It's been quite a week. Pain management has been an interesting and at times frightening process. On Tuesday night I changed my patch and put on two fentanyl patches (opioid patches used for pain control) instead of the one. My doctor had told me if the pain did not go away with one I could try two. I slept just fine through the night but the next day I couldn't wake up at all. I was beyond fatigued; even opening my eyes seemed like a difficult task. Around 2:30 in the afternoon I finally wake up because I need to go to the bathroom. I felt funny but figured it would be ok once I went and did my thing and got back in bed. Well, the trek to the bathroom (less than a hop, skip, and a jump) proved challenging. Once there, the room started spinning, my hands were numb, I was sweating and quite frankly I started to panic. I knew what was coming; any second I was going to start throwing up. I know for some people throwing up is no big deal. For me, it's a very scarry and unnatural ordeal. I start crying and shaking and I literally turn into a five year old that can't even think for herself. After a way too disgusting nightmare to describe, I managed to find my phone and call Nate. He hears a frantic crying voice saying, "Please come home now. Can you come home?" While he's trying to figure out what's going on, I've already hung up and am dialing my mom. She tells me she can leave right away but she called Nate first since he was so much closer than she was. She called me back to tell me he was already on his way. I stayed on the phone with my mom until Nate arrived. I managed to calm myself down a bit and explained to Nate what had happened. Unfortunately some of it needed no explanation since the evidence of what had transpired was still in our bathroom. As he's cleaning up I'm worried because I can't get the room to stop spinning or my hands to stop tingling. Nate brings me a little pack of Jello and before I could get through half of it, it was coming out. Luckily I made it back to the bathroom to make more of a mess for poor Nate. As he's holding my hair back and rubbing my back, I'm thinking, "This guy must really love me." After this second go around it dawns on me that the doctor had warned me this could happen and I removed one of the patches. Meanwhile Nate was calling the doctor to find out what we should do. It takes a while to get him on the phone so I end up removing both patches. By that point I would have removed my skin if you told me that would make me feel better. The doctor instructed us to put one patch back on and that two patches was obviously too much for me but that I would start feeling better within 24 hours. I waited about 4 hours before I put a patch back on because I would have taken large amounts of pain over what I had felt during the overdose.
Without exaggeration, this was one of the most frightening things that I think I've ever been through during all of this. Luckily I've been able to manage the pain better this second half of the week but I still have pain - even with the patch and the Percocet. I am beginning to think that being pain free may not be realistic during this time. My doctor however, doesn't seem convinced. He believes that I should see a neurologist and find out what is going on and that perhaps they could find a way to make me much more comfortable. I plan to make an appointment with a neurologist as soon as possible. In the meantime I’m hanging just trying to hang in there and I’m hoping that this phase will end very soon.
Please keep the prayers coming. I know God is listening and I have an abundance of faith that this will time will soon pass.