Side effects

This post is intended to balance out the recent prevalence of mushy I heart Tuxedo posts.

The pain patch is doing a pretty good job; having a constant level of narcotics soaking into my system has helped smooth out the troughs I’d experience between doses, when the last dose was wearing off but before I could take another (eg, when I was asleep; night-times and morning wakings were baaaaad). I haven’t reduced the dosage of my usual meds, but there has been a slight but noticeable reduction in the screaming writhing pain levels, so I’ve been able to get out a bit more, have a bit more fun. This may be due in part to the weather being very pleasant, and to Tuxedo being home and keeping my mind off boring shite like pain, and keeping my endorphin levels up … oops, broke my own rule already. Sorry. Anyways, so far the pain patch is looking like a good proposition (the other therapies discussed previously are also extremely helpful and enjoyable … ohhh baby).

The thing I really really REALLY hate about the pain patch is the side effects. Not the crazed itching, on site and all over, I’m used to that (standard issue with morphine/opioids). Not the mood swings and depressive effect, I’m used to that too (ditto). Nausea, yawn. But the goddamn constipation, Jesus Tittyfucking Christ!!! I should be used to that, too, as morphine is renowned as a binder-upper of epic proportions. Even relatively small one-off doses given to post-op patients, for example, can have a severe effect requiring suppositories (eeeeeek!!!). Given the dosage I’m on, and the inevitable cumulative effect, I’m often a tad blocked, but given a good diet and lots of water I manage to keep the gut and contents doing the right thing.

But the pain patch, oh dear oh dear oh dear. One more medication with constipation as a side effect = major problem. A few nights ago, after three quarters of an hour spent cramped, sweating, ghost-white and whimpering, about ready to pass out, colonic irrigation started looking like a damn good idea. I was truly full of bricks, but unfortunately not shitting the bastards. Imagine if you went in for a colonoscopy, and the gastroenterologist turned out to be a vindictive ex and filled the tube with quick drying cement. Yeah, like that.

I’ve started hitting the laxatives, and have made myself several gallons of dried fruit compote (a selection of dried pears, apples, apricots, figs and PRUNES for fuck’s sake, simmered in about a quarter cup of water for about five minutes, chilled and to be served with natural Greek-style yoghurt, for those friendly bacteria and extra calcium) so hopefully this dark matter (reference to Futurama – just call me Nibbler) in my gut will get shifting soon. My patience and the skin around the area involved is wearing thin.

Like I needed anymore problems, I mean really. Bad enough having severe chronic disabling pain not responsive to non-narcotic medication; add in a spasming concrete gut and the fun is just beginning. If anyone has some practical suggestions/remedies, please comment or email me. Please.


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  • Tuxedo  On Friday 12 May 2006 at 12:00 am

    I like the mushy stuff

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