LIVING WITH CHRONIC PAIN

For the past 20+ years I've lived with chronic pain. Now, I'm faced with having a few new additional pains added to all my other "normal" ones. Several months ago I injured my left shoulder doing yardwork. When the injury happened I knew immediately that I had done something to it, but failed to get it examined until November which was several months after the injury. My rheumatalogist order X-rays of both shoulders and an MRI of my right shoulder. I didn't realize until I went to get the MRI done that the order for the MRI was for the wrong shoulder. The facility wouldn't call my doctor and get a verbal change to the order, so I just went ahead and had an MRI done on my right shoulder.

Shortly after that I got an appointment with my primary care doctor because getting back into see my rheumatologist on short notice isn't an easy feat to accomplish. My primary care ordered a MRI for my left shoulder which revealed a complete tear of my rotator cuff, bone spurs and something wrong with my biceps. After jumping through all the necessary red tape to get cleared for surgery, my surgery was finally scheduled for February 20th. The results of the MRI on my right shoulder revealed tears in my right shoulderas as well.

Yesterday, my surgeon's office called to tell me that my surgery has to be postoned until April 3rd. This delay is due to the biologic (Skyrizi) I take for Psoriatic Arthritis. According to my rheumatologist surgery can safely be done 13 weeks after my last shot. Needless, to say I'm bummed out that the surgery had to be postponed. I was actually looking forward to putting it in my rear view mirror so I could address the other shoulder.

Chronic pain can be one of the most difficult things to accept and learn to live with daily. It can be a constant reminder of our physical limitations, making it hard to stay motivated and keep up with our daily lives and relationships. Pain can also affect our mental and emotional health, creating a downward spiral of depression and exhaustion. Fortunately, there are strategies we can use to help us accept our physical limitations and learn to live with pain. 

It's important to be aware of the signals your body is giving you and listen to them. I failed to do this initially when I first injured my shoulder. I tried to power through it hoping whatever was wrong would eventually heal and go away. It didn't! If you're feeling pain, don't try to push through it. Doing so can lead to further physical damage and more chronic pain. Instead, take a break and find out what is causing the pain. Pay attention to feelings of fatigue or low energy, as these can signal an underlying health condition or depression. Also, monitor your mood and be mindful of your reactions to stress or changes in your environment.

When listening to your body, pay attention to the little things that bring you happiness. Take time to relax, try something new, or just spend time with loved ones. These activities can bring joy into your life and give you energy. Achieving balance between your physical and emotional needs can help you better understand and accept your physical limitations. Connecting with yourself and your emotions will allow you to assess how different activities affect your energy levels and happiness. This may help you become more mindful of any potential triggers for depression or other mental health issues.

Additionally, staying active even if only for short periods of time will boost your energy levels and help keep depression at bay. Taking care of yourself in small ways each day such as going for a walk or reading a book can also contribute to overall happiness. Finally, seeking support from friends, family members, or healthcare professionals can make all the difference when trying to cope with physical limitations. Surrounding yourself with positive people who are understanding of your situation can help you stay motivated and supported during difficult times. 

30 TRUTHS IN 30 DAYS - DAY TWELVE

Truth #12: Many times people who struggle with chronic pain become adept in covering it up. You may never see the magnitude of actual pain the person lives with daily and if you did it would shake you to your core. Chronic pain is exhausting and it touches every aspect of a person's life. Chronic pain sufferers are chronically sleep deprived. Sleep would be a welcome relief, but unless heavily medicated a chronic pain sufferer will also suffer from insomnia. Many chronic pain sufferers have addiction issues and ride that roller coaster in search of relief. Chronic pain will drain a person both mentally and physically changing a person over time which can lead to other health problems. Often times this person becomes irritable and dislikes being around people, commotion and noise. Chronic pain damages a person's concentration and makes doing even simple tasks a challenge at times. Most chronic pain sufferers try to ignore the pain and live a normal life, but doing that is next to impossible. Chronic pain damages a person's self-esteem and self-worth because the person cannot do the things they have done in the past. A chronic pain sufferer sees themselves as damaged goods thus less than everyone else around them. They are forced to accept their limitations and this causes great internal strife. Often times they feel like everyone is disppointed or mad at them for not being 100% anymore because they feel that way about themselves. Chronic pain breeds isolation and severe depression and sometimes chronic pain sufferers take their own lives when the mental and physical pain becomes unbearable. 

I WASN'T EXPECTING A MIRACLE

Like many people who get trapped into the downward spiral that narcotics use brings, I endured years and years of the effects of the feeling that no dose was ever quite enough. That feeling is what makes narcotics use so dangerous and so deadly. That need and want to always use just a little more to get just a little more relief from pain can be a real killer. It can and will suck the life right out of you. I've had many friends succumb to that need. I dabbled with narcotics in my youth, but my serious narcotic use started from prescribed drugs as an adult after having my first spinal surgery. That was at a time before there was a crackdown on prescribing narcotics. Initially, I started out with mild painkillers and worked my way into more heavy duty ones over time as my dependence on them grew as my condition worsened. Eventually, my primary care doctor referred me to a pain management specialist when she felt she could no longer treat me. At that point I was taking 2 time released Oxycontin daily and I was being prescribed 4 Percocet10's daily for any breakthrough pain. Believe it or not, I was not zonked! In fact, most people didn't even know I was taking painkillers. Let's just say I had a pretty high tolerance.

I was never able to get steroid injections in my back and neck because I'm highly sensitive to steroids. The one time I did have a steroid injection in my knee, my blood sugar spiked to over 600 and even with insulin injections (I'm diabetic) it wouldn't go down for over a week. Anyone who has battled high blood sugar knows that all over sick feeling one has with high blood sugar. Twice in my life I've stopped using narcotics cold turkey and twice in my life it was not a fun experience. I don't plan to do it a third time.

Written April 9, 2009

Truth? As far out on the edge as I’ve teetered, something has always kept me from stepping into the abyss. Truth? My pain and I have a very intimate relationship. It’s very complicated and the only lasting relationship I’ve ever had. It’s definitely a love-hate relationship full of angst and exploration leading me into places where I’m able to forget my pain temporarily. During those times, life has been wonderful and filled with adventures, but nonetheless those times were temporary.

Is there anyone out there who has ever gotten to the point of saying “I’m done”? Well, what do you do when you’re done? What do you do when you look back at the life you’ve lived and see that it’s taken you to a place of true complacency and indifference? Wow! That’s a place I never thought I’d be! Anger maybe. Rage was always a possibility. Bitterness was always aching to be number one on the hit parade, but what did I get? Complacency and indifference salted with a dash of disillusionment.

Without all the gory details, I recently made a decision that possibly could be the queen of all my self-destructive acts. I know some might think anyone making the decision to stop an addiction… any addiction is a wise decision. Perhaps it is! What would one say to someone who is addicted to prescribed narcotics and muscle relaxers and who has decided to stop taking those drugs against medical advice? Hmmmmmmm! Go for it? Good luck? You’re a damn fool? There’s no escaping the truth. When you’re done, you’re done.

Truth? Drugs have veiled many of my written words over the past several years. Okay, for some that may come as no big surprise, but for me it does. What surprises me is that after living through the horrors of drug abuse at a younger age, I allowed myself to take the easy way out as an adult and become something I hated. I would like nothing more than to be able to blame the doctors who prescribed the drugs to me, but I can’t do that. I won’t do that! They had a job to do and did it. What transpired was a perfectly legal act, although some might question the ethics or morals involved.

Was I some drug-seeking individual that goes from doctor to doctor hoping to score some decent drugs? Truth? No! My medical problems set me on the path of having the best drugs health insurance could legally buy. Unfortunately, the nature of the beast includes developing a tolerance to prescribed narcotics. What may work initially only becomes a way to take the edge off and feel somewhat normal…. whatever normal is I’ve forgotten.

After careful consideration, I decided to go cold turkey. Is that the politically correct term these days or is it only showing my age? I decided to do this withdrawal in stages thinking that it would be easier on me due to other health issues. Instead of weaning myself off my meds, I abruptly stopped taking my Oxycontin first and now, I’m in the throes of a nasty divorce from Percocet 10’s. The muscle relaxers were flushed sometime in the midst of all this madness. Has my last month been fun? Hell no, but what I do know is that withdrawal can be accomplished. All it takes is determination and insanity will take you the rest of the way.

Written 6/18/18

Plunder Woman

While I've been MIA (missing in action) lately, I've been working towards cleansing my system of all the gnarly narcotics that have held me prisoner [AGAIN] for the past 15 years. Since 2003, I've taken the whole spectrum of painkillers and have to admit nothing works very well these days. Why continue taking something that doesn't give me any relief? Why continue taking something that harms my already compromised liver? Because I've chosen to make what I think is an informed decision, I'm in the process of weaning myself off morphine because cold turkey is a real bitch. Trust me, I've been down that road a time or two and I definitely don't want to visit that rocky path ever again.

Over the last 15 years I've taken every NSAID known to man, plus Tramadol, Lortab, Percocet, Oxycontin, Methadone, Fentanyl and Morphine. You name it and I've taken it. I've used TENS units and even had 2 internal neurostimulators implants that are wired directly into my spine. I've had two separate anterior discectomies with fusions to fuse 4 of my 7 cervical discs. I have to admit not being able to look up or turn my head has been a little challenging at times. And as for the surgeries, they've done little to alleviate my pain. My last neurosurgeon told me that there was nothing else that he could do to help me. He basically told me that I'd have to grin and bear it.

I've also tried exercise, heated pool therapy, regular physical therapy, massages, chiropractic adjustments, heat and ice with no substantial or long term relief from anything I tried. The only things I haven't tried at this point are steroid injections that are injected directly into the site that's causing the pain and acupuncture. As ordered by my endocrinologist, I can't ever do the steroid injections because steroids make my blood sugar skyrocket. And acupuncture?  To be honest, the thought of being a human pin cushion (even though they say no pain is involved) doesn’t exactly excite me, so I think this particular predicament is called being S.O.L. (shit out of luck)

Physically, I've gone from being Wonder Woman to being a lackluster cave-dwelling crone. Mentally, I've learned to suffer in silence. Isolation is a common tool used by many people with serious medical issues and by people who have simply given up and don't want to play the "happy" game any longer. It's easier to be isolated than it is to be around people. That overwhelming urge to put on a happy face has worn me out. It’s difficult to maintain that “everything is just peachy” act for very long and the older I get, the more that desire wanes. That's why I became a hermit. No, that's not entirely true. The combination of severe chronic pain and my lifelong inability to select a significant other who isn't a complete twisted freak-a-zoid asshole are the two major reasons for becoming a troglodyte. The wealthy call it being an eccentric recluse and the poor call it life after the fast lane. I call it how Mildred maintains some semblance of sanity. 

Recently I decided to give medical marijuana a whirl. Both my primary care doctor and my pain management doctor gave me their blessing regarding my decision. Florida legalized marijuana for medicinal use in the 2016, but have always steered clear until now due to all the hoop jumping that's involved.  Once I finally made the decision, I carefully followed all the necessary steps dotting all i's and crossing all t's. Unfortunately, I know what a clusterfuck anything pertaining to the government can be. Anything they handle on a local, state or federal level involves too much red tape that only slows the process of forward movement and expands the room for errors to be made every step of the way.

First, I made an appointment to see Dr. Feelgood. Next, I had my medical records from my pain management doctor and my primary care doctor faxed to Dr. Feelgood. This was done to substantiate a medical diagnosis that is on the list of qualifying diseases and conditions. Previous medical records also help Dr. Feelgood to write a personalized prescription/care plan. Next, I kept my appointment (BTW, Dr. Feelgood really knew her stuff.) Once a person sees the doc and her recommendation is submitted along with your Patient ID number, the mandatory application for a Medical Marijuana card from the state with a $75 required fee (everyone has to get their piece of the pot pie) can be submitted online or by snail mail. About 2 weeks later, I received an email me with my card number. Until I receive my actual card, the email with the card number enables me to make purchases.  They say it takes about 4 to 6 weeks to receive the actual card. That's the speed of light for any government agency! I'll believe 4 to 6 weeks once I have my card in my hand is really 4 to 6 weeks.

There's two dispensaries where I live and both do home deliveries. I'll most likely use that service in the future, but I wanted to check out the dispensary in person for my first purchase. I like to see how things work and if they run smoothly. It gives me an overall picture of whether or not I'm dealing with a bunch of imbeciles. It helps keep my expectations in the realm of reality. I have to admit, I was pleasantly surprised by the whole operation at Surterra Wellness right down to the ATM standing all shiny and new inside the dispensary. This feature made a lot of sense since the marijuana business is all cash and carry due to the current Federal laws and banking restrictions.They would have really impressed me if they had a blood plasma center on site so people could sell some blood to buy their weed. That's what I would have called one stop shopping!

The dispensary was a strange trip...nothing like copping a little weed back in the day from the friendly neighborhood pot dealer! Upon checking in for my first one stop shopping experience, I found out that my approved card number didn't show up in the Florida Stoners-R-Us database when the dispensary tried to access it. So I sat there and called the 800 number into the state registry. Ring! Ring! Ring! I first accessed their automated menu hoping I pushed all the right selections to talk to an actual human being. Of course, there were many callers ahead of me, but the automated recording assured me that the first available representative would help me and thanked me for waiting patiently. I wonder who I'd have to register a complaint with regarding the "on hold" music that played in my ear while I waited. I beg your pardon, but elevator music is not acceptable to listen to for more than 5 seconds and what stoner do you know who listens to that crap? Pink Floyd would have been easier on the ears!

Fast forward about 45 minutes later and the state informed me that I indeed had been approved and the number emailed to me was correct. Duh! I knew the number was correct. The state knew the number was correct. I wanted to know why the dispensary couldn't access my correct account number. That issue was never answered. "I don't know" didn't seem like an acceptable answer, but I wasn't going to push the issue because I didn't want my correct account number to permanently float around lost in cyberspace. What I did was accept some things are meant to remain a mystery. So now, I'm back at square one. The dispensary needed to be able to access my account via my top secret correct account number. If the dispensary couldn't access my account with the prescription from my pot doc, then I wouldn't be able to make a purchase. Period! Why would I ever expect anything to ever go smoothly from start to finish and not be riddled with all sorts of Murphy's laws? I don't know how, but somehow magically, my card number appeared in the database after my phone call to Florida's Stoners-R-Us registry. Go figure! It must have been a miracle!

Now fast forward to the present day: Pensacola now has 6 dispensaries in anticipation of Florida legalizing cannabis in the near future. I think they're trying to get it on the ballot in 2020. Hip! Hip! Hooray! Like the title of this blog post indicates, I wasn't expecting a miracle, but smoking marijuana has helped with my pain and it's kept me off narcotics. That's the important thing. You see, unlike with narcotics I'm not going to die from using cannabis.  It is, however an ongoing process of educating myself regarding the various strains and what works best for me. For instance: Sativa strains are for daytime use and Indica strains are for nighttime use. Hybrids are potent blends for anytime use :). I won't bore all you non-users with a bunch of tips from Mildred, but please know Mildred is much better than she has been in a long, long time! And Martha has been like a ray of sunshine and a real blast from my past! Together we're just two radical old stoners looking for the ultimate munchies :)

*Repost from November 4, 2019

Update: (December 8, 2022) I'm still not taking any narcotics. Hooray for me! I still use medical marijuana for depression, anxiety, insomnia and pain. I have a few favorites strains I use specifically for pain. Dutch Treat, Grandaddy Purple, 9lb Hammer and Duct Tape have been excellent in helping alleviate my pain symptoms. Pensacola now has 11 dispensaries. The cannabis business seems to be booming!

Surgery on the 9th

Instead of remaining MIA, I felt a short explanation was appropriate.  This surgery is something I've been putting off for quite awhile and I'll post more details about it after I have it done on the 9th.  Right now, I've been trying to finish up all the hurricane clean-up, etc. and to prepare myself mentally for having more surgery.  

The Wetter The Better

There's a few rules in life and one of them is to never make me the bartender...NEVER!  I don't follow recipes very well. I'm a do my own thing type of person after I get the basics down. 

You see we had a rather small family gathering for my daughter's birthday and it involved strawberry daiquiris and social distancing and cupcakes that my son-in-law couldn't believe I made because they looked like they had been professionally made. Oh yeah, I'm that good when I want to be! The birthday party was great, but my "normal" evening consists of sitting in my backyard, listening to music and shooting the shit with Martha while we social distance across the chain link fence lit by tiki torches. 

After the birthday party, I made a "special" blender full of daiquiris just for Martha and me and I don't drink or I should say I may drink something maybe once a year so this was designated as "my once a year."  After four strong drinks and some tsunami strength Surfing in a Hurricane weed for medicinal purposes only (I see you rolling your eyes as you read this) I was one with the world and ready to boogaloo down Broadway in my flamingo mask, but Pensacola doesn't have a Broadway unfortunately or maybe it was a fortunate thing for the inhabitants of Northwest Florida. I've never gotten the feeling that the South has ever been quite ready for this Yankee all the years I've lived here. I've always felt like a fish out of water or a flamingo amongst a flock of geese.

Martha almost got the hose after me last night because I threatened to jump...no, not off a bridge or a building. I jumped up and down one night not long ago when I was pretty baked and I felt like dancing and it was the WRONG thing to do. Someone with as many disc/spinal problems as I have shouldn't jump...EVER! I found that out after the second or third jump. I was in so much pain I whimpered that I needed to sit down NOW and that jumping was the wrong thing to do. Enlightenment always comes quickly with pain! Martha's husband told her to get the hose if I ever tried to jump again, so she run and got the hose last night. She was ready to blast me with it. I kept telling her I was going to do it, but I was just yanking her chain. Imagine that! Me yanking someone's chain? You see, if I were her I would have soaked me just on general principles and laughed at me while I screamed and hollered as the cold water baptized me. The wetter the better I say and Martha could have put this fish back in the water where I belong!

Quarantined Day #7

I think my body may just make it through all this yardwork I'm doing. EVERYTHING pertaining to my house has been sorely neglected for so long that it makes me feel so ashamed and so sad, but everyone I say that to just looks at me like I'm crazy or thinks I'm just making an excuse for being lazy. Well, I'm neither, I care about where I live, but I simply haven't been physically able to do the work and I can't afford to hire it to be done by some else. It's a hell of a situation to be in and one I never dreamed I'd be experiencing. I also never dreamed I'd get to the point I'm at now, but I've really pushed myself and here I am and now, I have my hands full. Sometimes I feel so overwhelmed when I look around me and see all the work I have to do. I have to keep reminding myself ONE DAY AT A TIME, MILDRED! One day at a time...and then when it gets too hot (I live in Florida) move inside and start some projects in there because there's as many inside as there's outside! Lucky me! I think Cecil, the partridge and I need to go to Lowe's and start hanging out in the contractor's section and start picking up contractors! To hell with bars! I'm to old for bars and besides my tail feathers don't shake like they shook 30 years ago. But I have a flashy hammer and a cool partridge...lol

So, each day before I go outside to do hard physical work which includes cutting down trees and cutting them up, I put on my back brace because without it I wouldn't be able to do anything but sit there and look at everything that needs to be done.  A few years ago, after I fell down my stairs and fractured a vertebrae which just added to all the other things that's wrong with my back I struggled to be able to stand and walk.  In fact, I couldn't stand for more than a minute or two before I needed to sit down. It really sucked and frustrated the hell out of me and although everyone kept telling to accept my limitations, I just couldn't do that. I wouldn't that. Over time, gradually, I pushed myself to the point of being able to do things again. It took me a few years to get there, but I was determined. I didn't announce to anyone that was my goal because I knew I most likely would have been vetoed on my decision to fight through my pain, ditch pain management and all the narcotics after years and years of using them and then gradually try to get my life back. Once I accomplished that, I started working towards getting my diabetes under control which had never been under control.

Since last May I've lost about 70 pounds and my A1C is where it's supposed to be for the first time since I was diagnosed with diabetes in 2002.  The only thing that concerns me now is that the last time I went to my endocrinologist, he switched my injectable meds to something new. You see, since I had started losing weight, I hadn't had to inject any fast-acting insulin and that's something I never dreamed I would ever stop doing. I injected Tresiba (long-acting insulin) at bedtime and Victoza in the morning after checking my fasting blood sugar. So my doctor decided to start me on Soliqua which supposedly combines the two in one injection.  I thought that was great  because it was going to only be one shot a day, but like any new medication your body takes time to adjust to it and my blood sugar has crept up somewhat. It's not a giant spike, but I worked hard to get it down and well...I know the story. The drug rep walks into the doctor's office with a new drug and wants the  doctor to push it and so the doctor starts prescribing to his patients. I happened to be one of those patients. I think when I go to my primary care doctor in a few weeks, I'm going to discuss the matter and try to get back on what I was on. I don't mind two shots a day and I wasn't asked if I wanted to switch, the other doctor just switched me over to the new drug. I would go back to the endocrinologist, BUT he's harder than hell to get in to see. It's like asking for an appointment with God. I guess things could be worse...

Now, as for my results from my coronavirus testing, there still are none, but Martha told me yesterday that I was supposed to have set up some kind of account and it was explained on the paperwork they gave me. I said, "What paperwork????" Since she and I went to different testing sites I guess I went to the shit show site where they handed me a mask and stuck a swab up my nose and tickled my grey matter, but I don't remember getting any paperwork. It's all included in Murphy's Laws and those are the Laws I live by every day of my life. So Martha is going to take a picture of the paperwork and text it to me so I can see what she received so MAYBE I can go from there and find something out soon.

THE MEDICAL MARIJUANA METAMORPHOSIS

Here are some random observations I have made in the past few weeks:

My hand-written notes on a piece of paper towel
because that was the first thing I could grab

1. The combination of taking narcotics long-term and using Victoza (one of the injectable diabetic meds I use) on top of having gastroparesis  (my digestive tract hates me) has rendered me a involuntary prisoner with a wicked case of constipation. You see, alone each of those three components causes digestive problems. Together they scream, WTF! The meds slow my digestive tract down to a crawl and the gastroparesis is just what it sounds like...a paralyzed gastric tract. I had to wave a white flag and surrender!  Now, that I've stopped taking narcotics, my digestive system is much happier and so am I.
2. My new "medicine" makes me friendlier and more talkative. Before, the pain I felt left me without any desire to interact with people and now I'm starting to get my "Mildred" vibe back. Her inner child has arisen from a very long nap (like Rip Van Winkle except Mildred is not a short fat male.)
3. My tastes in what I watch on television has been altered greatly. I've been watching more documentaries and feel a need to soak up knowledge again. My mind is like a very dry sponge.
4. I've gone for such a long time not listening to music and now music soothes my soul. And it sounds terrific! It's horrible how pain has sucked just about all the life from me. It happened so gradually that I didn't even notice how far away from myself I had gotten.
5. My taste in humor is changing. Where I used to watch some generic humor (a sitcom with a comic for the lead role) for mindless entertainment, now I tend to want to be more focused on which comic I watch. If I think someone is funny then I want to see their stand up routine. That's the only way I can assess if they really are funny.
6. Food...OMG! ALL food tastes so incredible. I'd forgotten what being ravenous was like. Now, I need to find something low calorie to munch on. Any suggestions? I could always save money and go in the back yard and graze like a cow. That'd be cool as long as no one tried to milk me.
7. I now have a need to have a notebook to jot down ideas as I think of them, because these days it's gone as soon as I blink my eyes if I don't write it down.
8. My whole thought process feel like it's undergoing a transformation. I went in as a caterpillar and came out a butterfly. This girl is on fire!

   

   Mildred's metamorphosis

9. I'm so easily distracted because I have so many ideas racing to get out at the same time. Being distracted almost makes me dizzy at times. I start saying something and when a natural pause is acceptable, I forget what I was talking about and then go right onto a new topic. It's a seamless transition, but it frustrates me that I get all jumbled up at times.
10. The CBD part of my new "medicine" helps ease my pain/inflammation and the THC gives me a righteous buzz. While my body physically starts to relax, my mind has been flipped on. I've only been "dosing" myself for a few weeks, but I'm already starting to feel less all over pain. What pain I have now has become more condensed and concentrated and usually doesn't radiate outward all over my body like it has in the past. 

WORD OF THE DAY:

*Replenish

*to make something full again, or to bring it back to its previous level by replacing what has been used

HALLELUJAH! I've been replenished...

WHY MILDRED WENT TO POT

Plunder Woman

While I've been MIA (missing in action) lately, I've been working towards cleansing my system of all the gnarly narcotics that have held me prisoner for the past 15 years. Since 2003, I've taken the whole spectrum of painkillers and have to admit nothing works very well these days. Why continue taking something that doesn't give me any relief? Why continue taking something that harms my already compromised liver? Because I've chosen to make what I think is an informed decision, I'm in the process of weaning myself off morphine because cold turkey is a real bitch. Trust me, I've been down that road a time or two and I definitely don't want to visit that rocky path ever again.

Over the last 15 years I've taken every NSAID known to man, plus Tramadol, Lortab, Percocet, Oxycontin, Methadone, Fentanyl and Morphine. You name it and I've taken it. I've used TENS units and even had 2 internal neurostimulators implants that are wired directly into my spine. I've had two separate anterior discectomies with fusions to fuse 4 of my 7 cervical discs. I have to admit not being able to look up or turn my head has been a little challenging at times. And as for the surgeries, they've done little to alleviate my pain. My last neurosurgeon told me that there was nothing else that he could do to help me. He basically told me that I'd have to grin and bear it.

I've also tried exercise, heated pool therapy, regular physical therapy, massages, chiropractic adjustments, heat and ice with no substantial or long term relief from anything I tried. The only things I haven't tried at this point are steroid injections that are injected directly into the site that's causing the pain and acupuncture. As ordered by my endocrinologist, I can't ever do the steroid injections because steroids make my blood sugar skyrocket. And acupuncture?  To be honest, the thought of being a human pin cushion (even though they say no pain is involved) doesn’t exactly excite me, so I think this particular predicament is called being S.O.L. (shit out of luck)

Physically, I've gone from being Wonder Woman to being a lackluster cave-dwelling crone. Mentally, I've learned to suffer in silence. Isolation is a common tool used by many people with serious medical issues and by people who have simply given up and don't want to play the "happy" game any longer. It's easier to be isolated than it is to be around people. That overwhelming urge to put on a happy face has worn me out. It’s difficult to maintain that “everything is just peachy” act for very long and the older I get, the more that desire wanes. That's why I became a hermit. No, that's not entirely true. The combination of severe chronic pain and my lifelong inability to select a significant other who isn't a complete twisted freak-a-zoid asshole are the two major reasons for becoming a troglodyte. The wealthy call it being an eccentric recluse and the poor call it life after the fast lane. I call it how Mildred maintains some semblance of sanity.

Recently I decided to give medical marijuana a whirl. Both my primary care doctor and my pain management doctor gave me their blessing regarding my decision. Florida legalized marijuana for medicinal use in the 2016, but have always steered clear until now due to all the hoop jumping that's involved.  Once I finally made the decision, I carefully followed all the necessary steps dotting all i's and crossing all t's. Unfortunately, I know what a clusterfuck anything pertaining to the government can be. Anything they handle on a local, state or federal level involves too much red tape that only slows the process of forward movement and expands the room for errors to be made every step of the way.

First, I made an appointment to see Dr. Feelgood. Next, I had my medical records from my pain management doctor and my primary care doctor faxed to Dr. Feelgood. This was done to substantiate a medical diagnosis that is on the list of qualifying diseases and conditions. Previous medical records also help Dr. Feelgood to write a personalized prescription/care plan. Next, I kept my appointment (BTW, Dr. Feelgood really knew her stuff.) Once a person sees the doc and her recommendation is submitted along with your Patient ID number, the mandatory application for a Medical Marijuana card from the state with a $75 required fee (everyone has to get their piece of the pot pie) can be submitted online or by snail mail. About 2 weeks later, I received an email me with my card number. Until I receive my actual card, the email with the card number enables me to make purchases.  They say it takes about 4 to 6 weeks to receive the actual card. That's the speed of light for any government agency! I'll believe 4 to 6 weeks once I have my card in my hand in 4 to 6 weeks.

There's two dispensaries where I live and both do home deliveries. I'll most likely use that service in the future, but I wanted to check out the dispensary in person for my first purchase. I like to see how things work and if they run smoothly. It gives me an overall picture of whether or not I'm dealing with a bunch of imbeciles. It helps keep my expectations in the realm of reality. I have to admit, I was pleasantly surprised by the whole operation at Surterra Wellness right down to the ATM standing all shiny and new inside the dispensary. This feature made a lot of sense since the marijuana business is all cash and carry due to the current Federal laws and banking restrictions.They would have really impressed me if they had a blood plasma center on site so people could sell some blood to buy their weed. That's what I call one stop shopping!


The dispensary was a strange trip...nothing like copping a little weed back in the day from the friendly neighborhood pot dealer! Upon checking in for my first one stop shopping experience, I found out that my approved card number didn't show up in the Florida Stoners-R-Us database when the dispensary tried to access it. So I sat there and called the 800 number into the state registry. Ring! Ring! Ring! I first accessed their automated menu hoping I pushed all the right selections to talk to an actual human being. Of course, there were many callers ahead of me, but the automated recording assured me that the first available representative would help me and thanked me for waiting patiently. I wonder who I'd have to register a complaint with regarding the "on hold" music that played in my ear while I waited. I beg your pardon, but elevator music is not acceptable to listen to for more than 5 seconds and what stoner do you know who listens to that crap?


Fast forward about 45 minutes later and the state informed me that I indeed had been approved and the number emailed to me was correct. Duh! I knew the number was correct. The state knew the number was correct. I wanted to know why the dispensary couldn't access my correct account number. That issue was never answered. "I don't know" didn't seem like an acceptable answer, but I wasn't going to push the issue because I didn't want my correct account number to permanently float around lost in cyberspace. What I did was accept some things are meant to remain a mystery. So now, I'm back at square one. The dispensary needed to be able to access my account via my top secret correct account number. If the dispensary couldn't access my account with the prescription from my pot doc, then I wouldn't be able to make a purchase. Period! Why would I ever expect anything to ever go smoothly from start to finish and not be riddled with all sorts of Murphy's laws? I don't know how, but somehow magically, my card number appeared in the database after my phone call to Florida's Stoners-R-Us registry. Go figure! It must have been a miracle!

Stay tuned for part two of this saga...the purchase.