I always thought I would be a fan of narcotics. If I got my hands on some good stuff, I would be a junkie. Maybe before all of this, I would have. I would've enjoyed the escape from life and could have been. Right now it feels more like it is robbing me of life. I'm here, but I'm not. I feel and I don't.
I have been on a pain patch for about 4 days, and have taken it off a few hours ago. I would rather feel the pain and be inside my head, than no pain and not know where I'm at. I am waiting for the last of it to clear my body.
Yesterday, while at radiation I almost didn't think I could make it through the session. I was strapped to the table as I always have been, but I lost my sense of time. I don't know if I laid there for 5 minutes or 30. I just had to breathe. Remember to breathe, they would let me out eventually. I'm breathing, but it's not working. Grab hold of the table, strain against the mask. I. Will. Breathe! Oh I have a tube in my mouth, breathe in and breathe out. Breathe through the tube. Deep relaxing breathes. I can do this. Finally the clicking starts. The treatment is beginning. If it starts, it must end. I'm almost through it. I can do this. Finally, they are letting me free. Free for one more day.
Narcotics are not for me.
I made a baby blanket.
1 day ago