The Pill Game

Damn. Damn. Damn.

I had tapered down to a twice daily dose of smaller amounts of meds and was doing just fine. The kind of fine where I could start to take things for granted again. Things like looking at my watch to see if it's time to take afternoon meds. Like going out into the world without bringing a water bottle so that I would have something to help wash down my meds. Like eating spicy food and tomato sauce, and other trigger foods. Like paying attention to the explosion of wildflowers instead of signals of impending pain bursts.

Then the ripples began. Little spikey fish swimming around my insides. Then glass shards. Then water balloons filled to bursting. Nothing can be taken for granted in this state.

I tell Richard what's going on. Not that I need to. He can see the signs for himself. They're not subtle. I disappear, leaving a trail of pain crumbs for him to follow.

So I follow the instructions I have been given dozens of times. Don't play around with meds. Don't try to take one more blue pill for a few days and then stop to see if it worked. Then add the yellow pill and sprinkle a couple of brown ones here and there, for extra conrol, and color contrast. Then stop, start, stop, start. Don't do any of that.

Go back up to the pill regimen under which I last had the best pain control. And stay there. For at least a month, maybe longer.

So this time I remember the advice. I follow instructions. The pain recedes. I am filled with gratitude and resentment.

That's the way it goes.