Sunday, September 3, 2006

As I read Loretta's journal this morning, I sobbed.

Not for Loretta, for she has an astounding emotional ability to move on.

I cried for me.

I cried for the loss I feel.

I am unable to see the fix.

How long can I go on fighting.

Not for my life.

But for the battle in my life.

And, what a battle it is.

I long hopefully to win the battle.  Just once in a while.

Which one?  There are so many that plague my existence.

Lupus has declared war on me.

But, there are so many battles.

My chosen battle is PAIN.

The issue is that I am unable to gather the troops.  To bring them together so that they understand what I need.  (the troops being the medical community).

I thought I was winning this battle. 

Well, I believed that I had found my general.  He went by the name of PAIN MANAGEMENT MAN.

I am just a soldier in this battle.

But, my general has no foresight.  He lacks compassion.

I sat sobbing in the chair across from his desk on Friday.

He spoke saying that he did not understand how I could still be experiencing pain.

He went on tosaythat the med I am currently on is equivalent to like 40 vicadin daily.

I asked him what his point was.  He said that maybe my lupus is flaring.

I said..........Duh.

His look was priceless.  His remark not so.

This may be a rheumatological problem, contact your rheumatologist.

I calmly spoke through my tears. Every word thought out carefully.  Despite my anxiety at that moment.

The words were difficult to come.  But, I managed to remind him of the reason I first came to see him.

You are a pain management doctor.  I have pain. I first came here to have you manage my pain.  Not to be given the pain medication speech.

Friday's appointment was an emergency visit.  I was told to bring the rest of my fentanyl patches with me.  I knew the reason for this.  So, they could ensure that I was not an addict.

The next scheduled appointment is for Thursday.

He asked to see the patches I had left.  Of which I had three left.

Which is the exact number I should have left.  That rules out the addict theory. 

And, don't think  I didn't remind him of that.

Then he had an epiphany.  He looked at the patches and then said....

You have the wrong patches.

Apparently it goes this way.  There are three kinds of patches for the dose I am on.

The name brand.

Two generics.

One generic sucks.

The other works.

I had the one that sucked.

His attitude switched.  He knew what to do to help me.

He said you need the sanyo patch.


I became so angry at him.  Maybe my anger should have been directed to my pharmacist.  But, it was towards PAIN MANAGEMENT MAN.

I said, I'm quite happy about this at least.  But, you should have asked about this prior to your previous belittling speech.

I was so upset at his minimizing attitude.  Do I look like a drug addict?

I reminded him of what occurred during our first visit.  That I had asked for pain site injections.  I had voiced my feelings on wearing 75 mcg of fentanyl on my arm.

That I was hopeful that he would be able to effectively manage my pain.  That when I call crying, it's not because I am looking for someone to decry my feelings.

So, I left there with two prescriptions.  Apparently, 75 mcg is hard to acquire.  Pharmacists have difficulty ordering them.  I left to fill one for 25 mcg and one for 50 mcg.  But, not without his comment that I may have to pay out of pocket for them since my current Rx still has 6 days left.


The new patches work better.  At least I am not crying out in pain with each movement.

Pain will ever be my companion.

I should get used to it.

But, when the pain is so horrid, it's a hard task to accomplish.

So, I still cry.

Have lost the battle this week.

Not the battle on pain itself, but the battle with SUPER PHYSICIAN MAN. (or all of my physician's).