Yesterday, Grant took me for a drive, in the hope of seeing something that would lift me out of the funk.
See Blackie there? I feel like that, only a lot less relaxed.
From what I can gather I have PAWS.
Well yes, 11 sets of them, but that’s not what I mean.
Post Acute Withdrawal Syndrome.
Like everything, these days, it’s controversial.
And it’s probably boring to read about.
But in the event someone might benefit from my experience, I’ll tell you anyway.
From 5mg of oxycodone 5 times daily, over the past 3 months, I have weaned down to 2.5mg 3 times daily.
At first I began to have very unpleasant physical symptoms, such as tremendous agitation, just way too much feeling in my body. As if every nerve ending was raw.
Crying and extreme irritability.
Here’s the thing: I have another of those nasty little drugs in my medicine cabinet, which so far my doctor has not totally forbidden. Ativan. I am allowed 0.5mg of that, up to 3 times a day. Without it, life would have been really hard recently.
But it also is addictive. Previous doctors had allowed me way higher doses of the stuff, to help me sleep, to keep me calm.
Why did I allow it?
Probably because sometimes life was such a pain in the ass.
And if a professional person recommends medication that will help, why refuse?
Maybe that’s always been my weakness, my willingness to try anything that will take the sting out. Anything legal, I would like to point out. I didn’t do this to myself.
My mother suffered from various sorts of pain and as a child, I remember her having a tube of pills on the coffee table. Was I influenced? Just another excuse?
What’s done is done. 3 months down the line, the physical effects of withdrawing seem less, but now emotion rears it’s ugly head, big time.
This, it seems, can continue, off and on for a year.
Grant may consider alternate lodging before that.
The harder he tries to cheer me up, it seems, the more irritated I become. 1.5 mg of Ativan doesn’t stretch very far and at the end of all this, I need to be able to get off that.
The only advice I can offer is
Don’t let them put you on OXYCODONE!
Don’t go near the stuff.
With so much doom and gloom around everywhere, I prefer my blog to be cheerful and it’s been a stretch lately, but here is a small happy thought to end:
When we were down in my field the other day, viewing the proposed new location for my little maple tree, we discovered to our delight numerous infant pine trees.
They are barely knee-high, but it’s nice to imagine how the hill will one day look, forested, and to picture the small creatures that will make their homes there.