Painful realizations

Last night I awoke to an amount of pain similar to that which I’ve experienced only one other time in my life. That time I called 911 and rode in an ambulance and stayed overnight in the hospital to get the pain under control. This time I was determined to not do that – I hate staying in the hospital, even if the rooms now at St. Al’s are like suites at a fine hotel.

I was crawling to the bathroom because I really had to pee and also the pain had made me really nauseas, and my husband discovered what I was doing. He helped me get there and got Paul (remember him, our Walker?) and made sure I made it back to bed.

This morning he told me the incident really scared him. He asked if I could get back on Neurontin, which I stopped taking because of the weight gain. He said he hates seeing me like this.

I think I finally get it. I’m not in this alone. I need to stop making decisions like I am.

This morning I called my doc’s office. I am going to try to a) get back on some kind of pain killer; b) see if my neurologist thinks it would be better to the route of fixing or putting in a new pain pump (he’s been leaning that way this whole time). It’s just I think the pain pump will work because the trial was successful. I just don’t want it because I don’t want to be on Fentanyl again. I’ll just see what he says.

I’m not just in this for me.