Sorry for the delay in updating my information. I've been fairly laid up and unable to do much, and when I was able to do something I did it with my family and then spent a few days paying for it.
With that said...
Friday's appointment with my primary care was a joke. We arrived early in the morning for my fasting blood draw, which went fine, and then patiently waited for my appointment. The Pain Clinic was supposed to have put in directions and recommendations for all of my new medications so my primary care could fill them, but, go figure, when it came time for him to put in the prescriptions he couldn't do a single one. There was also a recommendation in the system for me to stay on Fentanyl and utilize oxycodone to control break through pain. The only thing that was correct was the request for the new muscle relaxers...
Up I went to the pain clinic to find out what had happened to our plan. The pain fellow, a very snobbish, young, indian woman told me that everything I had heard was wrong. That there wasn't a decision to move to a new narcotic, and that the primary care could put the prescription in for cymbalta. Now, I had just come from the primary care who showed me that it wasn't within his computer options to place the order. Her comment was that he didn't want to...
This is also the little tart who claims to have only talked to me once on the phone, and then changes her tone to two phone conversations. She doesn't chart properly. Because of her negligence in changing the dosage of my venlafaxin I ran out. I was even told by the pharmacy that this was a terrible mistake on her part. She still claims that it's not proper to change the dosages while titrating up...
This woman has made so many claims that have been false. It's nauseating to even deal with her. I honestly can't wait for her to be replaces by the next individual. Hopefully they'll have a better grasp on proper treatment and correct procedures.
So I'm waiting for my cymbalta to be approved. They aren't going to move me over to methadone until after the cymbalta is in play, and I'm on a new muscle relaxer. I'll update my medications page with the correct information.
On a side note, I'm now on Synthroid. It seems that my Thyroid isn't working properly anymore. Since there's no family history it would seem that this is due to the medications. This aught to be a magnificent battle to get the doctor's to admit it, because until I do, I will be paying out of pocket for the medications.
Tomorrow is my hearing for SSDI. I'm terribly nerve racked about the whole ordeal. Amy is getting a wheelchair from her work for me so that I can get around a bit easier, and I've been told that there will be a location within the court room for me to be prone and keep my leg up. The attorneys seem to be very excited about the case, and very confident, so I'm going to do my best to trust in them and try and relax...
I'll have more updates tomorrow evening after the ordeal, if I'm not incapacitated...
Showing posts with label Medicating RSD. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Medicating RSD. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Hurry Up and Wait
Ah, the old axiom of the Marines, 'Hurry up and wait...'
As I had previously shared, I've been told to utilize new medications. I haven't started the new regimen yet because they need to be prescribed by my Primary Care. I won't see him until next Friday. In the mean time I'm expected to continue with current medications.
The real exacerbation is the amount of money wasted on these older drugs.
Rather than simply send me partial fills they've sent me full month supplies of all of my old medications. This means I'll have near three weeks worth of medications to throw away. What a waste.
This week I'm going to try and adhere to a schedule to see if this helps mitigate my symptoms and boost my productivity. My current approach doesn't seem to be helping any, may as well try something different.
So I'm scheduled to awake at 8 in the morning (this morning I actually woke at 7:30), and have scheduled time frames for different works. I hope this gives me the chance to take a little more control back...
We received a letter in the mail, from my attorney, with a few attachments. The first attatchment was a request of acknowledgement in regards to the date, time, and location of the hearing. I had signed and sent in this same form several weeks ago when it was sent to me directly. The second was a request for all my current medications. This information is all in my medical documentation which they are supposed to have a full copy of. The VA even prints a medications page, which lists all medications prescribed over the service members life time. The last attachment was a request for a work history. Now, when I filed the initial claim I did a detailed work history, and for my appeal I did another detailed work history, what the hell do they need a third one for? What a complete waste of time.
The letter itself actually asks me to bring any pay stubs from work I had done during the course of my disability. Amy freaked. She felt this was a mark of ignorance on the attorney's part. I'm starting to wonder myself now. I had explained that it was probably a simple form letter they send to every client. Perhaps I should give them a ring on Monday, if I remember...
The Chicago VA medical center finally got me in for the scan of my back that was requested by the compensation and benefits doctor. My case has been held up for three weeks because of their inability to pick up the phone and give me a call back to schedule the appointment. I finally called the advocate and explained that this was exactly why I have all my treatment done in Milwaukee. I doubt they'll find anything. More than likely I'll get a phone call from the doctor asking me what is in my back, despite the fact we explained to him that I had an implant. I'll let you all know if that's the case so we can all enjoy a good laugh.
Thank you all for taking the time to read my thoughts,
K.M. Shear
As I had previously shared, I've been told to utilize new medications. I haven't started the new regimen yet because they need to be prescribed by my Primary Care. I won't see him until next Friday. In the mean time I'm expected to continue with current medications.
The real exacerbation is the amount of money wasted on these older drugs.
Rather than simply send me partial fills they've sent me full month supplies of all of my old medications. This means I'll have near three weeks worth of medications to throw away. What a waste.
This week I'm going to try and adhere to a schedule to see if this helps mitigate my symptoms and boost my productivity. My current approach doesn't seem to be helping any, may as well try something different.
So I'm scheduled to awake at 8 in the morning (this morning I actually woke at 7:30), and have scheduled time frames for different works. I hope this gives me the chance to take a little more control back...
We received a letter in the mail, from my attorney, with a few attachments. The first attatchment was a request of acknowledgement in regards to the date, time, and location of the hearing. I had signed and sent in this same form several weeks ago when it was sent to me directly. The second was a request for all my current medications. This information is all in my medical documentation which they are supposed to have a full copy of. The VA even prints a medications page, which lists all medications prescribed over the service members life time. The last attachment was a request for a work history. Now, when I filed the initial claim I did a detailed work history, and for my appeal I did another detailed work history, what the hell do they need a third one for? What a complete waste of time.
The letter itself actually asks me to bring any pay stubs from work I had done during the course of my disability. Amy freaked. She felt this was a mark of ignorance on the attorney's part. I'm starting to wonder myself now. I had explained that it was probably a simple form letter they send to every client. Perhaps I should give them a ring on Monday, if I remember...
The Chicago VA medical center finally got me in for the scan of my back that was requested by the compensation and benefits doctor. My case has been held up for three weeks because of their inability to pick up the phone and give me a call back to schedule the appointment. I finally called the advocate and explained that this was exactly why I have all my treatment done in Milwaukee. I doubt they'll find anything. More than likely I'll get a phone call from the doctor asking me what is in my back, despite the fact we explained to him that I had an implant. I'll let you all know if that's the case so we can all enjoy a good laugh.
Thank you all for taking the time to read my thoughts,
K.M. Shear
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Medicinal Updates
My appointment with the Pain Clinic was yesterday morning. The journey to Milwaukee has left me reeling, but it was a productive one.
I'm not sure if I have discussed the difficulties I have with different modes of transportation, so I'll explore that here and get back to the medicinal updates to close this entry.
Prior to my RSD outbreak I would travel by train to Chicago on alternating weekends to take custody of my daughter for visitation. I can no longer ride a train due to the severe increase of pain caused by the seat designs, vibrations during movement, and overall roughness of the trip. My visitation has been nearly reduced to 0, and I only visit with my daughter when I am able to find vehicular transportation to Chicago, and then it is only when she has large portions of time off of school.
So trains are no longer a possible form of transportation.
My mother owns a Subaru something or other, and it's seat design is a nightmare for an individual with RSD in a lower extremity. The sides of the bottom portion of the seat have large pads that stick up roughly two inches from the bottom pad. When sitting in these seats those side cushions inevitably bump the leg and put an undue pressure upon it. This causes severe pain that can take several days to recover from.
My mother is the individual who takes me to roughly half of my appointments.
Other vehicles that don't have elevated sides to the bottom cushion are fine as long as they have a decent suspense system. If the shocks are overly stiff it causes rough jolts that severely increase my pain.
Back to medications.
The doctors are putting notes into their system requesting changes to a majority of my medications. Instead of Fentanyl, they're requesting a prescription for Methadone. Vinlafaxin (or however it is spelled) will be replaced by Cymbalta, and they're prescribing a powerful muscle relaxant for all my muscle spasms...
As the medications come in I'll update my medications page.
I have to admit that, despite the increased pain, I slept well last night with zero nightmares. Very exciting!
Thank you all for taking the time to read my thoughts.
Sincerely,
K.M. Shear
I'm not sure if I have discussed the difficulties I have with different modes of transportation, so I'll explore that here and get back to the medicinal updates to close this entry.
Prior to my RSD outbreak I would travel by train to Chicago on alternating weekends to take custody of my daughter for visitation. I can no longer ride a train due to the severe increase of pain caused by the seat designs, vibrations during movement, and overall roughness of the trip. My visitation has been nearly reduced to 0, and I only visit with my daughter when I am able to find vehicular transportation to Chicago, and then it is only when she has large portions of time off of school.
So trains are no longer a possible form of transportation.
My mother owns a Subaru something or other, and it's seat design is a nightmare for an individual with RSD in a lower extremity. The sides of the bottom portion of the seat have large pads that stick up roughly two inches from the bottom pad. When sitting in these seats those side cushions inevitably bump the leg and put an undue pressure upon it. This causes severe pain that can take several days to recover from.
My mother is the individual who takes me to roughly half of my appointments.
Other vehicles that don't have elevated sides to the bottom cushion are fine as long as they have a decent suspense system. If the shocks are overly stiff it causes rough jolts that severely increase my pain.
Back to medications.
The doctors are putting notes into their system requesting changes to a majority of my medications. Instead of Fentanyl, they're requesting a prescription for Methadone. Vinlafaxin (or however it is spelled) will be replaced by Cymbalta, and they're prescribing a powerful muscle relaxant for all my muscle spasms...
As the medications come in I'll update my medications page.
I have to admit that, despite the increased pain, I slept well last night with zero nightmares. Very exciting!
Thank you all for taking the time to read my thoughts.
Sincerely,
K.M. Shear
Friday, February 4, 2011
The Full Dose
Last night was the first time taking the full dose of my PTSD medication. I haven't seen much of a change in my dream patterns. It's interesting that I now wake up mid dream though. Last night I had a dream that my son was falling through an elevator shaft, the door had closed on my leg, and I was reaching for him desperately. I woke up flailing and in tears. The flailing doesn't seem to be helping me with my pain.
I have hopes that I'll be able to clean up a poem I began work on during my appointments last week. I wrote it in the waiting area. I hate that area. It's sterile, white, and wreaks of mental institution. I'm only mildly psychologically impaired and I felt like I had been committed; can't fathom what this would be like for an individual breaking at their psychological core. The room is complete with old fashioned television broadcasting some form of white trash project, unfinished puzzle on the single round table at the back of the room. The windows are covered with a metal mesh screen, and the men in white lab coats drift here and there collecting their next subject with the mild call of a name. You can feel the discomfort of others as they glance about wondering what form of hell they just stepped, or wheeled, into.
I set out to write a journal entry, but the only thing that came to mind was poetic in nature. I hope I can finish it and post it on my Shear's Shorts site. There's a link to the right that you can click to get to it.
My Fentanyl patches seem to want to only stick to my fore arms. I've tried to get them to hold on for their three day period in other places, but to no avail. I'm sure the appearance of the patches on my arms makes doctors question my use of them. Even when I try to explain they turn a distrusting eye in my direction. Since the appliance of the patches I haven't needed to be seen in an Emergency Room, and I think that should be a check mark in the 'win' column, but my sleep schedule is wrecked, if not non-existant, and some days I feel an unstoppable drag pulling me into sleep state while other days I can't seem to calm down.
Enough droning for one morning. I have words to craft.
My humblest appreciation to those of you still reading,
K.M. Shear
I have hopes that I'll be able to clean up a poem I began work on during my appointments last week. I wrote it in the waiting area. I hate that area. It's sterile, white, and wreaks of mental institution. I'm only mildly psychologically impaired and I felt like I had been committed; can't fathom what this would be like for an individual breaking at their psychological core. The room is complete with old fashioned television broadcasting some form of white trash project, unfinished puzzle on the single round table at the back of the room. The windows are covered with a metal mesh screen, and the men in white lab coats drift here and there collecting their next subject with the mild call of a name. You can feel the discomfort of others as they glance about wondering what form of hell they just stepped, or wheeled, into.
I set out to write a journal entry, but the only thing that came to mind was poetic in nature. I hope I can finish it and post it on my Shear's Shorts site. There's a link to the right that you can click to get to it.
My Fentanyl patches seem to want to only stick to my fore arms. I've tried to get them to hold on for their three day period in other places, but to no avail. I'm sure the appearance of the patches on my arms makes doctors question my use of them. Even when I try to explain they turn a distrusting eye in my direction. Since the appliance of the patches I haven't needed to be seen in an Emergency Room, and I think that should be a check mark in the 'win' column, but my sleep schedule is wrecked, if not non-existant, and some days I feel an unstoppable drag pulling me into sleep state while other days I can't seem to calm down.
Enough droning for one morning. I have words to craft.
My humblest appreciation to those of you still reading,
K.M. Shear
Monday, January 31, 2011
Exhaustive Progress
I would like to start by expressing my sincerest apology to all of my readers. I had never intended on letting my disability get in the way of providing detailed information and opinions to my readers' awareness. It's been several days since my last posting.
Truth be told, I've found myself very drained since my last set of medical appointments. Last Monday I was scene in Milwaukee to evaluate my nightmares, and then a full day was spent this past Thursday at the North Chicago facility for evaluations in conjunction to my claims. Progress was made, but was severely taxing on my own level of will. I've spent several days now over the last week simply unconscious; with a mind to create and write, but no will to do so. I'm not sure if it's a matter of depression, or simply my body quitting on me. I'm unsure if I'd even want to know. If it's depression I'm doomed to adding more mediations to an, already, oversized list. If it's my body unable to handle the stresses I put it through then it stands to reason that future endeavors may put me out of commission as well...
I learned that the symptoms I'm exhibiting are those of an individual with PTSD. They prescribed Prazosin to help ease the nightmares, and want to keep an eye on me to combat my other symptoms if they get overly grand. Sadly, because my trauma is ongoing, I can not be diagnosed with PTSD, but they'll be treating me as a PTSD patient... I'm not sure what kind of medical sense that makes, but that's what I've been told.
The full day of diagnostics on Thursday really took a toll. I was examined by 4 different professionals and had multiple ex-rays and scans completed. The doctors seemed honestly baffled that I was denied my initial claim. The neurologist even told us that his initial write up was of an individual barely able to conduct the basest of human activity. We were given his name and express instructions to contact him should we be denied another time. Amy was allowed to be present through every examination except the psychological exam. This was a major difference compared to previous visits. There was a certain level of remorse and explanations that they couldn't comprehend how they denied the benefits increase. I suppose that if things have to go to a hearing level we'll have their doctor's testifying on our behalf...
I'm hoping that I've caught up on my sleep and have recuperated enough to start my life again. I'm not overly tired at the moment and think I'll journal a bit (I keep a paper journal) and work on some poetry. If I manage to stay awake tomorrow then I have plans to finish 'The Three Musketeers' and find a new piece of literature to delve into. The last few days my vision has been terrible, and I attribute it to the exertions of last week. Time will only tell. I'll make plans to have a new post with updated information later in the week...
Thank you all for taking the time to read,
K.M.Shear
Truth be told, I've found myself very drained since my last set of medical appointments. Last Monday I was scene in Milwaukee to evaluate my nightmares, and then a full day was spent this past Thursday at the North Chicago facility for evaluations in conjunction to my claims. Progress was made, but was severely taxing on my own level of will. I've spent several days now over the last week simply unconscious; with a mind to create and write, but no will to do so. I'm not sure if it's a matter of depression, or simply my body quitting on me. I'm unsure if I'd even want to know. If it's depression I'm doomed to adding more mediations to an, already, oversized list. If it's my body unable to handle the stresses I put it through then it stands to reason that future endeavors may put me out of commission as well...
I learned that the symptoms I'm exhibiting are those of an individual with PTSD. They prescribed Prazosin to help ease the nightmares, and want to keep an eye on me to combat my other symptoms if they get overly grand. Sadly, because my trauma is ongoing, I can not be diagnosed with PTSD, but they'll be treating me as a PTSD patient... I'm not sure what kind of medical sense that makes, but that's what I've been told.
The full day of diagnostics on Thursday really took a toll. I was examined by 4 different professionals and had multiple ex-rays and scans completed. The doctors seemed honestly baffled that I was denied my initial claim. The neurologist even told us that his initial write up was of an individual barely able to conduct the basest of human activity. We were given his name and express instructions to contact him should we be denied another time. Amy was allowed to be present through every examination except the psychological exam. This was a major difference compared to previous visits. There was a certain level of remorse and explanations that they couldn't comprehend how they denied the benefits increase. I suppose that if things have to go to a hearing level we'll have their doctor's testifying on our behalf...
I'm hoping that I've caught up on my sleep and have recuperated enough to start my life again. I'm not overly tired at the moment and think I'll journal a bit (I keep a paper journal) and work on some poetry. If I manage to stay awake tomorrow then I have plans to finish 'The Three Musketeers' and find a new piece of literature to delve into. The last few days my vision has been terrible, and I attribute it to the exertions of last week. Time will only tell. I'll make plans to have a new post with updated information later in the week...
Thank you all for taking the time to read,
K.M.Shear
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Lacking Tools
I was going to do a follow-up post about my appointment last night. Amy beat me to it. If you all don't mind taking a minute to click a link and read about it there, I'll fill you in on some of my views when you get back... (You may also want to follow her blog because she often has entries from a different perspective)
Amy's Blog
I was privy to some profound outlooks on my disability by my Primary Care doctor. The most profound was that he didn't believe RSDS/CRPS pain was worse than natural child birth or cancer. It's been reported, consistently, by people who have had two of the three, but he doesn't agree with the reported findings. Second, possibly tied with the first statement, was that it 'may be time to seek treatment somewhere else.' This is a service connected disability, and he's the second medical professional to tell me I may want to look into getting treatment outside the VA....
Mind you, that this conversation was taking place while I was on the verge of blacking out from my pain and mildly dribbling urine into my pants. The appointment ended with a prescription for Fentanyl, and the feeling that all the evidence wasn't going to be included in the doctor's notes...
That's a big kick in the chops, because the VA won't award me benefits due to the lack of solid notation by my doctors...
So, I'm home, mildly stoned from the high concentration of narcotic (Fentanyl is more powerful than morphine), and trying to organize my thoughts into some form of attack plan for the rest of my day. God willing, I'll get something done today! ;)
Thank you all for taking the time to read.
You're appreciated,
Kev
Amy's Blog
I was privy to some profound outlooks on my disability by my Primary Care doctor. The most profound was that he didn't believe RSDS/CRPS pain was worse than natural child birth or cancer. It's been reported, consistently, by people who have had two of the three, but he doesn't agree with the reported findings. Second, possibly tied with the first statement, was that it 'may be time to seek treatment somewhere else.' This is a service connected disability, and he's the second medical professional to tell me I may want to look into getting treatment outside the VA....
Mind you, that this conversation was taking place while I was on the verge of blacking out from my pain and mildly dribbling urine into my pants. The appointment ended with a prescription for Fentanyl, and the feeling that all the evidence wasn't going to be included in the doctor's notes...
That's a big kick in the chops, because the VA won't award me benefits due to the lack of solid notation by my doctors...
So, I'm home, mildly stoned from the high concentration of narcotic (Fentanyl is more powerful than morphine), and trying to organize my thoughts into some form of attack plan for the rest of my day. God willing, I'll get something done today! ;)
Thank you all for taking the time to read.
You're appreciated,
Kev
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Let's Try This Again
Last week I missed my appointment with my primary care because I ended up in the emergency room. The appointment was rescheduled for today, and last night I thought I was going to end up in the ER again. This morning is a different story. I'm awake, in pain, but doing well enough to not need the ER visit.
We'll see how the rest of the day goes...
I've been trying to dedicate a little bit of each day to working on some writing. I'm in the midst of co-translating a Danish novel for my friend L.G. Jensen, working on three poems, my own novel, and writing three songs. A little bit each day is all I aim for, and, when I can do no more, I lay down and rest. It's aggravating not being able to work through things consistently, but I'm happy I get a little bit of time each day to try and accomplish things.
The pain is getting very difficult to manage. I hope today's visit will yield a better arrangement to controlling my pain.
We'll see how the rest of the day goes...
I've been trying to dedicate a little bit of each day to working on some writing. I'm in the midst of co-translating a Danish novel for my friend L.G. Jensen, working on three poems, my own novel, and writing three songs. A little bit each day is all I aim for, and, when I can do no more, I lay down and rest. It's aggravating not being able to work through things consistently, but I'm happy I get a little bit of time each day to try and accomplish things.
The pain is getting very difficult to manage. I hope today's visit will yield a better arrangement to controlling my pain.
Friday, January 14, 2011
One More Time, With Feeling
So, for those of you who haven't heard yet, I spent the majority of Wednesday in the ER, and the majority of yesterday trying to recover. Today is a new day, and I plan on making the most of it; the most of what my pain will let me.
The ER visit was a 'new' one. We were headed to the Milwaukee V.A. for an appointment anyway, so I just spent an hour, passing out here and there, in the car to get to the ER versus twenty minutes. The doctor was great, taking detailed notes and switching me from morphine to dalauted and valium. I was there for six hours, and they kept coming in every hour or so to shoot me up with more pain killers. I wish I was closer to the Milwaukee clinic so I could go there for all my ER visits. They really have a remarkable staff and facility there, and I would highly recommend anyone to go there vise anywhere else.
Yesterday I felt like I'd been hit by a truck. My heart rate in the ER was in excess of 170 beats per minute when I arrived. My leg still feels like I'd been breaking boards with my thigh, foot, and calf. The prescribed muscle relaxers aren't helping much either. My muscles are still very knotted up and firing at odd times. I'm surprised nothing broke mid trip.
Today is a new day, and I plan to take full advantage of what my body will let me.
The ER visit was a 'new' one. We were headed to the Milwaukee V.A. for an appointment anyway, so I just spent an hour, passing out here and there, in the car to get to the ER versus twenty minutes. The doctor was great, taking detailed notes and switching me from morphine to dalauted and valium. I was there for six hours, and they kept coming in every hour or so to shoot me up with more pain killers. I wish I was closer to the Milwaukee clinic so I could go there for all my ER visits. They really have a remarkable staff and facility there, and I would highly recommend anyone to go there vise anywhere else.
Yesterday I felt like I'd been hit by a truck. My heart rate in the ER was in excess of 170 beats per minute when I arrived. My leg still feels like I'd been breaking boards with my thigh, foot, and calf. The prescribed muscle relaxers aren't helping much either. My muscles are still very knotted up and firing at odd times. I'm surprised nothing broke mid trip.
Today is a new day, and I plan to take full advantage of what my body will let me.
Friday, December 17, 2010
Back to the ER
I spent several hours at the ER last night. I was at a Marnie Corps League meeting when my outbreak started, and by the end of the meeting I had to be carried out. I even blacked out while trying to get into the van. They gave me my injections of pain killers directly into the muscle and didn't run an IV. Having them administered this way worked far better than through an IV. They took a bit longer to kick in, but lasted far longer. In the future I'm going to request this form of administration..
Tonight I'm hurting. We had to drive to the Milwaukee V.A. to pick up my medical records. There must have been over 100 pages of information. Hopefully I'll be able to comb through it and present supporting facts for my case. I only wish that the V.F.W. would have been doing this.
I started working on a new song, and hope to have it up on my poetry site by tomorrow evening. I've been developing the songs to fit into a CD titled 'Just One Breath', and the song I'm working on will have that title. It's, perhaps, the lightest song I've written, and it feels good to do something more uplifting.
I was featured at Web of Life. So please take a few minutes and read the post, and check out their site. These gentleman have a genuine love of life and belief in positives. I think you'll all find it an uplifting experience.
I wanted to tell you all how much I appreciate all the support you all have given my family. I'm quite anxious about our upcoming eviction, but I'm trying to focus on how it can be a useful tool in ensuring future veterans with RSD don't have to experience this. Regardless, I am feeling something I haven't felt in quite a while. Love.
It feels good to tell my friends and family that I love them, and too few people do it. I'm not sure if there's a reason for not saying it, but I'm going to say it anyway.
With love and respect,
Kevin Shear
Tonight I'm hurting. We had to drive to the Milwaukee V.A. to pick up my medical records. There must have been over 100 pages of information. Hopefully I'll be able to comb through it and present supporting facts for my case. I only wish that the V.F.W. would have been doing this.
I started working on a new song, and hope to have it up on my poetry site by tomorrow evening. I've been developing the songs to fit into a CD titled 'Just One Breath', and the song I'm working on will have that title. It's, perhaps, the lightest song I've written, and it feels good to do something more uplifting.
I was featured at Web of Life. So please take a few minutes and read the post, and check out their site. These gentleman have a genuine love of life and belief in positives. I think you'll all find it an uplifting experience.
I wanted to tell you all how much I appreciate all the support you all have given my family. I'm quite anxious about our upcoming eviction, but I'm trying to focus on how it can be a useful tool in ensuring future veterans with RSD don't have to experience this. Regardless, I am feeling something I haven't felt in quite a while. Love.
It feels good to tell my friends and family that I love them, and too few people do it. I'm not sure if there's a reason for not saying it, but I'm going to say it anyway.
With love and respect,
Kevin Shear
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Looking toward the future.
I've informed the V.A. of my address countless times. They still send my mail to my mother's house. A letter came in this week, that they're going to be having a hearing in regards to my case. I'm sending out an APB because I can have as many people testify as I want. I figure, if we have enough people there, it will take a long time and I'll have a major pain attack on-site. They'll have to rush me to the ER, and will have a very difficult time saying I shouldn't get benefits. I'll post the exact dates, and perhaps send save the date cards...
My pain is being managed better. Still hurts, but I can get around a bit now without bursting into tears or passing out. I'm becoming more tolerant of the narcotics. I'm taking two pills most days now, and I've been talking with my doctor about moving to three on days I need a third. I wish there was a non-narcotic medication we could switch to. Switching between the two would decrease tolerance. Unfortunately, I'm told, there isn't anything else they have at the V.A.
The Marine Corps League came buy a couple days ago; dropped off two large bags of toys for Lincoln and Ashlynn. I spent a good part of that day in tears. Santa really did come for them this year...
I can't wait till I have my benefits and can do the same for another veteran...
My pain is being managed better. Still hurts, but I can get around a bit now without bursting into tears or passing out. I'm becoming more tolerant of the narcotics. I'm taking two pills most days now, and I've been talking with my doctor about moving to three on days I need a third. I wish there was a non-narcotic medication we could switch to. Switching between the two would decrease tolerance. Unfortunately, I'm told, there isn't anything else they have at the V.A.
The Marine Corps League came buy a couple days ago; dropped off two large bags of toys for Lincoln and Ashlynn. I spent a good part of that day in tears. Santa really did come for them this year...
I can't wait till I have my benefits and can do the same for another veteran...
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Making Choices
The worst thing about RSD is having to choose what you're willing to suffer for. I remember when I didn't have to evaluate everything based on the suffering that would ensue after the event. It really opens your eyes to what's important.
Last night I went to a local pub with my brother and his girlfriend. What a fantastic time. He won some decent cash based on my pics for the UFC fights, and it was great to spend time with the two of them. But today...
Today may be a hospital day. I've already dosed myself with narcotic, muscle relaxer, and supplements. My stomach is flip flopping from all the pain, and I'm afraid to stop moving because I don't want to pass out. Just stopping for the short time to type this up is causing me distress.
I was planning on spending a majority of the day working on my writing and music. Music is out for today because I won't be able to hold a guitar unless things calm down, or I want to finalize the trip to the hospital. So I'll spend some time writing and perhaps game a bit.
Things aren't moving as fast as I'd like on my other blog, Shear's Shorts, but they're progressing. The link to that page is at the bottom of my blog. Hopefully I've been able to get a few people interested who will follow me, and brought some new readers to my good friends...
Thanks for reading.
Last night I went to a local pub with my brother and his girlfriend. What a fantastic time. He won some decent cash based on my pics for the UFC fights, and it was great to spend time with the two of them. But today...
Today may be a hospital day. I've already dosed myself with narcotic, muscle relaxer, and supplements. My stomach is flip flopping from all the pain, and I'm afraid to stop moving because I don't want to pass out. Just stopping for the short time to type this up is causing me distress.
I was planning on spending a majority of the day working on my writing and music. Music is out for today because I won't be able to hold a guitar unless things calm down, or I want to finalize the trip to the hospital. So I'll spend some time writing and perhaps game a bit.
Things aren't moving as fast as I'd like on my other blog, Shear's Shorts, but they're progressing. The link to that page is at the bottom of my blog. Hopefully I've been able to get a few people interested who will follow me, and brought some new readers to my good friends...
Thanks for reading.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Two Pill Days
RSD is like having a parasite. It's in me, part of me, and I have no control over it. I have pain every day to varying degrees. Some days I'm able to play my guitar in a modified postion or play video games to escape, and then there are days like yesterday and today. I call them two pill days.
Imagine that when you're sleeping you dream of being hurt badly and it's not enough to wake you up. One of your limbs is being mutilated. And when you finally do wake up it's into a nightmare reality that you're actually experiencing all the pain from the dream. Sometimes I wake up shaking like I'm having a seizure, other days I'll wake up screaming, and still other days I simply open my eyes and accept what's going on.
When I wake up with severe pain it's almost always guarenteed to escalate unless I take a heavy narcotic and try to isolate my leg. I call them two pill days because I usually end up taking one pill around this time and another around 6 hours later. Sadly it seems that the narcotics aren't working very well anymore and there are no other forms of pain medication available in my area.
If I moved to California I could make use of medicinal marijuana. Moving would require me to give up the incredible medical team I have pulling for me at the Milwaukee VA. I'm still not sold that the move for a secondary medicine is worth the gamble of ending up with a terrifying team of incompetant, uncaring doctors...
Imagine that when you're sleeping you dream of being hurt badly and it's not enough to wake you up. One of your limbs is being mutilated. And when you finally do wake up it's into a nightmare reality that you're actually experiencing all the pain from the dream. Sometimes I wake up shaking like I'm having a seizure, other days I'll wake up screaming, and still other days I simply open my eyes and accept what's going on.
When I wake up with severe pain it's almost always guarenteed to escalate unless I take a heavy narcotic and try to isolate my leg. I call them two pill days because I usually end up taking one pill around this time and another around 6 hours later. Sadly it seems that the narcotics aren't working very well anymore and there are no other forms of pain medication available in my area.
If I moved to California I could make use of medicinal marijuana. Moving would require me to give up the incredible medical team I have pulling for me at the Milwaukee VA. I'm still not sold that the move for a secondary medicine is worth the gamble of ending up with a terrifying team of incompetant, uncaring doctors...
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