I feel like my health is like a bag of ice that’s been left out to melt. It might hold out for a while, but despite its best efforts, it will melt unless something is done to help it. When I compare my health as I’m writing this, in late January, to months or years back, I wonder to myself – is my health also being left out to melt? Despite everything I do, I melt.
Well, it’s difficult to get online and not express myself honestly. I don’t know how this will turn out long-term on days like the day I’m writing this where I’ve felt like shit physically, and now mentally, for long enough to where it makes doing much of anything difficult. I do the best I can to express positivity elsewhere. I guess building “The Story,” as I learned with “Novel 01,” means progressing through “Novel 02” and beyond.
Spoilers?: Minor [long-term planning details]
WANNA CONSIDER HOW PIDGEONHOLING YOURSELF INTO A BOX OF POSITIVITY MIGHT PUSH YOU OUT OF THAT BOX? CLICK HERE TO KEEP ON READING!
This was going to be more of a physical therapy essay – talking about how I’ve made some progress during my five visits so far, but this progress has been minor, subjective, and not immediately measurable – but I’m exhausted. My physical therapist is good. I feel like after striking out with all of the bad luck I’ve experienced over this entire period, finally, there’s someone that’s willing and able to help – even if it hurts significantly.
When I had better health, I used to write about major events in my life as a way to come to terms with them. Now these events pummel me in waves and the most I can do is manage my pain through a combination of meandering through escapist media and taking pain management medicine that doesn’t even help much. Tomorrow I will go to my fourth physical therapy appointment after surgery and it’s gonna suck.
What happens when I feel terrible because my spine is actively trying to destroy me, but my mind is still capable of thinking about things? Well, I can’t do anything much, but I can do some of the menial background tasks that can help me tell “The Story” easier. For my livestreaming background image, I included the book cover of “Novel 01” and did other things to better advertise “Novel 02” when I’m able to write it.
Spoilers?: Minor [planning through pain]
WANNA CONSIDER HOW WHEN PEOPLE ANTAGONIZE MY SPINE OR HEALTH, I… GUESS I’M NOT PASSIVE…? CLICK HERE TO KEEP ON READING!
Although I’ve had a good success rate with doctors, the pain I woke up with today was one that couldn’t be quieted by the prescription painkillers I’ve been given as the stopgap as we figure out what’s wrong with my body. On days like today, I’m not productive. On days like today, I look to “The Story” for energy for perseverance, and wade out the pain until it calms itself down for a better tomorrow.
I wasn’t able to pass a bowel movement in almost a week that I began feeling sick today. Constipation is a side effect of taking Oxycodone, which I was prescribed to manage my continued pain symptoms related to my lower back and tailbone, but days of taking Colace weren’t helping. Well, I spent the better part of four hours and an entire roll of toilet paper, but I managed to pass five pounds of feces.
The premise that painkillers can be addictive is absurd to me. Although I have a new prescription for Oxycodone to manage my pain symptoms, I don’t feel compelled to take more of it than necessary – or even any of it, as my spine is currently hurting – like I might feel compelled to eat some sugary sweets. Oxycodone “addiction,” for me, would be like being addicted to the icepack applied after being thwacked by a bat.
Good news! I met with my new dual sports medicine and pain management doctor today. Although today’s meeting was similar to other meetings I’ve had with other doctors, there was one major difference between today’s meeting and others: actionable items. My general rule of thumb now is that if I meet with a doctor and that doctor doesn’t directly order any tests, that’s a red flag that they aren’t a good doctor. Let me explain:
The meeting with the spine doctor didn’t point to an answer. I was once again referred along to a sports medicine doctor – a new one this time, and I almost gleefully canceled the appointment with the other sports medicine doctor – and back to my PCP. It seems reasonable this time. Instead of being dumped off without any sense of patient care, this time, at least, going to both of these doctors could help me out.