By this morning, the narcotics had cleared my system, and my pain was unlivable. The thought that no one understands that the pain is the issue- the single, all-encompassing issue in my life- drove me into an enraged panicky mess that, OK, did a good impression of crazy.
Bu came home after a teary call from your perfectly appropriately freaked and hurting blogger, and took me to Med Express. (Because I am not seeing that non-listening PCP ever, ever again.) The lovely people at ME made me feel like a junkie. I had to give a urine sample. I limped out with enough pain meds for six days if I am very judicious, and a note that I am not to return there for pain; must see my PCP. My new PCP appointment is scheduled a lot more than six days from now.
I had a call from the old/current PCP with a referral to a poorly rated doctor at that shit hospital that killed my mom. I called back and asked very politely for a referral to a friend-recommended neurologist who also specializes in pain management.
I am now comfortable if I lie flat, and am deliberately keeping my thoughts centered on today only.
So. We are pretending it's Tuesday, yeah? Let's make with the treasures!!! Today we have a rainbow crochet cap from my shop and a sparkly hot pink scarf hand made by my darling neighbor K.
There: snuggly, colorful fashion cures all ills.
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