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Vicc · 10-05-2007, 05:07 AM

Saw the doc yesterday; I do it every three months, which is about as often as I go outside for any reason. Five hours in a car is pure pain, but yesterday was special; the moment we took the off-ramp to the hiway out of Ks City we saw that it had become a giant parking lot. About three miles ahead, two helicopters were circling right over the the hiway.

My daughter took the 1st off-ramp, confident we would find a road that parallels the Interstate, get back on and take an alternate route. It didn't quite turn out that way. We had just left an Interstate in Ks City during rush hour, and that off ramp took us onto a nice, forested area along a curving hiway. It was like the Twilight Zone: Scotty's transporter had zapped us fron Ks City to some place in Vermont.

We drove 5 miles without finding a single cross-street that would take us parallel with the Interstate; 5 miles North instead of South. At the 1st intersection with traffic lights, we turned left and began looking for a street the would take us back to the Interstate. After 3 miles, we found a mountain of dirt across the road and a Road Closed sign.

To cut a long story short, after a few more wrong streets we were apporached by a group of 5 young gentlemen dressed like the crack-dealers dress in Cops. No, we don't have a cell phone; she only goes to Walmart and I'm a stay-at-home. The only good thing I can say about that detour is that we never lost our sense of humor -- though I think her laughter was a bit forced as she drove right past the young men.

This is story that will be told and retold by my children for years to come. The sad part is that it's true, it will be retold and laughed about: Our lives really are that dull. We all love long, kinda pointless stories; as long as there's some gallows humor in it somewhere. But the detour happened after I saw the doc.

Anyway, about the doc: I weigh 134#, exactly what I weighed 3 months ago. At our last appt, I asked him to set up an intra-thecal pump trial (After 2 botched spine surgeries I swore no one would ever go there again, but I'm so sick of oxycodone I have to do something), and he said he would set it up as soon as I gained some more weight.

The first thing he asked was how much I weighed. I know my despair showed in my eyes, even though it passed quickly; I know I'll gain weight but for that instant I was the 7 year-old who opened the big present at Christmas and saw it wasn't a model train. I told him I couldn't believe I hadn't gained any weight; that I had recently eaten 2 burgers and fries and he knew there was a time when it took a whole day to finish a Big Mac.

He knows how desperate I am to get off oxycodone. I always feel drugged and it always feels more like a hangover than a high. I don't understand how people can get high off pain drugs (except IM morphine, where I'm still not sure whether it beats sex or just comes very close).

Anyway, he's sending the paperwork for a trial to work comp, and I don't see how they can refuse to pay. If they refuse, they have to pay my lawyer for the hearing and any appeals, even if we lose. And he told me I would be in hospital for the trial.

I hate hospitals. It isn't that I'm a crotchety old man who would be expected to hate just about everything, I have a special reason for hating hospitals:I SMOKE.

I honest-to-God fear the coming ordeal. I have never quit smoking for more than half-a-day, and I only tried to quit twice in my life. I guess I'll buy a Jumbo-Pak of nicotine patches and gum and candy and whatever, but I know I'll suffer.

But I'm so desperate to get off oxy's that I'm gonna go through with it, And it's possible that the pump will allow me to be more active; whenever I do anything right now, I feel the pain begin within a moment or up to half and hour, depending on what I do (I can sit upright for about 30 minutes before pain starts increasing).

If the pump can prevent the pain from starting, I might be able to drive again. I wouldn't think of driving now because of the oxy's, but even riding fully reclined starts really hurting within an hour. Being able to sit and drive again would take me out of this 24/7 chair...out of this room, which is larger and nicer, than any prison cell (and equipped with the electronic goodies I'm allowed to touch)

So I'm putting a lot of hope on this intra-thecal pump. I know that much of this hope is probably unrealistic, but I thrive on unrealistic hopes. Not false hopes. False hopes are fantasizing about how your gonna spend the Powerball Jackpot without paying the admission fee. I pay my dues every month; and that $10.00 buys me countless hours with homes, cars, and houseboats.

The pump could do everything I hope it will. It has done it for others -- but not everyone. So I'll do the praying about that, and to those inclined to pray for me; pray I will survive the Hell of nocotine withdrawal...Vic