I know there's no crying in baseball but occasionally there IS crying in the life of a pain person. This morning and now into early afternoon, I am beyond tolerating the customary daily frustration that accompanies my lumbar pain. I stay within the limit of allotted pain medication rather strictly. I am not a person who finds himself requesting 'early refills' on an opiate Rx.
As a retired pharmacist, I have years and years of that kind of situation, and I can assure the pain reader that there are countless jerkoffs, jerks, assholes, mean people, prescription police, 'fraidy cats, gossipers, nosy busybodies, and a myriad of workers in pharmacies and medical offices who derive some sort of self-gratification with finding a suspected 'red flag' in the course of receiving & processing a refill request for a controlled substance.
Since this is my life with controlled substances inhabiting a small portion of it, but medications occupy a most critical component of my days and nights, I always aim to use less than the total quantity dispensed divided by the # of tablets allotted per day by the prescriber, yielding the quotient that is the 'days supply.'
The sadness dominated late this morning when my medication routine was ineffective in quenching or mitigating the burn of the deep persistent nerve pain which plays the role of my daily antagonist, forestalling my ability to live a normal healthy life in my retirement years.
Is weeping in pain crying? When one's eyes drip tears unintentionally without concomitant noises such as sobs or wails, is that crying? Was I crying for two hours this early afternoon before I went over my daily dosage of medicine to 'get the pain to stop?'
Maybe you have had this experience. It's not something that one can convey to the provider because the arena of prescribing is packed with doubt and disbelief. You would fight a losing battle.
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