Initially I was pretty useless. Most of my non-working life was spent on the couch. Every wobbly ascent from a sitting position was greeting was rapturous applause from those around me. Being unable to lie comfortably on my back, or side, or front, I slept on the couch. Wedged amongst cushions, half sitting up, half on my side, I was able to find a position where my awareness of the implant was minimal. Flat on my back I felt a terrifying pulling sensation. I was haunted by thoughts of this kilogram weight hanging precariously from the inside of my abdominal wall. ‘Will I ever ride a rollercoaster again?’ I asked myself. Standing up hurt, sitting down hurt, lifting my legs up to let Br sit on the couch hurt, shifting position hurt.
They sent me home from the hospital with tramadol and digesic and this made life bearable. I was somehow able to get through my 7.6 hours at work, place myself on the couch and then generously allow K and Br to take care of everything else.
Br was worried and spent every night at our house, sleeping on a camping mattress on the floor next to me. He would bring me shakes, juice and drugs. When I was tired he would rub my hands and feet until I fell asleep.
On Wednesday I ran out of tramadol. The clinic said by this time I should only need over the counter meds. What a pile of shit.
Wednesday night I woke hourly, to sit and mewl at late night tv. Of course, I wanted to wake up Br, but I didn’t want to explicitly do so. That’s a bit bloody soft. It only works if he accidentally wakes up and then keeps me company while I’m in pain and can’t sleep. There’s nothing worse than sleep-envy.
Things were worse for N and she wanted the implant out. The clinic said no and so did her GP. She asked him if she could take it out herself.
‘What? With a knife?’
‘Yeah.’
‘No, don’t do that.’
By the end of work on Thursday I was feeling quite sad and sorry for myself. N called and she was elated. She told me to come over. Her GP had prescribed her oxycontin, endone and voltaren and she was over the moon. Let’s not talk about the legal, ethical or safety issues involved in taking someone else’s prescription. Let’s just concede that I was pretty desperate.
That night I had the best sleep of my life. Not really, but life before pain had ceased to exist.
N has such a fucking comfy couch.
The joy of pain free existence! Oh, to be able to turn my body and reverse my car without threat of hitting dogs, children and old people! I was actually functional again. I could wipe my bum! I even did some washing up.
I rang the clinic hoping they might be willing to prescribe me hardcore pain relief over the phone. That’s how you can tell I had gone crazy. There were no doctors in so fortunately there was no professional staff available to say no. I had been gently fobbed off. I didn’t mind.
Turns out my GP had moved to Melbourne. This is a shame. I like my GP and she likes diet pills. This means she will prescribe them to me. For a number of years this has been the true measure of a great GP in my eyes. If I couldn’t get duromine or at least reductil out of someone they weren’t of much use to me. Who else will facilitate my yoyo dieting with such efficiency?
So I left work to go to an appointment at a medical centre in the burbs – the other centre was in the city (read: no parking) and doesn’t bulk bill me anymore. This GP advised me that if I had pain I should present to Emergency. I pointed out to this professional that I had just had a surgery and was expecting to experience pain – I simply required medication to manage my pain. Between waiting, seeing the GP, the GP placing a call to the clinic, waiting more, and the GP receiving a return call from the clinic I found myself, two hours later, crying in my car, in the car park of this godforsaken medical centre, on the phone to N with nothing but a bill for $62 and a prescription for voltaren I could easily have obtained from the clinic over the phone.
N’s GP wanted to help but it is illegal to prescribe the drugs I needed on first presentation to a clinic. Moral: Keep tight with your GP.
N came with me to an appointment at my city medical centre to make sure I was advocating for myself properly. I know this is absurd given I’m a lawyer. Let’s just say that N is a very different lawyer to myself. Excluding waiting time it took no more than 10 minutes for me to secure the prescription. I almost scored a bloke’s prescription for valium when he left it at reception.
Maybe a little bit too much valium…
But you know what? The pain is almost gone now. It just started lifting on Sunday.
I can even sit straight now and stick my tits out. Hello boys!
Start weight: 112.5
Last recorded weight: 106
Weight lost: 6.5
LT goal weight: 75
ST goal weight: 99
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