Memories of Who I Once Was

I remember (vaguely) during my junior year in high school, I was healthy, bopping through the hallowed halls of Niwot High School, on my way to Miss Hudson’s 5th period choir class with some friends, all of us sporting leg warmers, acid wash jeans, big hair, and bangle jewelry, and all of us singing this brand new #1 hit, “How Will I Know” at the top of our lungs.  Move over Belinda, Joan, and Pat!!  Whitney Houston was our new idol, and there was no denying it.  

After the recent and tragic demise of this iconic, angelic voice, I find myself reflecting on, not only my happy high school memories, but my own past issues with “substance abuse” as well.  The first 14 years of my RSDism were spent in a drug induced fog.  And, I might add, it is not a kind of fog that I would ever recommend to anyone, RSDers included.  I know that we need our drugs and meds and whatever else it takes to get us through our days, but living the last 6+ years of my life without the “fog” has given me the power and confidence to face my days differently.  Being off of the pills does not make me a stronger person, it just makes me a little more creative in my attempts to hinder the pain.  What works for one of us, doesn’t necessarily mean that it will work for all of us.  But getting out of the box and trying, and failing, and trying and failing and trying again are what make me stronger.  Thomas Edison failed numerous times before he finally had the right combination of elements to make his light bulb work for the first time.  (the actual number of times has become something of a controversy of late, so I’m just going with “numerous times.”)

I can honestly say that I have tried way more than my fair share of pills, treatments, and street drugs over the years.  Pills such as: Vicodin, Vicoprofen, Percocet, Valium, Morphine, Methadone, Xanax, Neurontin, Paxil, Amatriptiline, Zoloft, Cymbalta, Celebrex, Naprosyn, Oxycontin, Indomethacin, Prednisone, Lidocaine, and … well … those are the only ones I can remember off of the top of my head right now.  As for treatments, I’ve tried nerve blocks, physical therapy, occupational therapy, religious counseling, bio-feedback, massage therapy, acupressure, acupuncture, TENS units, psychotherapy, hypnotism, and I know I’m forgetting a few more of those too.  For some reason I feel that I need to preface my use of street drugs.  Yes, sometimes they were just fun to do, but, what started out as a little fun, quickly became stupid reasoning, and that turned to addiction.  I wanted the pain to go away.  I wanted, no, I needed a vacation from the pain and from the existence that had become my pathetic life due to the pain.  I turned to cocaine and magic mushrooms.  That turned into crack and acid.  Alcohol was mainstream as well, but legal.  After a while (7 years, give or take), I was able to back away from my own ish long enough to get myself off of the coke and psychedelics.  The pills still weren’t doing an adequate job of killing my pain though, and I found myself taking more pills… and more pills… and even more pills.  Combine that with my booze intake and I didn’t get out of bed for almost 3 years.  It hurt too damn bad, the pills and alcohol weren’t working for anything other that sleep, and on the rare occasions that I would leave my bed, the prospect of walking into doors and walls and tripping over thin air were too hazardous for my foggy brain to navigate.  I would show up to family dinners and pass out in my mashed potatoes.  When I was conscious, I resembled Lindsay Lohan’s mug shots.  My words were slurred and in a foreign language that even God couldn‘t translate, and you know how I feel about using my words.

After being intervention-ed by my parents in early June 2005, I knew it was time for a change.  The tricky part was finding a drug and alcohol rehabilitation establishment that would honor my doctor’s recommendations and warnings for weaning me off a certain percentage of the meds.  HA!!  Anyone who knows anything about rehab facilities knows that this is not possible.  Once you go in, you’re done with everything!  Cold turkey, even with a 12 Step Program, is life threatening to an RSDer and those “counselors” don’t give a rat’s butt about anything other than full sobriety and recovery.  10 days after my not-so-fun family intervention, I walked myself through the doors of my local hospital’s Psych Ward … oops!!  I’m sorry, I meant “Life Management Unit.”  I needed to be closely watched and monitored by actual medical professionals as my meds were decreased to an “acceptable” dosage and the booze was drained from my system.  My anesthesiologist was always on call, the unit shrink was always on call, and my pain management doc was in and out … more out than in, but she was around-ish.  They began my detox process and I was finding that, dt’s aside, I was feeling better … and stronger.  After 1 week on the unit, I walked into the shrink’s office and declared that I was done with ALL pills.  The woman hung her head and mumbled, “You can’t.”  Ah ha!!  She had done her homework on RSD!  But I’m kinda stubborn, if you hadn’t guessed, and said, “What do we need to do to make this happen?”  That afternoon there was a convention of doctors and nurses, and family members.  Tears were shed, cuss words were screamed, and I think I even remember a tissue box getting hurled across the room a couple of times, but the patient won!  My pain doc said that there would come a day when I would have to take a pill or two for the pain, but that would be my call.

My sobriety date is June 24, 2005 and I have not touched a drop of alcohol since.  The pain doc was right though, it took just over 9 months before I called her and told her that “that time had come.”  And what do you think happened when I swallowed that large, white pill full of 750 Vicoden ES?  Let’s just go with projectile vomit and leave it at that.  Well, that didn’t help my pain level!  My anesthesiologist suggested  a very low dose of Oxycodone … 5mg low, and I had the same damn reaction!!  But it was the lowest form of anything that had the potential of working at the time.  That was when I found my holistic path.  (this is a subject for a later date.)

What does all of this have to do with Whitney?  She went to rehab three times and, for whatever reason, couldn’t break herself free from the grip of addiction.  I never ever ever want to re-live those first 90 days of my sobriety.  I went to AA meetings and had to take a big pillow with me so that I could sit on the floor.  I was so jittery that I would bounce right off of the chairs.  It has taken a long time for me to feel comfortable in my own RSD riddled skin.  I don't ever want to have to go through all of that torment of learning those lessons again.  I now know what incites my flares, I now know what works for me when I do flare.  I now know how to prepare myself for most weather changes, and I now know how to save myself money by doing my own physical and occupational therapies at home.  I have come to rely on the fact that, even though I hate the side effects with every ounce of my being, my low dose Ketamine nasal spray will not make me do the Technicolor yawn and create more pain. My holistic meds help make my days manageable and I am still booze-free!!

I have faith that I will continue, strong, in my sobriety.  I have faith that I will not succumb to the destiny of one of my idols.  I have faith that I am on the right path for me and my RSD, and I have faith that all of my fellow RSDers will find their paths away from the fog and into a life that they will be proud to own and live … just like me!!!