I never saw the stone pass, but Sunday night, I woke in the middle of the night feeling the need for a gigantic pee. Stumbled to the bathroom and was in the middle of a very sweet relief when it suddenly dawned on me that I was not hurting.
Until this night, if I woke up at 3am, it was because the narcotics had worn off and I was in so much pain, I couldn't bear to breathe, much less lie there. It was all I could do to swallow more pills and beg God for mercy.
In fact, the night before, I was starting to panic because I knew I only had enough pills to last about a half more day. The prescription was helpful, but far from adequate. How much longer could this go on? What was it? Five days now in absolute torment?
But to suddenly, out of the fog of sleep, standing there in front of the toilet, remember that I had been in pain in what seemed like an eternity, it dawned on me that I was no longer hurting.
I wanted to dance, fly, crash through walls and celebrate!!
I went back to bed, cautiously optimistic.
The next morning, I felt fine for the most part, but there was residual pain in my back. I told myself it was probably soreness from all the trauma of the past five days. So, rather than the narcs, I took a few Motrin PM and laid down for most of the day, after a horrible morning of nausea and dry heaves -- no doubt, by body throwing off the narcotics.
However, that night, Jim was singing at a big event (which I will detail in another post) which I did not want to miss. So, I swallowed and few more Motrin and joined him.
Physically, I was still hurting a bit -- but what a difference between "hurting" and "agony" -- so I took it easy, enjoyed myself, felt so proud of Jim, and was happy I went. But I was tired. So very tired.
Tuesday, the pain was now completely gone. No Motrins. But I was weak. When I held my hand up, it shook like a leaf in the breeze. So, I stayed still and assured Jim that I would be okay, even though he was taking off for Massachusetts to perform Zero Hour for the next three weeks.
This morning, I feel weak, but gaining strength. Jake came over and helped me shop. Since he is our apartment sitter and works nearby, he can look in on me whenever I need something. I also have a ton of other friends who've all volunteered in case I need something.
But to go a full day without pain -- and without pain pills -- is the greatest gift of all.
So, thanks to you, dear reader, for abiding with me during this. I will try to update more often. If you're on Facebook, you'll get more up to the minute news. But, man, what a traumatic, horrible experience this has been. And for a guy who takes a ton of drugs just to stay alive, I HATE pain killers, and I especially HATE narcotics.
Now I can go back to my nice, normal routine of trying to fight off AIDS and getting my blood sugar back to normal.
And writing music! (I have more news about that, too).
Until this night, if I woke up at 3am, it was because the narcotics had worn off and I was in so much pain, I couldn't bear to breathe, much less lie there. It was all I could do to swallow more pills and beg God for mercy.
In fact, the night before, I was starting to panic because I knew I only had enough pills to last about a half more day. The prescription was helpful, but far from adequate. How much longer could this go on? What was it? Five days now in absolute torment?
But to suddenly, out of the fog of sleep, standing there in front of the toilet, remember that I had been in pain in what seemed like an eternity, it dawned on me that I was no longer hurting.
I wanted to dance, fly, crash through walls and celebrate!!
I went back to bed, cautiously optimistic.
The next morning, I felt fine for the most part, but there was residual pain in my back. I told myself it was probably soreness from all the trauma of the past five days. So, rather than the narcs, I took a few Motrin PM and laid down for most of the day, after a horrible morning of nausea and dry heaves -- no doubt, by body throwing off the narcotics.
However, that night, Jim was singing at a big event (which I will detail in another post) which I did not want to miss. So, I swallowed and few more Motrin and joined him.
Physically, I was still hurting a bit -- but what a difference between "hurting" and "agony" -- so I took it easy, enjoyed myself, felt so proud of Jim, and was happy I went. But I was tired. So very tired.
Tuesday, the pain was now completely gone. No Motrins. But I was weak. When I held my hand up, it shook like a leaf in the breeze. So, I stayed still and assured Jim that I would be okay, even though he was taking off for Massachusetts to perform Zero Hour for the next three weeks.
This morning, I feel weak, but gaining strength. Jake came over and helped me shop. Since he is our apartment sitter and works nearby, he can look in on me whenever I need something. I also have a ton of other friends who've all volunteered in case I need something.
But to go a full day without pain -- and without pain pills -- is the greatest gift of all.
So, thanks to you, dear reader, for abiding with me during this. I will try to update more often. If you're on Facebook, you'll get more up to the minute news. But, man, what a traumatic, horrible experience this has been. And for a guy who takes a ton of drugs just to stay alive, I HATE pain killers, and I especially HATE narcotics.
Now I can go back to my nice, normal routine of trying to fight off AIDS and getting my blood sugar back to normal.
And writing music! (I have more news about that, too).
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