22 spasms and a bottle of morphine

Yesterday was the most terrible day. 

Having hobbled around a little bit the day before yesterday there was no moving at all-a backward step if you’ll pardon the pun.

I rang my oncologist’s secretary (whom I have a sort of telephone relationship with now) asking if I could admit myself due to the terrible pain I was in. Mid-conversation I was obviously getting a bit anxious and my back went in to spasm so I ended up crying and screaming and had to pass the phone to my dad. 

  

Apparently I can’t admit myself to a cancer hospital I could only call AandE which I did. They asked me to come in and I tried, believe me I really tried, but I just couldn’t move. 

In the end my GP whom I actively dislike since my family doctor of 30plus years retired, came to see me at home. He wanted to examine my legs but it was impossible as I was in a terrible position hanging out of the bed. I just kept saying ‘Don’t touch me I just want pain relief.’ In a begging non-agressive tone.

He did seem quite sympathetic so I guess I don’t actively dislike him anymore. Perhaps he does care about his patients a little bit. Anyway he gave me oral morphine which is wonderful stuff but doesn’t stop the spasms just the frequency and intensity.

Yesterday my back seized up 22 times. I wanted to die. It’s been 6 days I’ve not been out of the house I’ve not washed or brushed my hair.  

I started thinking about what I’d do if I had nobody.  I mean there must be people in chronic pain who can’t do things for themselves who have no one. I’m so lucky that i have people to look after me. Even though whatever this is is really shit, I’m loved and looked after and that’s worth being happy about isn’t it?

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