursday and the neurosurgeon appointment. The physical pain is easily born at the moment. I know enough medicine to know to continue taking the prednisone as prescribed. It is unhealthy to simply stop taking pred. You have to be weaned off of it. My body can manage the pain, but the pred tears my head apart.
The paranoid in me wonders if they whisper “druggie” behind my back. Yet how can I deny it? I’ll be taking drugs every day for the rest of my life. Twice a day, for each day left to me. What’s a few pills more or less? Add a few pain pills to the immunosupprssants. Add some H+ blockers to the pile. And hey, let’s throw a calcium channel blocker on top for laughs. And can’t forget that blood thinner. God, what is it now? Nine pills in the morning, Seven or eight pills in the evening, depending on what day it is. My life is inextricably looped around a pill vial more than any drunk’s is wound about a bottle. I suppose it’s only a matter of time until someone other than myself notices.
And while I’m being paranoid, let’s talk depression. Actually, I don’t need to talk it … the prednisone is doing just fine talking for me. Ah crap, the prednisone. Change that count up there to ten pills in the morning; I forgot about the pred. I need a bigger pill box.
The Kitten wants to go to bed She’s been circling me like some crazed satellite looking for a chance for re-entry. Come on, Kitten. Let’s crash and burn together and go to bed. Maybe the world will look a little better tomorrow.
Why do I let them get to me?
**sending warm, comforting, chocolate covered thoughts your way**
Alli
Thank heavens for kittens – even grown-up ones.
a great big cyber hug to you.
ps. bullies always want to tear the great ones down, what they can’t understand is that they’re not even on your level. friends are holding your hand, despite the distance. don’t forget that.
No one with any sense would question the fact or think twice about the fact that you have to take alot of medicine. You are a medical miracle.
I am sorry you are in such pain again. I sure hope the doctor can relieve it soon.
*throws some really good vibes your way*
Hugs,
Bobbi
I’ve been on Prednisone before too, when I had a sinus infection that was painfully chewing up half my interior head space. I was truthfully so miserable at that time I don’t even remember the Pred making much of a difference, but a friend of mine, also on it, said it was like being forced to drink 10 cups of coffee every hour when all you wanted to do was sleep. It produced a contradictory kind of almost manic sadness.
But you are smart not to give up the Pred now. Let it finish doing it’s job, then unceremoniously drop-kick the dang empty bottle into the vilest dumpster you can find. You’ll be feeling much merrier on that day than you do now, I am pretty sure.
Everybody is depending on technology to a greater degree than they realize these days, even if they aren’t needing to take recently developed prescription drugs. How many of your drug-free city dwellers could last a day without the food provided by Modern Agribusinesses, delivered in modern vehicles? How many folks would be alive in that city today if most of them (or their parents) hadn’t been vaccinated?
How many of them, for that matter, are UNCIVILIZED enough to be whispering things like druggie behind your back? I bet the people who hang with you are thinking no such thing. They’re probably grateful that there are drugs that have kept their Pal Sal around for them, hopefully for many, many years to come. We all are!
Gotta have those minus tides to see anything. The desert made up for the seaside’s lack of cooperation.
Did it look better tomorrow? What about today? Pray tell.
Sending you strength.