For some, the chemical dabbling occurs in their teen years. While there was some of this at random occurrences, my life now revolves somewhat around the chemical nation. I am always thinking - at least in the back of my mind - when I last took something, when I'll take something again, and you don't want to be around me if I am without. I am well known to my dispenser of the chemicals - they are surprised if it's just the one drug I pop in for, as in this evening, "Just one tonight?" he said with a bit of surprise in his voice. Ah, so she copes with drugs. Well, I suppose in a way, that statement is true. It certainly isn't a false statement. I am a slave to my insurance plan, at the mercy of the drug companies and on my knees hoping for a break-through in drug trials.
Upon the RSD diagnosis, you begin an attack plan - halt the damage that your body is inflicting on itself. Unfortunately, my disease is not one with a celebrity backer, and as such, there is not a lot of research being devoted strictly to it. As such, I am at the mercy of MS drugs, lupus drugs, anti-seizure drugs...all sorts of drugs pulled from a variety of diseases and conditions that have strong similarities to mine. It is a careful math problem. Add a drug, see if there is an adverse effect, see what other problems are left over and then add a drug for that. The pain you experience with RSD is very difficult to treat. As I stair-stepped my way up drugs to treat and address the pain - certain factors worked against me. The worst factor being - the cold, humidity and storm fronts of the mid-west. As the winter rolled on, the pain increased and bore down on me like a giant crushing a bug. It was painful to be awake, just rolling over in the middle of the night and resting my foot against the pillow-top of the mattress would cause me to wake up with a scream caught in my throat. The sensations that were at first there and simply annoying - the feeling of blood constantly dripping down my leg - morphed and grew into vicious feelings. I felt as though my bones were cracked and showing through my skin, a giant eel made of lava with razors on its back swan up and down my leg, swirling and whirling - angry and mad. I watched as my leg changed from a healthy normal flesh colored to a faint blueish tinge, to a cadaver looking leg. I no longer slept, no longer really ate. They attempted shooting pain medications directly into the nerves feeding my leg - that would give me relief for roughly 18-24 hours at first, but as the temperatures dropped, so did the amount of time I had relief from the shots. Finally, exhausted, worn out and ready to grab any life preserver handed me - I accepted a new option from my pain doctor. I was given an option - either try a pump implant in my spine - which carries major risks for woman that would like to one day have children- or try a simple little pill, Methadone. I opted for the Methodone. It was the scariest ride of my life. I not only frightened myself, but my husband, my mom, and even my boss who called to check on me (and subsequently told me to NOT answer my work cell). The methodone did nothing to take away the pain. What the methodone did do is take away my cares about the pain. I no longer gave a flying monkey about much of anything. I suddenly found myself having very much in common with Miss Anna Nicole Smith. I was high as a kite, dippy, trippy and absolutely out of my mind...still in pain - but I couldn't care less. It crippled me in a new way. After a very short amount of time, shaking the cobwebs from my brain, I slurred my way through a conversation with the nurse, dropped the phone to the floor and got myself off of methodone. I don't understand why anyone would ever want to experience that feeling. Would ever want to maintain that state of mind or being.
Currently I take a lovely concoction of 18 pills daily - not all at once - but through-out the course of the day. Sometimes there are additional medicines mixed in depending on if I am experiencing a flare up. I never dreamed that at twenty-seven years of age, after being forced into an early retirement from a profession and job that I adored, that I would also be at home in a retirement center -call me Sophia Petrillo. I could feel a weather front moving in, as well as the amount of pills I was taking that were constantly spilling out all over my purse no matter what pill case I tried. You know it's true love when your hubby tracks down a Coach pill case for you - zippered and secured! - and you couldn't be happier than if it were a diamond tennis bracelet.
I hope that one day I will be able to control this monster within, tame the horrible pain without the use of medication. While I am hopeful that this is possible, I am aware that stress is killer. While stress isn't good for anyone - I feel my nerves start to pop and misfire more rapidly as the stress builds. While I am in my current situation, it would be suicide to attempt no medications. A strict, well balanced "Four F's Diet", along with minimal stress and optimal climate conditions are critical to trying to go without medications - while staying a productive member of society. One day, one day.
In the meantime, I shall take my 18-26 pills - wash them down with my mineral water and close my eyes and laugh at all the times my mom had to chase me down to take my Flinstones vitamin. Oh how I thought that was such torture - if only I knew.
