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in search of non-judgemental moral support.
  1. #1
    emmafrost is offline New Member
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    Default in search of non-judgemental moral support.

    First and foremost, i am a new member, writing this on my phone, and don't know how to properly navigate this site, so please excuse any errors in this post. My name is Nic, and I'm going to have to start this off with a little background.

    When I was 15 years old, I was diagnosed with a polinidal cyst. Keep in mind that these cysts are most common in overweight or hairy men, and I was - and still am - a female that barely weighs 110 pounds and has access to razors. Polinidal cysts occur on the tailbone, so it is extremely painful. What made this even more painful was being misdiagnosed.

    I am from the DC area but moved to southern VA a few years before this issue. Basically, medical facilities in my area and surrounding it flat out suck. But since I was covered in blood, tears, and in too much pain to describe when the cyst popped, my mom took me to Urgent Care. I will never go back to them. The lady said I had an abcess. She tested it, cleaned it, packed it, and I went to her for 10 days straight for shots, painkillers, and more packing. She said eventually it would heal, it never did.

    At 17, I saw my OBGYN in McLean, VA about it because it was still open and incredibly painful. He referred me to a colorectal doctor at Arlington (Virginia) hospital. He diagnosed me correctly, gave me more pain medication, and signed me up for surgery in march, a few days after my 18th birthday.

    The process leading up to the procedure was >>>>ty for me to go through. I've never been the pinnacle of health. I'm anemic, the cyst gave me non-viral MRSA, strep, and staph. I have endo and have been on various forms of BC since 4th grade. I suffer from chronic migraines, horrible anxiety, the list literally goes on and on. But this pre-op regiment sucked.

    It involved enemas, lots of milk of magnesia, more painkillers, a not-really-but-kind-of colonoscopy I was awake for and the post-op was just as awful. I had a drain, 3 layers of stitches, and had to be basically wrapped up in gauze for weeks. The estimated bed rest and recovery time was a month. It lasted almost 3. 3 months of not being able to sit, not wanting to use the bathroom because I was in so much pain, and a very patient boyfriend who has witnessed all of this since the day I started to notice that something was wrong when I was 15.

    Eventually I healed. I was left with an awful, angry, and embarrassing scar and one from the drain too. I'm affectionately called "Frankenbutt" by my mom. My days of being a butt model are over. The thing is so big that I can't wear bathing suits. And that sucks when you are 18. Hell, it still sucks at 20 when you have an amazing boyfriend of 5 years that you love dearly but are terrified of undressing in front of because of how absolutely hideous the scar is.

    Sadly for me this was not the end of the problem. Typically, these cysts are about the size of a nickel, sometimes a quarter. Mine was the size of a teabag. A 2 hour surgery took 4 and when it was all said and done I had chronic pain.

    I tried everything. Yoga, other forms of exercise, OTC pain relievers, all kinds of "natural" ways to try and ease the indescribable pain I felt for 2 years. Naturally, none of it worked. Only vicodin did. I mean, this pain was so bad and constant that I couldn't go to the movies. Car rides were hell. Sitting through class left me in tears. But my doctor in NOVA (who is truly amazing) understood that the vicodin was a short-term thing and even though he would give it to me so I could somewhat enjoy myself, it was time to look into what was wrong.

    I'm now 20. A few months ago, I saw a highly recommended plastic and reconstructive surgeon in NOVA thinking that maybe there was something wrong with the scar itself. Nope. Scar is actually perfect as far as these procedures go. She referred me to a Croatian doctor close to her who specialized in nerve damage. It was exactly what I had. A month ago I went in for a surgery to fix a problem I had 2 years ago. I am still healing and have a few weeks left to go, so right now it's a guessing game in regards to if the peripheral nerve surgery worked.

    But I am facing a bigger problem.

    I have quite literally been on a steady, one a day vicodin regiment for 5 years. I was on 750's up until the recent change in March. I'm now on 450's. I say "now", but I am out. And it sucks.

    I didn't realize how dependent I was on them up until 2 weeks ago when my bottle went empty. For 5 days, I went through horrific withdrawals. I felt like I had the flu. On top of being in pain because of the surgery, I was miserable. I was hot yet cold. I was sweaty but covered in chills. I was so anxious that my heart constantly felt like it was coming out of my throat. On top of my anxiety, it was not fun. Neither was the puking with stiches on my ass. Then my refill came in - only 30 - and I took them. With the lesser dose, I took 2 once a day because after taking 750's for so long I developed a tolerance.

    I've been out for 2 days now and have no means of obtaining more but I am not complaining about that. I just am scared. This time is a little easier than last. The muscle aches aren't so bad. But my stomach is insanely upset. I stocked up on benadryl to mellow me out during the day because I feel like I am going to have a panic attack at any moment and I have some zzzquil to sleep through the night. My boyfriend knows I am going through withdrawal. He is supportive but also giving me my space.

    The process is very.... uncomfortable. I can't imagine what this is like for people who use more or use harder substances. I only took 1 vicodin a day for 5 years, then 2 a day for a few months, and I am miserable.

    To conclude this rambly mess, I just came here to vent to people who are not judgemental and who have a similar experience. I am hoping that in a few days the intense restlessness will subside, but I know absolutely nothing about this, so I am trying to educate myself the best I can.

    Thank you all so much for reading. Best wishes.

  2. #2
    Ninja_Knight is offline New Member
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    I can't even imagine everything you've been put through. But as someone who struggled with a 6-8 a day pill habit I believe you'll come out on top. Sounds like you have an awesome boyfriend who loves you very much. And that alone will make a huge difference in your recovery. Things will be rough at first but every day will be a little easier as far as withdrawal is concerned. If not for my moments of weakness these past few days I'd be over 16 months clean. Keep your chin up your a strong woman, I know you can do this

  3. #3
    makanda is offline New Member
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    You can do it! I'm sorry you've spent so much if your young life in pain. I know it's not fair, but you must persevere. Taking a walk with my iPod helps my anxiety...

  4. #4
    emmafrost is offline New Member
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    Thank you both for your kind words and encouragement. I am sorry to hear about your slip up but I'm sure that in no time you will be back on track.

    I had no clue I was going to withdrawal. I never took more than 1 pill a day then 2 when the dosage dropped. I wasn't obtaining them illegally, I wasn't abusing them, but I suppose after being on them for so damn long it is to be expected.

    Today is day 4 and I feel great, surprisingly. No muscle aches, I can sleep and eat. I don't have to stay close to the rest room. I'm still anxious, but my heart isn't lurching out of my chest. Being in pain still from the surgery totally sucks on top of it but compared to the last few days I just feel normal again.

    Hopefully this will continue and I won't go down into the pit of sleeping all day and waking up a sweaty mess again. I think that when my anxiety is finally being handled I will feel much better too, but I have definitely seen an improvement. Having a positive attitude helps, and so does the tip of going on a walk with good music.

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