Kathi_S
Member
This is an offshoot of another thread about doctors who judge patients who are obese.
Well, I am going to tell you another hard truth about me now. When I got diagnosed in 2006 with fibromyalgia there were many days that the pain was so bad, I prayed at night that I was would die in my sleep.
The only medications available to treat fibromyalgia were Lyrica and Cymbalta. Lyrica caused me to gain 50 lbs in 2 months, and Cymbalta did nothing.
I went to specialist after specialist. Tried every alternative medicine known to mankind. When my doctor found out how much over the counter pain medication I was taking, she freaked out.
She insisted I switch to opiods, as they were safer. I didn't want to, but she was adamant that it was better for my kidneys. So I did. This was around 2012.
Of course, over time, my dosage increased as my tolerance increased.
On New Years Eve 2013, my husband was hospitalized for a small bowel obstruction. They did emergency surgery on him on New Years Day.
His surgeon went out of town. My husband went into afib, and was transferred to the cardiac wing, so he had a whole new team taking care of him. Noone that had seen him prior to his surgery was now taking care of him.
His stomach kept getting bigger and bigger. He was in a great deal of pain. No one would listen to me. They were only concerned with his heart which had already converted to normal rhythm.
On the day his doctor returned, they rushed him into emergency surgery. He had the worst case of peritonitis the hospital had ever seen. Had he gone one more day he would have died.
They opened him up, found a nick in his colon, cleaned his abdominal and chest cavity out, and left him open in ICU for 36 hours, then took him back to surgery to repeat the process again. They left the wound open.
You can probably imagine how stressed out I was. I took a few extra pain pills during this time, but I asked my doctor's permission. She said yes and wrote another prescription. When the pharmacy called her, she was worried about her license and told them not to fill it.
At any rate, my husband was in the hospital for 30 days, lost 30 lbs and looked like a skeleton when he was released.
I was still under a lot of stress. One of my other doctors gave me a one time prescription for my pain medication until I found a new PCP.
My husband's home nurse recommended a doctor to me. He became my favorite all time doctor ever. He did prescribe my the pain medication, but he was also the one who got me off them.
All of that was just the background to how I got addicted to pain meds. What I really want to talk about is what happens when you go to the ER for ANYTHING if you are taking pain medications.
You are automatically assumed to be a "drug seeker". No matter why you are there. They do not take you seriously. They lecture you about the amount of opiods you are on.
It was so bad, that I would refuse to seek medical attention unless I was afraid it was life threatening. The shame I would feel after going to the ER was simply not worth it.
The last time I went to the ER, I was having extreme pain under my right rib area. I knew I was constipated (a constant battle with opioid use) so I had stop taking my pain meds the day before. I told the doctor at the ER this. They did blood work, scans, and an enema (which cleared up one issue).
So the doctor comes back and lectures me about all the pain medication I'm on, asks me who prescribed it, tells me the enema seems to have solved my problem, so I can go home.
I say, but what about this pain under my ribs? I am practically in tears, as I haven't had anything for pain for almost 48 hours at this point.
He looks dumbfounded. You're still in pain? I just burst into tears. He notes that I haven't asked for for anything for pain the entire time I was there. He looks at the labs and scans and tells me that my liver enzymes which normally run around 50 are both around 1000, and my liver appears inflamed.
He decides to admit me overnight to see if my liver function tests improve. Then out of nowhere my PCP comes in! It was his night for hospital rounds! He stood up for me. Made the other doctor feel like an idiot.
The thing is the liver thing would have been missed entirely, especially if I had asked for something for the pain. I knew better than to ask.
It is unfair to judge people for circumstances they know nothing about. My PCP knew I didn't like being on the pain meds and was determined to get off them. He knew I never wanted to start them. He knew I didn't abuse them. He knew me.
It's the doctors that meet you for five minutes and think they have you all figured out. How dare they judge us like that. How dare they judge my doctor for prescribing medications for me.
I am happy to report in 2018, I quit opiods pretty much cold turkey. At the time I was on 90 mg ms contin, 30 mg oxycodone and ketamine nasal spray.
Well, I am going to tell you another hard truth about me now. When I got diagnosed in 2006 with fibromyalgia there were many days that the pain was so bad, I prayed at night that I was would die in my sleep.
The only medications available to treat fibromyalgia were Lyrica and Cymbalta. Lyrica caused me to gain 50 lbs in 2 months, and Cymbalta did nothing.
I went to specialist after specialist. Tried every alternative medicine known to mankind. When my doctor found out how much over the counter pain medication I was taking, she freaked out.
She insisted I switch to opiods, as they were safer. I didn't want to, but she was adamant that it was better for my kidneys. So I did. This was around 2012.
Of course, over time, my dosage increased as my tolerance increased.
On New Years Eve 2013, my husband was hospitalized for a small bowel obstruction. They did emergency surgery on him on New Years Day.
His surgeon went out of town. My husband went into afib, and was transferred to the cardiac wing, so he had a whole new team taking care of him. Noone that had seen him prior to his surgery was now taking care of him.
His stomach kept getting bigger and bigger. He was in a great deal of pain. No one would listen to me. They were only concerned with his heart which had already converted to normal rhythm.
On the day his doctor returned, they rushed him into emergency surgery. He had the worst case of peritonitis the hospital had ever seen. Had he gone one more day he would have died.
They opened him up, found a nick in his colon, cleaned his abdominal and chest cavity out, and left him open in ICU for 36 hours, then took him back to surgery to repeat the process again. They left the wound open.
You can probably imagine how stressed out I was. I took a few extra pain pills during this time, but I asked my doctor's permission. She said yes and wrote another prescription. When the pharmacy called her, she was worried about her license and told them not to fill it.
At any rate, my husband was in the hospital for 30 days, lost 30 lbs and looked like a skeleton when he was released.
I was still under a lot of stress. One of my other doctors gave me a one time prescription for my pain medication until I found a new PCP.
My husband's home nurse recommended a doctor to me. He became my favorite all time doctor ever. He did prescribe my the pain medication, but he was also the one who got me off them.
All of that was just the background to how I got addicted to pain meds. What I really want to talk about is what happens when you go to the ER for ANYTHING if you are taking pain medications.
You are automatically assumed to be a "drug seeker". No matter why you are there. They do not take you seriously. They lecture you about the amount of opiods you are on.
It was so bad, that I would refuse to seek medical attention unless I was afraid it was life threatening. The shame I would feel after going to the ER was simply not worth it.
The last time I went to the ER, I was having extreme pain under my right rib area. I knew I was constipated (a constant battle with opioid use) so I had stop taking my pain meds the day before. I told the doctor at the ER this. They did blood work, scans, and an enema (which cleared up one issue).
So the doctor comes back and lectures me about all the pain medication I'm on, asks me who prescribed it, tells me the enema seems to have solved my problem, so I can go home.
I say, but what about this pain under my ribs? I am practically in tears, as I haven't had anything for pain for almost 48 hours at this point.
He looks dumbfounded. You're still in pain? I just burst into tears. He notes that I haven't asked for for anything for pain the entire time I was there. He looks at the labs and scans and tells me that my liver enzymes which normally run around 50 are both around 1000, and my liver appears inflamed.
He decides to admit me overnight to see if my liver function tests improve. Then out of nowhere my PCP comes in! It was his night for hospital rounds! He stood up for me. Made the other doctor feel like an idiot.
The thing is the liver thing would have been missed entirely, especially if I had asked for something for the pain. I knew better than to ask.
It is unfair to judge people for circumstances they know nothing about. My PCP knew I didn't like being on the pain meds and was determined to get off them. He knew I never wanted to start them. He knew I didn't abuse them. He knew me.
It's the doctors that meet you for five minutes and think they have you all figured out. How dare they judge us like that. How dare they judge my doctor for prescribing medications for me.
I am happy to report in 2018, I quit opiods pretty much cold turkey. At the time I was on 90 mg ms contin, 30 mg oxycodone and ketamine nasal spray.
