The first epidural — the day before I left for Italy, in September of 2005 — was indeed a temporary fix. The first few weeks seemed somewhat helpful but relief faded quickly; having a second epidural in December did nothing. According to Dr. Z, pain meds were my last resort. He gave me a referral to Dr. Adam Beecher*, a pain management specialist, in January of 2006.

My experience with narcotics thus far had involved more vomit than relief, and I struggled with the idea of medicating on a daily basis. I learned the hard way that demerol and morphine made me puke, and everything in the opiate/opioid category made me constipated (there is a whole discussion on that very topic in a future post!).

As an athletic human who eats real food, I never relished the idea of polluting my body with chemicals. I deplored the idea, vociferously. Months go by before I make an appointment.

I F*ING HATE PAIN MEDS.

*Doctor names changed for privacy.