Digital Frontiers.

It is an exciting day for me. I wanted to share two important pieces of news.

First, I have been published again on The Mighty.com. I have continued to try and be a voice for the community. It has been posted for only a day now and I already love the  response that is coming out. I have had someone ask to be kept posted on finding a new doctor. I have been humbled by how much other people care. I would love to share this blog and my writing to the world. Here is a link to the article.

When You Have to Fight to Get Your Pain Medication

Second, I have renewed my domain name for the blog. Anniversaries are important. These milestones are road-markers and reminders for us about how far we have made it. It is these points that show us that we made it another pass around the sun. May it be for better or worse, we have survived and in doing so we have shown the world that, while we may go through such hardships in life, we are still going, no matter what tries to hold us down. I love and thank you all for the wonderful support you have shown me this past year and before. I can never thank you enough. I will try and be a voice in the dark, help for the helpless, and your continued advocate and supporter of you as a person.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

Here is to next year.

#hugapony my friends

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Still fighting.

I am so tired of fighting. I fight my body each and every day. I fight to get out of bed. I fight to take my pills. I fight to get the energy to even move off the couch. I spend so much energy on just making it through the day. Now, I have even more to fight.

The opioid crisis.

I have been on my medication for over three years now. I have been steadily dropping the dose in order to not raise so much attention as to how much medication I take. This helps prevent the pharmacy techs not look at me with quite the judgmental eyes. I am on a third of what my medication should be. I do this at the cost of my own personal comfort. I trade my comfort and ability to be somewhat normal so I don’t have to be judged on what medication I have to take and how much.

I am entered on databases. I have to sign a controlled substance sheet now to document how much I have. I have to have my drivers licence scanned and copied. I am monitored on my usage. It reached a new level today.

I found out my doctor is retiring in a few weeks. It is always hard finding a good doctor. Someone who believes you and still finds ways to motivate you.  Someone who cares and wants to help your well being. This is not a great time for me.

I called to get my last set of medication from my doctor. I am trying to prepare for my search for a new doctor. I call in to the pharmacy and request a refill. They deny me saying I need to call my doctor to get approval. I call my doctor and they fax everything over. Call back to the pharmacy and they say that they don’t have any paperwork. I ask them to check again and give them the exact name and dosage of the medication. They then say it has been denied by my insurance. I tell my information again and that if need be, I’ll pay for the medication out of my own pocket. They then say I have been flagged for to much medication and that I need to use what I have left.

I have two pills.

I inform them again that my doctor is retiring, I have only two pills left of the main medication (an opioid based med), I will pay for it if my insurance won’t, that he faxed the information yesterday at 4 pm, and what should I do in time being without my medication. The pharmacy tech informs me that I have been denied and flagged by a government system that says I am receiving too much medication but that he will resubmit my information again to see if he can “push it through.”

It goes through.

My medication will be filled and waiting for me later this afternoon. My fears of what waits for me next time I need to get a refill are very real. I fight so much to just exist in a a relatively pain-reduced (I am never pain-free) world. Why must I fight bad doctors, bad pharmacies, and now the government tracking me?

I am so tired, and it is not the just the fibromyalgia and chronic fatigue syndrome.

I just want to get the help I need. I just want people to believe me. I am almost to the point of begging for help at times because people don’t seem to care. I wish I could explain it better. I wish I didn’t have to fight. Hell, I wish I didn’t have this chronic illness and had to take medication with the wonderful side effects. I already have such a love/hate relationship with having to take it, why must it be made worse with fighting to even receive it?

This is my story. This is my life.

Still fighting.

Its probably going to be on my tombstone.

#hugapony my friends.

The Month of Love

January was a rough month for me and mine. Between rounds of passing both versions of the flu around the house since December and trying to recover from the holiday break, I am exhausted. We are now in the second month of the year and romantic minds turn to love (along with most retail businesses who have had hearts up since New Years).

Last year I wrote every day for a full month on the importance of self care. I gave many examples of actions to take to show that YOU are special. To show someone very special they are important to you. Yourself. Learn to love and take care of yourself. I am sharing a link to the whole month for everyone. How many of these did you do? I would love to hear from anyone about how these worked for you.

The Self-care month.

Whenever I talk about how special people are and how much they are loved, I always remember Mr. Rogers. One of my very few heroes I look up too. This kind and gentle man showed everyone they were special.  He told the viewer every time on his show that they were special just the way they were. He told them he loved them. He had a genuine care for other humans. The impact of his life was felt by so many, myself included.

Looking around in the world today, we need more people to see the love and share the love. We need to tell more people we love them. We need more people to be told they are special.

I will gladly start.

If you are reading this, I want you to know that I love you. You are in this world and are a part of my life. This may be a one-sided conversation at the moment, but I want you to know that you are special to me. By being here, reading this, you have brought joy to my life. If we have known each other all my life, or we have never met, know that I think you are special, just the way you are.

Love yourself, and know I love you too, and now you have two people on your side. Go out and share that love. Show everyone the world is a better place with you in it.

Hug a plushie my friends.

My Opinion.

I have had a rough start to the year. The whole family has been down with the flu, much like the rest of the nation. We have been recovering and seem to be on the mend. There have been some interesting developments on the writing front I wanted to share with everyone.

I wrote my opinion on a recent The Mighty article, something I rarely share. They asked what it meant when someone with fibromyalgia says when they say “I’m tired.” I decided to share my personal experiences and it got put in the article which you can read here.

22 Things People With Fibromyalgia Really Mean When They Say ‘I’m Tired’

I then saw a few more articles asking people’s opinions on a few other topics but I felt I had said enough.

I was wrong.

I was emailed twice asking to comment on two different subjects. The first was about a new opioid drug research and what I had thought about it. I was flattered and agreed to share. I was then asked to share a photo of what a symptom of my illness looks like. I was hesitant to share but with being asked I felt obliged to answer. Both links are below.

Scientists Say They’re a Step Closer to Creating a ‘Non-Addictive’ Opioid

32 Photos That Reveal the Different Ways Fibromyalgia Can Present Itself

It has been an interesting month and I have been proud of myself and all of you! Thank you all for supporting me on this and reading. I know that today there was a HUGE influx of readers from the UK and I wanted to give a shout out to you all (or ya’ll as we say in the southern USA)! I wanted to let everyone know about my donation button where you can donate through PayPal. It has been a great start to the year and once again thank you all from the bottom of my heart.

#hugapony everyone!

This years end.

This is my final post of 2017. I sit and right this in a daze as I am extremely sick and have no energy to do much of anything. I wanted to post something to wrap this year up.

Acts of kindness amaze me. I always say I am very blessed when given the chance to show one. I had the opportunity to do one today.

I have been bedridden with a sinus infection/flu that has been absolutely horrific. My pain levels have not been this bad since my kidney stone. The full body aches on top of my full body aches and a fever that almost made me rush to the hospital have made my last week of 2017 less than stellar.

Enter an email that I received saying I had been given $200 on my PayPal account. I tried to sit up and take notice and was thoroughly confused and delighted. I have had my donation button on my blog for quite some time now and I was overjoyed to see money on that account. I was just about to inform my wife when I get an email from the this wonderful person who was supporting me. I start reading and see that I was given the money by mistake and that she had messed up and if I would please send it back.

My first thought was that this was a scam. I double checked my PayPal account and saw that the money had cleared and was firmly in my name. I checked that it was from a legitimate source and it was. I was doing a few more checks when I received a phone call. It was this same person asking, pleading with me to do the right thing a return the money.

It wasn’t until that moment that I realized that I never once thought of keeping the money for myself.

I have tried to be an kind man. I try my best to be honorable. I have been known to be honest to the extreme. When I was 6, I once received 2 bottles of Gatorade from a vending machine at a Walmart and turned one into the service desk because I didn’t feel right to keep it as I didn’t pay for it.

I pulled myself to my computer and managed to refund the money. Most of the time we have to go out of our way to perform acts of kindness. Sometimes acts of kindness are thrown at us. I end this year with one such an act. May much more kindness be had in 2018.

#hugapony my friends.

Pain invades my sleep.

It has been a bad couple of weeks. Pain has been a constant reminder of my condition. An aggravating and hard reminder. One that reminds me that, yes, I am sick. A reminder I wish I could forget.

Waking up in pain makes me never forget. You lay in bed feeling like a major test in school is waiting for you, that you just worked out so hard your body is screaming, and if you even tried to roll out of bed and hit the floor, you would not feel it as your are at your pain level cap. I hurry to get pills in me and have them start working as soon as possible. A baby waits to be taken care of and I am responsible for this 7 month old bundle of joy and energy. I have to get going as soon as she wakes up.

Coffee is my nectar of the gods very morning.

Pain is also available in the evening, free of charge. I hurt in the hours leading up to the time when I can lay down to not sleeping. My body does not relax and is tight from being in pain all day. Insomnia sets in for a few hours. I used to be able to fall asleep in under a minute. I trained myself in college to fall asleep fast as I had 3 noisy roommates. Those days are gone now.

And now pain invades my dreams.

I had a dream last night. Dreams are a rare occurrence. Most nights I can’t fall into REM sleep. This night I was given a very strange view of my life. In this dream, I was hooked to a morphine pump for my pain and told to press the button as often as I needed it. As soon as I felt the pain, I would hit the button. Every 5 minutes I would press it. Over and over again. The pain never left me. It was dulled for about 30 seconds. Then it came back. For what seemed like hours I tried to fight off this pain. It never went away.

I woke to my usual pain and I grew afraid. Was this my life? Was this my fate and destiny to be chained to drugs? This is what drives people to depression. This is what causes anxiety. To be under constant bombardment and never getting a moments peace.

On common theme I see in my fellow pain warriors is when we do get a low pain day, we over-do it. We push ourselves and celebrate. We try so hard to live a normal life, even for a day. To get that day of relief is a blessing. It keeps us sane for when the next comes crashing down. It keeps us going.

I fully understand my need for help. I understand my need for medicine and how it helps me. I know some days, most days I would not be able to get out of bed without this help. This blessing and curse.

And my constant pain reminder that follows me.

#hugapony my friends

Pleasant Company.

Over the past few weeks I have been introduced to many people who suffer from chronic illnesses and disabilities. Some online through blog posts, some through video games, and others in real life. I have gotten to talk and help quite a few people who are suffering. I have seen people in so much worse situations and see them powering through with a strength that makes me ashamed of myself.

In my opinion, everyone who suffers like this goes through a period of time when they question themselves on how much suffering they go through. I have been hit hard this last week. I have question how bad am I, what level pain should I admit too, and what right do I have to suffer in all my suffering. One of my issues with invisible illnesses is that I am in constant stress over being judged on how I look. “You don’t look sick” “Are you sure you aren’t feeling well” “It can’t be that bad if you are still able to walk around your house” Words ring in my ears and brain, reminding me that it must all be in my head. Famous words for anyone suffering from fibromyalgia as most doctors are quick to through them out.

I have had personal events happen that reinforce this. I have been denied disability. I submitted to the 8 month long process that took place and have seen more doctors and nurse than I care to admit. Being weighed and measured, poked and prodded has been an absolute nightmare. I suffered through it and in the end I was deemed too fit to be on disability. In the end letter, it was determined that I did suffer from fibromyalgia, insomnia, anxiety disorder, nerve pain, muscle pain and more. A total of 9 severe problems with my health. They did not find these severe enough to warrant me disabled. My final icing on the cake was reading on of the last lines in my letter saying: “If your job is too difficult for your condition, find an easier job.” My mind’s sarcastic response was “Sure I’ll go to the job tree and pick a new job straight off the branch.”

I have also had to fight with new insurance and new medications. I have been prescribed Lyrica. This is the first drug that I have seen that is specifically made for fibromyalgia sufferers. Being new, it is expensive. The classification it has been giving by insurance is that unless every other test and drug has been used and found not to work, then they will not pay for it. Fighting to get help is one of the most common themes I see in chronic illness patients. As if we didn’t suffer enough.

In my recent post that has been published, I have been able to interact with many people that have a myriad of different conditions. I have wept over reading the stories of those who have suffered. I have talked and comforted those who asked. I have been praised for helping raise our voice so others can see. In all of this, I look back at myself and ask “Am I really that sick?” Do I have the right to be a voice if I am not suffering as much as those around me. I am constantly questioned on how bad my pain and condition is that I am beginning to question myself. Yes, I have pain but is it bad enough.

I read an article recently that brought it to light for me. Erin from The Mighty.com posted on how Doctors are Advocating on Pain Acceptance. Doctors are now looking into “pain acceptance” as a treatment philosophy. It is an eye opening to see the direction this is going. As someone who suffers, I find it interesting to see that not believing chronic pain sufferers is a new direction to go. To be told that we should learn to live with the pain is insulting. To be told that my opinion, the patient’s opinion is not considered and the doctor’s view of my pain and condition makes me all the more fearful of doctors who don’t listen. Being told that I should just accept and live in pain, which is something I do every day, makes my and so many other voices sound like we are complainers.

It is infuriating.

If anything I have seen over these past few weeks is how many there are of us. It has shown me that we need a voice. It has shown that I matter. It has shown me more kind and compassionate people who, suffering like me, agree that we are not being heard. We have to fight our illness. We have to fight for our diagnosis. We have to sometimes fight our doctors and pharmacies and lawmakers. We have to fight to make our voices heard.

Thank you all for the pleasant company.

#hugapony my friends.

That Next Big Thing.

I am going to take a moment and something amazing. My article has struck a chord and resonated with many people. It has now been published at TheMighty.com, three of their Facebook pages, 3 (!) more news pages, and has been put on twitter with a large Spoonie group. I have to share the links cause it is so amazing.
 
 
The word is spreading. It is incredibly humbling to share with so many amazing people. I am honored to be one to speak out. Let us keep the momentum going.
 
I love you all.
 
#hugapony.

World War me.

I am recovering from my last convention and am trying to regain lost rest and sleep. I want to thank everyone who came out to visit and I plan on special post for all of you. I am humbled and honored by the response that was given. It meant as much to me as to you.

I have been diagnosed Fibromyalgia, panic disorder, insomnia, and quite a few other conditions for 5 years now. I have experienced a lot and have struggled to find the help I need to make it through my day to day routine much less when life throws me curve balls. I have tried and put into place all manner of methods of managing my conditions. I have changed diet, put in a modified exercise regiment, and adjusted my life to fit my condition.

I also take prescribed opioids.

News outlets have been reporting on the “Opioid Crisis” that has arisen. They talk about the real effects on people’s lives. They talk about the families being torn apart with the misuse of the drug. They are representing every side of the issue.

Except mine.

I, like many other chronic illness sufferers, rely on the use of these drugs to lead somewhat regular lives. Understandably we do not represent all responsible opioid use. However, we do regularly get added to the group of opioid abusers. The news loves to report the numbers of total users or the max number of prescribed people in US. Using these numbers all kinds of data can be thrown around as to the approximate number of abusers. I am not ignoring the rising numbers of opioid related deaths, I fear that too many people are caught up in the panic and it is hurting the people who need the help.

I have recently changed pharmacies due to the national response. CVS has come out to say that they will not prescribe more than a weeks worth of an opioid to cut down on the number of pills in the public. This hurts in several ways. I now have more co-pays to look forward to paying. I now have the stress of going to the pharmacy once a week instead of once a month. I get to be faced with the pharmacy techs who judge me on my condition. They have to evaluate what I take, how many I take, and how often I take it to ensure that I am doing everything correctly.

It can be humiliating and debilitating.

It can also lead to them to refusing to fill a medication. When I was first being diagnosed, I had a tech tell me I couldn’t have any more medication, even though I was taking them as prescribed (Post is here “Anxiety now?“). I have also been through the panic of not being able to see the doctor in time or canceling my appointment so I end up running out before I can get the help I need (Oh Day of days). It is so tight now, my new doctor has a new form that I had to fill out saying I have to bring all my meds into the office each visit and be subjected to random pill count checks.

To quote a friend, “This is victim shaming.”

“We are not getting the prescribed medications from our dealer or a junkie. We getting these medications from a licensed doctor who has examined, poked, prodded, and run tests to find out what can help. We are not using these pills for recreational use. We are using them so we can get out of bed and live a somewhat normal and have a job.”

This is a crisis. My crisis. My own personal war inside me. I have to fight to get help. I have to fight to get time to go to the doctor each time. Taking off work to go see a doctor takes a lot of time and most jobs are not forgiving. I have to look at what I have and ration. I have several medications that are “As needed”. Do I take them now when I am having a rough day or do I save it in case I have a worse day? Why do I have to choose?  Who is speaking for me? For us?

I am only one small voice on a small platform.

I am speaking up.

Don’t forget us in the crisis.

#hugaplushie my friends.