|
|
Carol H Tucker
Passionate about knowledge management and organizational development, expert in loan servicing, virtual world denizen and community facilitator, and a DISNEY fan
Contact Me
Subscribe to this blog |
beladona Memorial
Be warned:in this very rich environment where you can immerse yourself so completely, your emotions will become engaged -- and not everyone is cognizant of that. Among the many excellent features of SL, there is no auto-return on hearts, so be wary of where your's wanders...
|
Navigation Calendar
Days with posts will be linked
Most Recent Posts
|
|
|
the first Thursday of March
Today is the 5th day of the 10th week, the 7th day of the 3rd month, the 66th day of 2019, and: - Nametag Day
- National Be Heard Day
- National Cereal Day
- National Crown Roast of Pork Day
- National Hospitalist Day
- World Book Day
Let’s talk about pain management.
21 months ago, my beautiful daughter was diagnosed with stage 3C breast cancer four months before her 40th birthday. Since June 2017 she has been pumped full of noxious and toxic chemicals [AKA chemotherapy – and one was so hazardous that the nurse had to be in a hazmat suit to administer it], radiated to the limit of safety, operated on seven times, suffered an amputation [AKA bilateral mastectomy], and had part of her insides scooped out [AKA a partial hysterectomy]. She has been certified cancer free as a result of all this – she won her war against cancer, but now has to live with the battlefield. She struggles with the residual mental fog caused by all this medication, both past and what she still has to take. She goes to physical therapy. She does acupuncture. She uses medical marijuana. But her body reserves are depleted, and her nerves and muscles are literally screaming at her, and she lives in pain every single day. Sometimes the pain is so acute that she calls the doctor. Last night she went to the ER, begging for help. After a full battery of tests, the results were “no observable cause detected” and she was sent home at 4 AM to let the meds they gave her wear off and try and cope with the rest of her life until the next episode of acute distress sends her once more in a frenzy of seeking relief. My daughter is a brave woman. She gets up every day and deals with her life, grateful beyond all words that she is alive, that they found the tumors before it was too late – it was close, so close. Her husband is a marvel of strength and caring and support. They have insurance, they have friends, they have a community. She goes on with her life, she has even started her own business. She doesn’t take some medication they are willing to give her because she does not want to be reduced to walking about in a stupor, she wants to live the live that has been saved.
But….
I have been in a frenzy of pain myself. One night I hurt so much, waking up in the wee hours from a sound sleep to blazing pain, that I grabbed the ADVIL and just dumped some in my mouth. I have no idea how much I took that night, but I made myself sick so I know I overdosed. If I had real pain killers available at that moment, I would’ve been a statistic.
So when I read about an opioid addition, when I hear about someone who has taken too much and died, I don’t feel smug and superior, I don’t think “druggie” and turn up my nose. I think of what it means to be in so much pain that you cannot stand it. I think of a society that has learned very effectively how to inflict pain and use it for torture, but doesn’t really know what causes pain or how to fix it. Those who live with pain, simply have to try and cope with it
I taught both of my kids that “live is not fair – cope.” And I weep at the cost of that coping.
|
|
|
|
|
CEOExpress
