74. Medication

My body knows how to heal. The pain medication can be a friend, and then become a foe. It’s important that I watch for the moment. Then thank it, and let it go.

Today I started scatter scheduling my Tylenol.  I really do need to figure out what “control your pain” means, but then again, I don’t plan to continue playing the pain game.  If possible.  If divinely allowed.

I can take a narcotic.  I just don’t.  I haven’t seen a narcotic pill do anything for me.  It doesn’t mean there is not some mental or physical reaction.  I haven’t taken enough of them in my home life to even know.  Three pills, four pills, altogether, something like that.  And no noticeable change with those.  But there is no science in four pills.

I have been maxing out the Tylenol.  This morning, I went to one 650 mg, from two.  It’s not that I am intentionally dropping down from 1300 mg every eight hours, but that I am going to start an overlap.  When I did the last four hours with only half, I can take the second pill now.  It will span eight hours.  If pain rises, I can always take the second, but the intention is go four hours or more, and keep that cycle.  

It takes away the rise and fall of relief.  And if it is like last time, it also is the beginning of the end of medication.  The second pills spreads the time, meaning I will often be taking it only an hour from being uncovered.  And then I will bring the dosage down.  And finally, I will let it go.  When it’s time.  No rush.  No guilt.  

My body knows how to heal.  The pain medication can be a friend, and then become a foe.  It’s important that I watch for the moment.  Then thank it, and let it go.

66. Pain Interpretation

Do you know what hurts most? Medical tape. Ripping off the tape. Swear words spoken in every language stream across consciousness when the tape comes off.

The system in the body that interprets pain is insane, crazy, and just makes no sense.  I don’t have human control.  Jack Schwarz had human control.  He could stop the bleeding.  Control the pain.  On television, they drove a sail needle (like a thick nail) through his flesh.  Not a flinch, not a drop of blood.

My receptors are off their rockers, dancing with the Minnions, way past Looney Tunes.  If I was doing another half century on this ride, I might explore more. You can do it for me.  You can have the skills that Jack had.  They are inside the Universal capability.

For me, I will observe.  Do you know what hurts most?  Medical tape.  Ripping off the tape.  Swear words spoken in every language stream across consciousness when the tape comes off.  

Adhesive blisters.  I have a couple of blisters that formed under the tape around my port.  The port is that Borg device under the skin on my chest.  When I stepped in the door, home for the first time, they burned and throbbed.  What about the four inch zipper in my lower abdomen?  Nothing.

Blood draws and IV placement in the back of the hands.  The worst.  And my hands hold memory.  They will complain for months.  They were still nagging about the last time in the hospital.  Sharing their memories.  Causing echo pain.  And today the new bruises span from middle finger to pinkie, purple and sad.  Sigh.  There will be a lot of apologies and discussions with the hands.  For the record, I did ask to protect them.  I did try.

And the new colon opening in my upper left?  Quiet.