All of my eggs are in one basket. I can admit that to myself. I have so much invested in this new course of action for disease management that I am setting myself up for bitter disappointment if it doesn't work as advertised.
I've been counting the seconds until the pharmacist who does the compounding at my local shop is on site. She's supposed to be there tomorrow, and I will be pacing around with my phone in hand waiting for the call that it's all ready for me. The last two months have been hell for me, and I need the hope that a completely new approach offers. When the therapeutic Botox wore off after Thanksgiving, and I went six weeks with the same migraine behind my right eye nonstop, day and night, no matter what, I started getting desperate. I stopped taking Tramadol, thinking that maybe what I had was a rebound headache. So no matter how much everything else hurt in addition to the blistering headache, I had to just tough it out and take nothing to ease it. The pain has been indescribable for weeks, and when someone who writes as much as I do every single day uses a word like "indescribable," you'd better believe that it is. Once I decided to ask my rheumatologist to put me on a low dose of the same drug they give heroin addicts (NOT because I have any addiction, but because it has an off-label use that is beneficial for me), I was both glad that I'd already weened myself off of painkillers, and entering a special level of hell while I waited for approval and receipt of the meds. I feel awful all of the time. My blood is filled with needles, I swear. My muscles no longer exist. My joints are tender. It was an easy call this time around for the rheumatologist finally to give me an official diagnosis of fibromyalgia in addition to lupus, when I sailed through the poke test to see how many tender spots I had. (I don't usually wince and say ow when she touches me. This time I couldn't stop.)
In my fantasies, this stuff will start to work instantaneously. Night number one, I take the compounded capsule at bedtime. I have a little insomnia, maybe some nightmares, as reported by other people who take this stuff. Then magically, overnight, while the opioid uptake receptors in my brain are blocked and my brain is frantically sending out the signal for my body to boost endorphin production, I will feel less pain upon rising. I will find it easier to pull myself out of bed. My feet won't be cramped into a curl, so that I hobble on my way to the bathroom. I won't have to prop one shoulder against the wall so I can lean over and wash my hands without my low back giving out. It won't hurt to carry a cup of coffee to my favorite chair. My brain will clear faster, and I'll be able to concentrate on reading. I'll even find the will to work. Soaking in the hot tub will soothe my muscles, rather than just leave me tired and needing a nap.
Or maybe it won't be like my fantasy. Maybe it will take months, ramping up the dose every few weeks, until I've gone from the 1 mg starter to the full 4.5 mg that is the max recommended. Maybe it won't alleviate pain at all. Until I've tried it, I refuse to believe it won't work. I choose to believe the truth will lie somewhere between those two alternatives. I choose to aspire for the fantasy best-case scenario. I can't wait to get started to find out.
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