Don’t Call It A Comeback

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It’s been a lil minute since I posted anything, really. A few weeks, I think. A lot of…life, I guess…has gone on . Good things and bad things. Although, at this point in my life, it is increasingly difficult to distinguish between the two, since so many lessons are learned from those bad things. Lessons that I deeply value. There is also an ever-growing understanding inside of me that my very worst day would be considered a lovely day by someone else in this world. In light of that, what do I really have to complain about?

One bad thing that I have yet to manage to learn from is living with constant, sever, pain. Honestly, I’ve had about all I can take of it. I hate the pain, I hate the meds, I hate the whole thing. A few weeks ago, I ran out of my primary pain medication. I actually looked at it as a good thing, initially. I took the situation as an opportunity to try to another approach to dealing with pain since I hate taking that medication. It dulls me…changes me in ways that have a negative impact on my life. So, I thought I’d try something new and different. Think outside the box and what have you. I thought that I might actually be able to meditate the pain away. That did not work at all, so I moved on to wishing it away. Still, no luck. After that, I simply pretended that  it wasn’t  there every second of the day. Mind over matter. THAT DID NOT WORK. For once, I have encountered something that I cannot simply power through, no matter how badly I’d like to.

Went to visit Mom and my grandfather. While I was there, I visited the doc as a walk-in that Monday. I couldn’t wait for my appointment to get some relief. My doc wasn’t in, so I saw another one. Dr. L. First off, I had to take a drug test for the first time. People who take scheduled meds are now required to take drug tests. If you don’t have the prescribed drug in your system, what are you doing with it? It’s a legit question, considering that my forty dollar bottle of meds has a twelve hundred dollar street value. Even so, it feels demeaning and invasive. It feels like judgement, which it’s not. After that, it was a bit of a wait while they processed my test. The nurse came back to inform me that I had passed. What? Okay…I think.

The nurse explained the importance of drug testing, in the context of all the new DEA regulations. Were the DEA to review my file and see that I had not been drug tested, the clinic could be sanctioned in some way, and my doctor could be severely disciplined. Seriously. The DEA? Those silly bastards can’t keep crack out of our elementary schools, but they’re going to spend their time harassing legit doctors and the patients who need them? While I’m aware of the huge problem with these meds being sold on the street, I still find the situation laughable. I went out of my way to find a doc that was not in any way associated with pill distribution. My doc has no ‘rep’. She’s a good doctor who believes that pain drugs were made for a reason and that there is no shame in prescribing them , nor is there any shame in taking them. (We had that conversation one day after I explained how embarrassed I feel when I get meds filled sometimes). In any case, I was happy to be on the verge of getting a much needed break from this pain.

I went to Galveston to get my prescriptions filled. I drove down the seawall for a Sonic coke while I waited. Tourists crowded the island. I had all but forgotten how crowded that place could get on a holiday weekend. The water was choppy and mud brown, and the wind was blowing like crazy. But it was nice to see all those shiny happy people. I really miss that place, since moving up here to tree country.

The morning flew by and, before I knew it, it was noon and I was almost back to Mom’s house. She had a really nice lunch laid out…fried chicken and a garden salad. She always makes things special when I’m visiting. While I was doing the doc/med thing, she was getting mink eye lashes put on. I noticed how amazing they looked as we talked over our lunch. Grandad just sort of sat there, not really in the room at all. He’s gotten so old. At ninety, he’s earned the right to ignore our girl talk and just enjoy his meal. But, I do worry about him. In the last year, the signs of age have really begun to set in in terms of his mental state. In his mind, he’s still a Marine and can handle anything. In reality, he has a heater by his chair because 73 degrees is too cold for him in the house.

After lunch, still not having time to shower, I piled on some makeup and tried to do my hair. It was so hot in that house. Even Mom was complaining about it, but she and I both agreed that Dad’s comfort came first. So…sweating it was! lol!

I got my trip back home underway, making a stop to meet a friend. I was embarrassed by my appearance. I’m already a large woman, but I normally look well groomed. Not so much that day! Dear GAWD! It was just the most uncomfortable feeling I can think of. I was in the clothes that I’d slept in the night before, since Mom spilled her Monster drink all over my clean clothes. It had taken so long at the doctor that I didn’t have time to stop and get my nails done, so I recycled the ones from last time. I’m telling you…the whole thing was just…OMG! Plus, there is a weird smell in my truck. Exish and I have been trying to find its source for weeks now. I have no idea what is. I’m actually afraid to find out. Yep…it’s THAT bad. When it was all said and done, I was never so happy to get back on the road home…here…the boonies.

And that, dear people, is that.

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