Yesterday I woke with dread, knowing I would need to call the doctor's office for a refill on my oxycodone. I was down to the last 6 out of 40, and even though I stayed within the prescribed dose, I feared making the call, worried I would be judged for overusing and drug seeking (never mind that I have zero history of such behaviors). The doctor's office responded to my voicemail and in fact encouraged me to refill w/20 pills rather than the 20 I mentioned in my message. There was zero judgment, only concern for my well being and comfort.
Shortly after getting off the phone I began experiencing tremendous pain in my foot. It was a sharp, bitter pain that occasionally shot up my calf or my shin. It was approx 9:20 am and I took my 1st oxycodone of the day. An hour later I was clenching my jaw as the pain cntinued, feeling as if there were a dozen spiders with the sharpest of fangs biting around where I imagine the incision is located, nearly shooting me off the couch with pain...and I have a pretty high threshold for pain! I took a 2nd pill and assured myself that calling in the refill was in fact necessary. I did my best to manage the pain the rest of the day, though at one point after lunch and attempting to nap I lay on the couch with tears just pouring down my cheeks. No doubt that part of the struggle is just the damn sense of helplessness.
This morning I woke up to immediate pain and took a pill before even leaving bed. Determined to wean myself off the pain pills the next 2 days, I made a plan to limit myself to 1 every 4 hours and using ice and ibuprofen to manage. By 9 am I was feeling nauseated and just downright moody. I hade made a mess attempting to carry a travel mug of coffee back to the couch in a bag...the cup tipped over en route and the lid slid open, coffee spilling into the bag, on my book and thru the hole in the bag to the floor. I reminded myself I seem to be having a bad day and not to overreact. By 10 am my foot was screaming bloody murder, and for whatever reason I'm just not at my best. I was trying to straighten up the clutter on the coffee table and spilled the entire mug of coffee everywhere...thankfully I had a washcloth handy and cleaned it up, reminding myself again not to overreact. I was acutely aware of the dark cloud surrounding my brain and determined to not let it get the best of me. I decided to find something to eat to settle my belly and take another pill.
After settling down I grabbed the XBox remote so I could watch some movies on my Netflix Instant. The WiFi wasn't working, something we have been fighting with the past few days. I again reminded myself to not overreact, knowing damn well I have been precariously perched on the edge all morning. I decided I would play Miss Fix-it and deal with the modem and the router, knowing full well they just need to be rebooted. I'm not entirely sure what happened next, all I know is I went from decisive and solution focused to a sobbing pile of goo in the blink of an eye. Assuming I just needed to let it out I just let it go for a few minutes til I feared I would hyperventilate and slowly reined it in. I dragged myself tp the office to reboot the modem and router, and while waiting pondered why I feel suxh a mess TODAY. Yes, surely the immense pain in my foot is not helping one bit, but I am an independent, intelligent woman, with a MA in Psych and tremendous skills in stress management. I think that today, 6 days after surgery, I am simply exhausted, both mentally and physically, with the level of effort it takes to do the simplest things, and that combined with the unbearable pain, the boredom and the desire to just have my routine back....well shit, I am just human.
I refuse to let this engulf me, it would be far too easy to spiral down into some depression, but extraordinarily difficult to pull out of, so I am trying, to find something in between. I chose to put this all in the blog, because while it is possible no one will ever see it, I know damn good and well the value of journaling.
I definitely need another pain pill. The sharp, evil pains in my foot do NOT need to be tolerated and will do no one any good, least of all me. It's not as if I need the pain to remind me to stay off of it, I want too badly for this surgery to be worthwhile, so I am being diligent about following doctor's orders. I may also need to just have a screaming, crying tantrum....followed by a nice nap. Hey, there is a reason that works for kids! Also, it may help to admit I am not superhuman. I thought I was getting off easy when days 3 and 4 passed and I did not feel the excruciating pain everyone else described. So, it was delayed, and maybe because my dr is awesome, but it has arrived now, and with a god damn vengeance. So, my schedule may not go as planned, I may need to stay doped up for a few more days before weaning, so I need to figure out a way to not judge myself for that and not get overly frustrated for that which is beyond my control. That's right, I said it....beyond my control.
Alright Erin, buck up, let out that primal scream, feel sorry for yourself for a damn minute and stop trying to be the perfect patient! Life sometimes wants to be a bitch, you can't ALWAYS be the bigger one....sometimes you have go home crying...but tomorrow is another day and maybe THEN you'll have the strength to be Bitch on Top!
Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go cry!
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