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Like chopping off your hand to treat a splinter. Or something.

Blah blah blah, my periods are horrible, blah blah blah, pain, cramps, O GOD MY LIFE, blah blah blah.

I had to call my doctor on Wednesday for the above-referenced issue, because the Soma I was given to help me sleep, mixed with Pamprin, was doing two things for me:  Jack and Shit.

After assuring her that yes, I did make an appointment with an OB-GYN (something I haven’t done in nearly 5 years…yes, I’m slightly phobic about the refrigerated speculum, why do you ask?), I was told that something had been called into the pharmacy.

I told myself that it was probably prescription-strength Aleve, and started taking stock of what was in the medicine cabinet that I hadn’t already tried.  I eyed the liquor bottles, too…I’m not even going to lie about that.  This is what is commonly known as “desperation”.

JB went to pick up the prescription for me, and came home with a bottle of Darvocet.  I’d call that a win, wouldn’t you?

Er, except that apparently I have some sort of “issue” with narcotics.

The Darvocet worked, sure, but only for a couple of hours at a time.  And it gave me the shakes.  And I sweat so much at night that my hair stuck straight up on whatever side of my head was against the pillow.

Thanksgiving was FUN, is what I’m trying to say.  (I’m sure someone in JB’s family is having discussions about “that girl” he married, and what an absolute mess I am.  And how he could do so much better, and whatever happened to that girl?  That he goes to church with?  With the kid?)

I figured that, since it was helping the cramps enough to where I could take catnaps and short showers, I could handle the other side effects, particularly since I didn’t have anywhere to be this weekend that required any brainpower (moving furniture and attending a shower…no biggie).

I was wrong, y’all.

You ever heard of rebound pain?  It’s most commonly associated with headaches (migraines, usually), but it can happen with congestion, and can happen with body pain, particularly with people who suffer from chronic conditions where the body’s like, “ENOUGH ALREADY”.

Basically, you have pain.  You take a painkiller for it, and your body’s defenses go down, because the drug is taking care of the pain.  But because the CAUSE of the pain isn’t fixed, when the medicine wears off, the pain’s still gonna be there.  It’s going to feel worse than it did initially, too, because the body’s methods of dulling pain went away in response to the medicine taking over.

When you have something like fibromyalgia, where your body is a whiny bitch about pretty much everything, this rebound is going to happen in places that didn’t even hurt to begin with.  Like your freakin’ ass cheeks, for example.  And your collar bone.  And your damned ELBOWS.

So forget moving furniture, and forget attending anything where smiling is a requirement.  I spent a good bit of time flat on my back, either in bed or in a tub of warm water, trying to figure out what the hell was going on.  I thought I was having a flare.  I kept poking different parts of my body, like a kid with a bruise, trying to figure out if there was some sort of rhyme or reason to the places that hurt, like I’d done something stupid, or over-exerted myself.  I broke out the pressure point chart, and LO AND BEHOLD, the places that hurt the most were the ones with the happy little red dots on them.

I stopped taking the Darvocet, and stuck with Pamprin.  It wasn’t awesome, but it took the edge off.

Today?  I feel much better.

That’s some weird shit, y’all.  I’ve been looking things up, and the nearest I can figure is that it’s my body’s over-reaction to rebound pain.  I haven’t experienced any symptoms that would point to an allergic reaction.  I guess I just need to stay away from anything containing a narcotic.

Hmm…over-sensitivity to marijuana AND narcotics, and inability to drink because of medication…  I’m a blast to have at college parties, you betcha.

And no, I wasn’t lying to my doctor – I have an appointment with a gynecologist during exam week.  Three days before my honeymoon.

The doctor I’m going to see?  Delivered JB.  I predict absolutely no awkwardness at all.  The only reason I’m seeing him, and not the last doctor I saw, is because his office fees aren’t astronomically expensive.  Also, he’s old.  Somehow, that makes me feel better about the whole thing.

THIS is what you all missed about me, right?  Cooter stories?

Well, I haven’t been shooting in a while.  Sue me.  Once school is out, and I get back from my honeymoon, I’ll have all sorts of fun stories to tell, I’m sure.  Maybe even some photos.  I owe you all pictures from the past couple of months, anyway.

2 comments to Like chopping off your hand to treat a splinter. Or something.

  • Joe

    763.0909. Accupuncture Healing Arts Group. My wife has Fibromyalgia and bad allergies, and it’s shocking how much these guys have helped.

    Sounds like you’ve tried everything else anyway… Seriously, give them a call.

  • Knowing that “Cooter” has that meaning gives me an entirely new take on Dukes of Hazzard reruns.