I really don’t think I can do that again.
So, as many people know, I suffer from a really painful
disorder called Endometriosis, but which I refer to as ‘Metrie’ the same way
that people with Cystic Fibrosis call it ‘Sixty-Five Roses’. Makes it sound nicer; maybe now it’ll act
nicer. No? Oh, well, dammit.
In a nutshell, about every month it flares up, usually not
too bad, and can be fixed with ungodly amounts of around 6 ibuprofen, 4 naproxen
and usually a few diphenhydramine because really, you think I wanna be conscious
thru that? No. Massive crippling pelvic
pain, sometimes extending up to my ribs and down to my knees, horrific
sensitivity to light, heat, touch, smell and sound, and PAIN PAIN PAIN that
often results in vomiting and delirium. It’s so great. Today it was so bad that
I could not crawl to get the phone to call for someone to take me to the
hospital for about an hour, couldn’t stand to reach the pills in my medicine
cabinet, and I lay on the linoleum of my
kitchenette, rolling in pain and shaking, until my t-shirt and hair were both
DRIPPING wet from perspiration. The
worst part is that the pain won’t let you push it to the back of your mind- you
can’t really distract yourself from it. You are perfectly, totally aware of
every single body-wrenching twist, every time. Today might’ve been the worst I have ever had
it, maybe the second worst. No, no I take that back; the other time I actually
made it to the hospital where I got lots and lots of morphine, which was really
nice. This time I got the whole 3 hour party. 3 hours seems like 5 hours, I swear.
It was so fun. That was this morning from about Noon until 3 o’clock. It is now
11:30pm and my arms and legs are still very weak and shaking.
Anyhow, as I lay on the couch, semi-comatose about 4 this
afternoon, I thought to myself; “I don’t think I can do that again.” I was so
tired I could hardly move, and even talking was laborious. I had taken a small handful of pills, on which I blame
the temporary loss of feeling in my fingers, lips, forehead and toes. I didn’t
mind. Hell, I didn’t want to feel ANYTHING right then.
So tomorrow I am getting an appointment with Dr. (probably
Johnson, maybe Rafael) to get some f’vicodin or some f’oxycotin or some f’weed!
I don’t care, but this can’t keep happening. God, that was such Hell.
Sorry for burdening everyone with that, but getting it over
my lips seems to help. Or over the keyboard. Same thing. J
