I know I’m in for severe pain when I feel or hear a pop in my spine. When that happens, I nearly lose consciousness, except perhaps not as drastic as it sounds. Rather, all of my consciousness shifts to addressing and desensationalizing the extreme pain that had been released into my body. This happens when I move my spine at all, walk, or even at random. When this happens, I begin wheezing rather than breathing.
This happened moments before I started writing this essay.
I received a telemarketer call from the hotel system that must have my phone number deeply engrained into their phone systems, because regardless of whether I press “2” to be removed from their lists, or press “1” to talk to a representative where I tell them to remove me from their lists, at least today’s representative was honest: “absolutely not.” “OK, well, then, bye.” When I set the phone down to my left, I must have moved my spine a fraction of a millimeter too much, because I felt the overwhelming sensation of pain completely overwhelm me. I had to close my eyes, sit back in my chair, and wait for that wave of pain to stop oppressing me.
Every movement now is a gamble against my health.
After meeting with the sports medicine doctor yesterday, I have needed to rely on my canes – fortunately, just one, one for outdoors, the other for indoors – whereas before, I could almost get away without using one. In order for the doctor to do his evaluation, he checked various points throughout my body, and it got to the point where I could no longer sense whether pain was occurring in one part of my body or another. It was everywhere and it was severe enough to where I had to use all of my concentration to drive home.
I have a headache behind my right eye, too.
Fortunately, by now throughout this process, I’ve learned to cope with this headache pain in a limited capacity. It is affecting my ability to concentrate since my focus is drawn away from that pain to ummm well, I forget where I am in this sentence, so I’m just going to leave this in. There’s the eye pain. It feels like a throbbing pain behid my eye. I have my eys closed and will be leaving in any typoes so you get the full experience./ This is something that I had wanted to practice years ago since I figured this would be the easiest way for me to relay my experiences as they are happening.
So what is happening?
My right foot is twitching. The big toe. The pain sensation moved up and over to my left toes. My let foot twitched. My right foot felt like it became unstuck. Now I am move my feet forward by moving my hips and tailone.
I feel like I can open my eyes soon.
The pain behind my right eye is still severe enough to where I may want to open just my lef eye.
There’s another wheeze as my body registers and accepts the pain it’s in.
There’s a second bigger wheeze now to equalize things and I should be good for a little while. I will keep breathing in deeply to perhaps curb this at least someone- somwhat, although i doubt it now because i have am having trouble conventrationing on writing well. i am leaving this in because it will be a good document for what is happening. I would almost say that now is a good time to use one of my oxycodone but at the same time I should avoid that if only so that when I go see the doctors they will see what condition I am in.
More wheezing and more pain.
If there is one pa place where the pain is most severe, i as going to say the bone under my right eye but now it is everywhere and it is difficult for me to write. i can barely type with words. i suppose this pain experiment of waiting until next wednesday when i see the next doctor to be involved with my care might be a bit unnecessary because i doubt things will get better if i don’t. but maybe by masking the pain with a medicine that no doctor seems happey about then maybe someone will take pity on me – doubtful – and maybe they will decide that i am a human being of value and worth helping.
also doubtful but here we re.
m my body is so numb right now and when it is not in that preferrable state it is in significant pain. it might be insignificant to all of the doctors and assistancts ive talked to recently but for me this is
It’s a few minutes later.
I am still feeling pain but it mor ma- more managme- more manageable now. Mostly. I thought through that process about whether I should flush away the Oxycodone. It seems like it would be an important step toward getting these doctors to take me seriously. I am sure there are ways to doctor the evidence to make it appear like I didn’t flush away the medication. Even if I were to go flush it away now, who is to say I didn’t keep one or two around before? Even if I did, who is to say that would open up new possibilities for doctors to consider my pain legitimate and worth treating? They would probably consider me some fucking junkie loser not worth the time of day to treat.
Oh, how life is such a fair and wonderful thing.
I was able to lift myself up slightly to readjust my seating position, and edit out a typo I had written by mistake, so perhaps I am through the worst of this pain for now? Either way, this was an unintentional journey through how I was dealing with the pain in this particular moment.
Now to publish.
|Quotes:  The telemarketer, then me. The phone number had “888” in the number and I only answered because I still have companies hounding me down for various medical things, and I half-thought it was from the sports medicine doctor since they said they would call in the morning.|
|Sources: My personal experiences.|
|Inspirations: The wheezing is new. I think it is my body’s way of regulating pain.|
|Related: Sober Living essays and Tripping On [The American Healthcare System] chapters.|
|Written On: 2020 November 12 [11:51am to 12:16pm]|
|Last Edited: 2020 November 12 [First draft; final draft for the Internet.]|