Photophobia

At Whackadoo's office today I was straining my dim eyes to see what the hell he was typing into my file while trying not to be noticed at the same time.  The only word I could see--get this-- was "photophobic."  Har Har! I guess that explains the extreme vitamin D deficiency, the skin whiter than milk (I make milk look gray), and the Transitions lenses in my glasses.  Hrmph.

I have the lorazepam thing ironed out for the next 60 days, at which time I'll get a small reduction in the doseage, etc., etc., ad infinitum.

He has quadrupled one of the other drugs I take, Gabapentin, in the meantime.  Quadrupled!!!  WTF?Gabapentin is the drug responsible for my clumsiness.  Great.  Just fucking great.  I can't wait to fall so often that I just choose to lay on the floor to roll and scoot around the damned house, channelling Eddie Murphy in *Trading Places.* He actually said, "Aww come on, just TRY it. You can always stop taking it."  I rolled my photophobic eyes at him.  Bastard.  I could almost see demon horns sprouting from his forehead.

I'm going to TRY these doseages - I've got nothing to lose.  I do have a wheelchair if I need it.  It took me a long time to get out of it the last time I got REALLY sick.  I'd like to stay out of it.  I'd rather shove the Gabapentin up Whackadoo's ass, if need be, than get back in the damned chair.  I promised to badger him on the phone if it wasn't working, and I reminded him the neurologist told me to be very careful with Gabapentin.

::drums fingers on desk and dreams of some kind of fluffy, pink, girly, froo-froo drink and a menthol cigarette:: (Mind you, I don't drink or smoke.  Shit.)

Hooked on Bennies

Almost anyone with an ongoing serious illness knows that contracting an infection of some sort, will make the symptoms of the existing condition much worse.  The same is true for an extreme allergy attack. What this means for me, in my weakened state, is that a common cold can very easily kill me without the proper intervention and treatment.  Over the past month I got a double whammy.

The massive eye infections I was having turned out to be a drug reaction. During the Queen's flotilla I started with giant hives.  MISERABLE!  The first call I made was to Dr. Whackadoo regarding the hives, since   he had dispensed the most recent prescriptions I have, PLUS I know I should not just stop taking all the heart meds I take.  The orders were to stop everything and take Benedryl, so I stopped taking Whackadoo's scripts. Yes, my allergic reactions stopped, but what ensued was massive drug withdrawal.  I wound up in the ER last Wednesday, since I was certain I was dying.  I was absolutely frantic.

I had never before had a problem just stopping opiates/opioids.  The problem, by process of elimination, turned out to be lorazepam, AKA "bennies"... apparently one should never just STOP taking this drug.  I am going to have to wean off over a period of months.  I have been taking it for more than a year. Many of my so called *physical symptoms* are actually side effects of lorazepam. To my horror, I read that withdrawal from this drug can last up to a year and some are never able to successfully stop taking it. I also read that withdrawal symptoms can be life threatening, especially if the individual is not basically healthy. ::sniff::  The hospital sent me home with a script for lorazepam in a higher dose.

I was originally prescribed this drug by the cardiologist who stopped saying "You're going to be OK," quite some time ago.  I have a death sentence hanging over my head--an agonizing one.  Wound pain has returned....oh probably threefold (on a scale of 1-10 I am at 27.)  Can't take a breath without wanting to scream.  I wonder how long I can last like this? This is the first day I have been fully lucid. I am not certain lucidity is the best option.

Purple Martin

Wow, I saw my first ever purple martin today on my patio. There are at least a pair of them flitting around my house, and they seem to like my roof for some reason.  For the past couple weeks, I'd see them dart out of the corner of my eye, but they wouldn't hold still long enough for me to identify. When the male landed on the patio, I finally realized what it was.  I've seen many a purple martin house, but never a purple martin.

I know this might not seem like such a big deal, but it kind of IS a big deal.  They are becoming scarce, apparently. Whole flocks will migrate to Brazil for the winter and not return. They're suspected of being poisoned, or somehow killed when they overwinter because fewer and fewer are returning each year.

Shaking in my Imaginary Boots

I'm afraid.  Constantly.  Like shaking in my boots afraid (I can't get my boots on since my legs are too swollen). I have mostly resigned myself to pain. Unless I can totally sedate myself the pain never goes away - not with the measly pills I get.  It has been a whole year and I'm not any better. The only thing that IS going to lessen is the amount and type of pills I get.

What I haven't resigned myself to is the lack of breath that goes along with the pain.  For instance, walk to the car = chest pain + gasping for breath + leg pain, and all this combined = huge fear.

I am going to try to scrape some poop out of the yard before it gets too hot. I have been told to not go outside when the temp is 80 or above. Apparently heat puts added stress on my tiny black grinch heart. So as soon as it gets light outside, I'll be out there with my shovel and rake. I pretend they are diamonds and I'm prospecting. (I have to pretend SOMETHING or this little yard would overflow in no time.

I try to plan to do one thing a day.  It's hell when that one thing involves crap.  Maybe someday I'll work up to two things.