I couldn't decide if I wanted to post this. Last week when I posted that goofy infomercial that I created a few weeks back, looking all happy and dorky, I was actually decreasing the last prescription pain med that I am on. It's a really positive thing. I don't really have pain anymore; therefore, I don't need all these pain meds. The thing is, upon weaning myself off these pills, I experienced one of the darkest weeks of my life. I hate to sound super dramatic because everyone is going through something, right? But the whole point of this blog is to document my recovery and keep it real throughout. This was real. And I'm sure some of you or someone you know has experienced this. I went through some heavy withdrawal symptoms and the physical, emotional, and mental pain was horrible; occasionally it was excruciating.
I've been on a lot of pain medication over the course of the year. It was really easy to get on them. One wouldn't work anymore, so then I'd take two. When two or three didn't work, my family doctor would give me a new one to try - and then maybe I'd mix the two and see if that would work - why not add a new pill to help me sleep at night? It escalated quickly. Next thing I knew, I was addicted, I guess (this coming from a girl who has never even smoked pot because she doesn't know how to inhale. I'm not joking).
My med dependence came back to kick me in the ass post surgery when bag after bag of morphine and dilaudid did absolutely nothing to reduce my pain. It was horrible. Eventually, Dr. M decided to prescribe a PCA machine (the patient pushes a button to release painkiller every 10 minutes). It worked. That little button became my lifesaver. Every so often I would panic, sifting desperately through my blankets, "Where's my button?!!!" "Nurse, where's my button?"
24 hours later, I was pushing that button like clockwork - every 10 minutes. Sometimes I jumped the gun and pushed at the 9 minute mark, only to be greeted with the frustrating message, "patient locked out ." Stupid PCA. I counted down the minute and immediately pushed when I knew I would be "unlocked" from the system. Dr. M came to check on me that morning.
"Dr M, I'm like 1 button push away from being Lindsay Lohan. I kinda want to stop. How do I stop?" I whined.
"It's easy," he replied. "Stop pushing the button."
Well, frick then. I can do that.
So I did. I just stopped.
That night, I puked for 9 hours straight, which was officially The. Worst. Night. Ever. And then it was done. I was off dilaudid, morphine, and every other narcotic that I had taken on and off for a year. I did spend the next week in bed, feeling pretty rough - but I was going to feel crappy anyway after my surgery, so it seemed like the logical time to stop.
Which brings me to where I am today. One more prescription pain med. Tramadol is a pain reliever, much like morphine. Tramadol has changed my neurochemistry. It has affected the chemicals in my brain called serotonin and norepinephrine. I have been on Tramadol for 9 months now. I am physically addicted to it and must proceed carefully, slowly decreasing my dosage. This could take months to be completely Tramadol-free. But that's ok. I have all the time in the world.
Please please please, if you, or someone you know is planning to stop an addictive drug, prescription or otherwise, do NOT do it alone. Talk to a Pharmacist or your Doctor first, make a game-plan, and ensure someone can be with you at all times. It's really fricken scary. Do NOT take this on by yourself.
The tense and grammar are all wrong, but I decided not to fix it. I was writing as it was happening. Although it was difficult to write, in retrospect, it actually required me to focus - which was helpful. Here it goes:
DAY 1:
I am shaky, sweaty, jittery, and I can't concentrate. Is it possible to "see" noises? Because I'm pretty sure that I can see noises too. I keep checking the window to check if someone is watching me. Who the hell would want to watch this? This sucks.
Day 2:
Today Evan started the blender. It was so loud that I started screaming - which was then louder than the blender, so I started crying. That made me super sad. Evan looked confused. Poor Evan.
My stomach reeeeeallllly hurts and my legs are jumpy. They annoy me. I'm so hot that I throw all the covers off of me, 20 seconds later I am so freaking cold that I cover myself back up. Repeat. Decided to spend rest of day curled up on bathroom floor. I can't stop shaking and every now and then I feel a zapping sensation in my head. This sucks. I'm kinda scared.
Day 3:
I feel drained. I don't want to talk to anyone. My stomach hurts. My head is throbbing. My knee is aching. The only thing I've eaten today is chocolate covered almonds. I keep hearing, "Why even bother trying to stop the pills, it's not like my knee is actually ever going to get better anyways." Wha?? I don't actually believe that - why the hell is my brain putting these negative thoughts in my head? I picture a shady little man in a back alley of my frontal lobe, whispering, "pssssss...come on. Take a Tramadol. One won't kill ya." Ugh. This f'n sucks and if it doesn't get any better tomorrow, I quit. I'm sad and pathetic. I feel like a burden on my family, friends, and society. I've convinced myself that I am alone. But, magically, my phone lights up with texts from all my favorite people. It's like they know. How can I possibly be alone when I have so many fabulous people cheering me on?
Day 4:
11:00am: Had a nightmare last night that the world was ending. There were only a few minutes left on this Earth and I was alone because no one wanted to spend their last few minutes with me. I woke up screaming and crying and have been crying ever since.
I glanced at my reflection in the mirror and I resemble Amanda Bynes - not like pretty all-American "She's the Man" Amanda Bynes, but like cracked out, wandering the streets in that horrific wig, talking to herself, Amanda Bynes.
12:30pm: I texted Evan and asked him to come home because I can't be alone right now. I just can't. I don't trust myself to be alone. When he came home I felt unbelievably guilty that he had to leave the gym to deal with me. I cried and cried, blubbering things like, "I'm worthless," "Why are you still with me?" and then suddenly Evan pinched me! That's right...he pinched me. "Ouch! Did you just pinch me?" I yelled. "Come back to reality," he replied. Jerk. It kind of worked though. I'm momentarily more concerned about the pinch than my feelings of worthlessness. Things can't get any worse.
3:30 pm: Yes, they can! Every bad thing that can happen in a bathroom just happened all at the same time. Mom got called in for back-up. At this point, I kinda wanna die. I'm not actually considering killing myself, but I can't imagine living like this for 1 more minute. My head is vibrating with "noise." I look at my mom and feel like I'm such a disappointment to her. I know that I am not. I know she loves me more than anything, but at this moment I can't help but feel that I've just let her down.
7:00pm: Chatted with Dr. M via text. He told me that if I need to talk, I can come in and talk with him. He said he'd supply the kleenex. I'm sure things will be better tomorrow. They have to get better. I feel like I'm fighting a losing battle, but at least I know that if tomorrow is bad, I will have back-up with Dr. M. Maybe he can admit me to psych or something and I will be like "Girl, Interrupted." Total cry time today: 9+ hours.
Day 5:
Ok, so I didn't really sleep last night, but the world wasn't ending, nor did I awaken with a sense of impending doom, so that's good. In fact, I don't feel all that bad! Headache is gone. Stomach is hungry (finally!) and although I'm still not quite thinking clearly, I am not thinking that I am a worthless loser today. Actually, I feel kind of brave today. I can do this. Uh oh. I Just heard Natasha Bettingfield's song, "Unwritten," and I'm crying. The lyrics, "Today is where your book begins," hit me hard. I want a new beginning.
I combed my hair and left my house today! Whoo hoo. I was a little sweaty in Safeway, but I stood in front of the milk fridge with the door wide open for a little while. I'm not feeling too concerned about how this may look to others. Whatevs. I see customers lined up at the pharmacy and I kinda wanna stop each one and say, "Please take your medication responsibly. Don't let it take control of you!" but then I realize how that would appear. The public would see a crazy woman, who has now sweated through her tank top, waving her crutches angrily in the air - this could definitely result in a psych admission. Better not.
5:00pm: things seem to be crashing again. Every now and then I feel sheer panic and I kinda gasp, waiting for something terrible to happen. Nothing happens. It's like a mini panic attack. I'm so exhausted. Evan's taking me to my "happy" place - Candle Lake. If anything's gonna help, it'll be my deck at Candle Lake.
10:00pm: When we arrive at the lake, the water is not working. Ev ensures me that it will get fixed first thing in the morning but I can't help but feel like this is the last straw so I cry quietly on the couch. Ev sighs, kisses me on my forehead and leaves the room. He needs a break from me. I need a break from me.
Day 6:
It's a beautiful day at Candle Lake and I'm surrounded by awesome people. My friends are on the boat with me. I have a cold drink in my hand and the sun is shining. My buddies are so funny and supportive. All I hear is laughter and joy. I have moments where I can relax and enjoy this and then suddenly the moment ends and the feeling of panic returns. I feel better but I am still smiling through the madness.
Day 7:
Ok. I feel much better. I can do this. I still feel foggy and am not quite "Kirstie" just yet, but it's coming. I can feel it. My headache persists but I have a fabulous day on the boat planned with great friends. I know I can do this.
Day 8:
It's July 1 - Canada Day! This is my favorite day of the year. I wake up and realize that the fog has lifted. I'm back! I feel so relieved that I want to cry - but I have a parade to be in! Throughout the day, Ev and I occasionally hold hands or give each other a little "love tap" on the arm or leg. He knows that I'm back too. I send a quick text to Dr. M "Good news! I'm awesome again!" He writes back, "You were always awesome - even when you were stoned. No wake boarding!!!" haha. As I sit on my deck and watch the boaters cruise by I feel more alive than I've felt in a whole year. It just occurred to me that I essentially "lost" myself for a bit. I went from feeling nothing at all in my stoner state to feeling way too much. Terrifying. I'm not completely there yet. I'm still on 150mg of Tramadol a day - but I've cut my dosage down from 800mg (at my peak) and I feel good about that for now. I have months and months of rehab ahead of me. There will be pain. It won't be easy. But at this moment, I feel grateful for this gift of cartilage, I feel grateful for the beauty of Candle Lake, and most of all, I feel grateful to my amazing friends and family who have toughed it out and been there for me. I feel blessed.
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| My Rock. Love this guy. |
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| How can you not feel awesome with your arm around a Weber? :) |
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