I hate my life sometimes. Today is one of those days. This morning the alarm on my iPad goes off to let me know that it is time for my pain medication. I open the drawer to retrieve it and…BAM! It is not there. Panic mode set in and a million thoughts went through my head:
- Did I move it?
- Did someone steal it?
- Where would I have moved it to?
- Why would I have moved it?
- Was someone in the house?
- I haven’t had any visitors.
- Did someone break in?
- I just knew I should have purchased a safe.
- Why haven’t I priced small safes?
- This can not be happening?
- What will I tell my doctor?
- Will he believe me?
- Will he replace it?
- There’s no way he would replace it.
- What am I going to do for the next week without any pain medication?
- I will be completely bed-bound. Worse than I am now.
I proceed to go on a wild goose chase looking for my pain medication. I re-checked the drawer. I pulled the drawer completely out to look to see if it had fallen behind. I checked the other drawer (meaning I pulled every bit of junk out of it – and there’s a lot of junk!) to make sure it wasn’t there. I looked under the bed. I looked on top of the bed. I looked in my crochet bag. I sat down and cried. Then I had the strangest thought. Did I throw the box away? I checked the trash in my room, but I had taken it out the day before. So out I go outside in the cold (without a jacket because like I said, I’m panicking) to bring in the trash bag from outside. I cut open the bag and found the smaller bag from my bedroom. I cut it open and began pulling things out. Finally, I found a box. I’m thinking, please God let this be it. Luckily, it was.
I bet you’re thinking “well, if you found your meds, then what’s the problem?” Well, the problem is that life shouldn’t be this way. Not for a 32 year young woman. First of all, I shouldn’t have had the brain fog that would allow me to throw almost a whole box of medication away. Second, I shouldn’t have to panic and worry about the immense suffering that I would go through without my medicines. That one thought alone scared the shit out of me. I’ve been on medication for a long time and it seems my pain was just starting to rear it’s ugly head when I started taking it. The one time that I forgot to take any of my daily medications was because of a partial seizure. It’s easy to forget medicines at a time like that because with partial seizures you don’t feel pain. When I finally came out of it, the whole day had passed and it was around 5 or 6 in the evening. I had missed at least two if not three doses of my medicines. When the sensation of pain finally hit me, I was miserable. Actually, miserable does not come close to describing what I felt. So the thought this morning of going back to that kind of pain truly scared the shit out of me.
I am just starting to calm down a little thanks to a dose of Ativan. My thoughts now are in pricing a small safe in case a visitor or a thief decides to “borrow” some of my medications. Of course I know that’s not what caused the panic this morning, but there is absolutely nothing I can do about the brain fog making me do stupid stuff. I will, however, try to be more aware of what is going on around me. I mean, I go into my medicine drawer four times a day. I should have noticed before today that the box was no longer in there.
I hate feeling this way. I hate the fear. I hate the fact that I NEED this type of medication. I’m sure my day will get better, but for now, I am throughly freaked out.
What do you do to protect your controlled substances? Do you have a safe? If not, do you ever think that you might need one? How does it make you feel to have to take this type of medication? Do you ever think about what your life would be like without it?