I did a thing. It seems like I’ve been saying that a fair bit lately and, in fact, I have done two things over the past week or so.
Firstly, I changed chiropractors. This wasn’t something on my radar, but I cancelled the appointment I had already booked for last Friday and made an appointment for this Monday with someone else. There wasn’t anything wrong with the chiropractor I had been seeing since August, when she took over for my beloved chiropractor who was taking a sabbatical. But last week, my beloved chiro strongly recommended making a change and I listened.
I had no problems with the replacement chiro, but the change was suggested for my own benefit. The new chiro I will be seeing has experience with lifting, and the thought is that this experience will ultimately be more beneficial to helping me get back to what I enjoy doing. I listened to my former chiropractor, because I trust his knowledge and judgement. Often I am hesitant to make assumptions about how others view me in terms of my worth or the depth of our relationship, even though I will often place great value on the relationship I have with those same individuals. I mean I’d like to think that my former chiropractor and I have achieved a friendship level of some sort, but I am always afraid that my opinion of the matter is one-sided and this goes for all sorts of relationships. But my former chiropractor has stated that he cares about me and the track that will get me back to lifting heavy. When someone knows you well and understands you better than most, you listen to what they have to say. When that same person says that he cares about you and your track and makes suggestions to guide you on that track, you listen. The choice was ultimately mine, and I made it.
The other thing I did this week was a little experiment with my medication. It’s no secret that I hate taking medication or that I hate the medication I am currently on. The pain clinic doctor wanted me to try Lyrica, so I’ve been on it for two months now. Thankfully the mood swings seem to have settled down after the first two weeks; however, I don’t know that I have ever felt such consistent fatigue and exhaustion. There has not been a single day on Lyrica where I have felt awake, alert, and rested, and I am not convinced that the minimal pain relief is worth the side effects. Besides the fatigue, I also have frequent dizziness, vision issues, and random muscle soreness. So, Thursday and Friday I skipped my morning dose. Quitting cold turkey is not recommended, so I still took my evening dose both days, but I wanted to see what difference there was in halving the dose for a couple of days.
I’m sure it was an imperfect experiment, and I am left uncertain what to do with my results. I took my dose this morning, so the experiment is over. As much as I hate taking medication, hate feeling this way, I just cannot see enough benefit in going off of it. How depressing to be stuck between a rock and a hard place.
I never felt like the medication made much difference to the pain and tingling I feel all of the time. At most I would have said the difference was marginal. My little experiment has me rethinking that opinion. The past two days combined with a couple of days missing one dose resulted in an increase in pain and symptoms. The difference isn’t drastic, but it is slightly worse than the marginal difference I had assumed. The pins & needles tingling in my feet and legs became sharper, pricklier. The numb left calf throbbed more, burned more. The currents of nerve pain coursing from buttocks to toes were hotter, pricklier, stronger. Everything was still tolerable…just more uncomfortable than usual. Last night, even though I had taken my evening dose, I had trouble sleeping. I was most definitely tired and wanting to sleep, but the pains in my legs and feet were strong enough to keep me awake for longer than normal.
If my family doctor wasn’t such a jerk, I’d feel more inclined to discuss this with him and get his advice. But he is a jerk, at least with my care. Every fibre of my being rebels against the idea of making an appointment for anything that is not absolutely necessary, because the past fifteen months of “care” have been little more than a sad comedy of errors and bungling. So I feel stuck taking a drug that has turned me into a zombie. Stuck waiting for a nerve block, although I wonder how effective that will be since there is no damage to the nerves. Stuck living with constant pain and discomfort. Stuck living with pain and discomfort despite taking this terrible drug.
There’s not much rising up going on today. I think that’s okay.