Hi, ger715:

Quote: "When I had my Rectocele surgery, I made sure my Pain Specialist (who is with the same hospital) was to take care of my medication after surgery."

Unfortunately, there is no qualified pain management specialist in my area. My primary care physician takes care of my chronic pain management, but I am not sure at all that he would accept to take care of my post-operative pain management. Whenever the hospital's nurses see me with the morphine capsules prescribed by my primary care physician for my RSD breakthrough pain control, they either call the shrink or seize my medications. The next time, I will call the cops for theft.

I will remember for the rest of my life what one of the young female nurses did to me. One time, I was in sooo much pain in my bed (I was crying and writhing on my bed, with my two-year-old baby boy looking at me wide eyed) that I called a nurse to help me by pressing on the button. Of course, it was that young female nurse that came. She bit my head off first and then she treated me as if my pain was in my mind. When she left, I left my bed with my walker and IV pole and bags to go to the ER one level below (I took the elevators). I asked for help there. Then guess what?!?! That same young female nurse came down and dragged me back to my hospital room. Then she called the shrink (as if my pain was in my mind). I must admit I felt a LOT of pleasure when I kicked the shrink out of my hospital room. I will also admit I HATE shrinks! I was in sooo much pain that I was getting ready to AWOL.

Quote: "It's being given the normal dose of after surgery pain med that is not sufficient for a person that has already become dependent on much higher narcotics."

This is one of the things I am worried about. Even if the anesthesiologists know what dosage of narcotic painkillers we take, it seems like we will not receive a dosage adapted to our tolerance for narcotics. Of course, not all anesthesiologists are like that, but a lot are.

I am glad you got the pain relief you deserve through the help of your son and daughter. Unfortunately, my son, who is only two-years old, cannot do anything for me. My parents treat me like a druggie, so no help to hope for from that side. I guess I will just have to hide some narcotic painkillers (fentanyl patches and MSIR capsules) in a locked box hidden under my pillow, which I would take with me to the bathroom when I have to pee.

This surgery is really a NIGHTMARE! It is starting to give me a big headache again! Last night, at home, I woke up screaming after the same nightmare: seeing blood splattered on the floor, walls, and ceiling of the operating room. What is that nightmare supposed to mean? Fear! Fear! Fear!

Thanks for your information.