It's now six weeks since the debridement and the pain in my jaw has practically gone away--enough that I could cut off my pain meds entirely and start to deal with coming out of four+ months of an opiate-induced haze. I had started to wean myself off the Roxicet before my last post, but was advised to slow down on the rate of withdrawal as the detox symptoms got a bit too heavy, too fast. So I waited until Terry and I would be by ourselves at the beach for two full weeks, and gave her the order to "Hide the sharp knives--I'm going to detox the rest of the way, and there's no telling what might happen." Truth be told and thinking the worst, I had some idea that Terry might be the one using the knives, not me. That was a week ago, and I'm happy to report that the detox symptoms were not as severe as I expected--some headaches, a bit of nausea, diarrhea, some insomnia (that's why God made Atavin), some anxiety, and some "restless leg" syndrome. All of those things lasted 3-4 days and I feel like I'm through it. And, the Roxicet bottle is no longer screaming my name in the middle of the night. Now, if only the Jack Daniels bottle would shut up...
But the joke is still not over. Next thing to deal with? Very blurred vision from some unknown combination of aging, and--you guessed it--those freakin' hyperbaric treatments. I don't know the definition of legal blindness, but every time Terry jumps up and says "There's dolphins swimming right off the beach--can you see them?" my reply is "Shit, I can't even see the beach, much less the dolphins." Actually Terry didn't even need to hide the knives--I couldn't have found them if they were right in front of my face.
So, now the list of doctors is going from: family dentist, to oral surgeon1, to oral surgeon2, to ENT, to oncologist, to radiation oncologist, to gastroentronologist, to otorlayryngologist, to oral surgeon3, to a retinal opthamologist specialist who will try to figure out how much of my blurred vision is from natural aging and how much is from side effects from hyperbarics.
But, as always, this "new normal" of a life I have is far better than that "other" option I was facing, and it won't bother me in the least later tonight when I have to ask Terry, "Is that the moon, or Venus we're looking at?" She'll smile at me and say, "Neither, Honey, that's a shrimp boat."
Sunday, May 20, 2012
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
Week 2 of Wait and See, and a vent
It's been two weeks since the debridement so I thought I'd post an update. I had a follow up with the surgeon last Friday between him reading pages in a "100 Years of Fenway Park" souvenir magazine I gave him, telling me that he sees nothing out of the ordinary. Seriously, I knew he went to Harvard Medical School and is a big Sox fan, so I brought this magazine to him to read AFTER my consultation. He was so excited to get it that he was flipping through pages while he was talking with me and Terry. He did put it down long enough to look in my mouth for a minute to check out his handiwork.
The upshoot is that it's way too early to know if the procedure will be successful, but at least there are no early signs to worry about. I do have a rather large hole in my gumline that can accommodate chunks of food that a squirrel would envy--too bad winter is behind us.
The day after the debridement I started 10 more hyperbaric oxygen treatments--and am happy to report that I have the last one tomorrow. After that, I will retire the ol' Secrist 4100-H for good, even if a doctor tells me I need more time in it. I'm convinced that these very expensive and time-consuming treatments are nowhere nearly effective enough to do again. Once tomorrow's 'dive' is over, I will have spent over 100 hours in the chamber, and another 25+ hours in the facility before and after dives. Think about that--it's the equivalent of losing more than 3 WEEKS of work (plus the reported sick time away) while sitting in a glass tube sucking compressed oxygen and watching CNN and Sportscenter. A slacker's dream, but no more for this boy.
While I'm waiting for some sign that the debridement will work (always thinking positive), I'm now looking at my next challenge--withdrawing from 3+ months on a very powerful pain killing medicine. The good news is that my jaw pain is going down--allowing me to take less of the med. The bad news is that as I wean myself off the Roxicet, I'm starting to feel withdrawl effects like sweating, nausea and anxiety.
As the saying goes, "Radiation therapy--the gift that keeps on giving."
Sorry for the vent, folks, but after a while, the f$%^ing joke is over and I'd really like my old life back, so whoever is responsible, I say "Job well done, you really got me--and I'm sorry for whatever I did to piss you off" and please return me to my old bearded, pain free, Cabernet Sauvignon-drinking, food-gulping, grossly over weight self. And when you do that, please also replace the thousands of dollars of over-sized clothes that I gave away when I lost 55 pounds--I'll need them again soon.
Mike
The upshoot is that it's way too early to know if the procedure will be successful, but at least there are no early signs to worry about. I do have a rather large hole in my gumline that can accommodate chunks of food that a squirrel would envy--too bad winter is behind us.
The day after the debridement I started 10 more hyperbaric oxygen treatments--and am happy to report that I have the last one tomorrow. After that, I will retire the ol' Secrist 4100-H for good, even if a doctor tells me I need more time in it. I'm convinced that these very expensive and time-consuming treatments are nowhere nearly effective enough to do again. Once tomorrow's 'dive' is over, I will have spent over 100 hours in the chamber, and another 25+ hours in the facility before and after dives. Think about that--it's the equivalent of losing more than 3 WEEKS of work (plus the reported sick time away) while sitting in a glass tube sucking compressed oxygen and watching CNN and Sportscenter. A slacker's dream, but no more for this boy.
While I'm waiting for some sign that the debridement will work (always thinking positive), I'm now looking at my next challenge--withdrawing from 3+ months on a very powerful pain killing medicine. The good news is that my jaw pain is going down--allowing me to take less of the med. The bad news is that as I wean myself off the Roxicet, I'm starting to feel withdrawl effects like sweating, nausea and anxiety.
As the saying goes, "Radiation therapy--the gift that keeps on giving."
Sorry for the vent, folks, but after a while, the f$%^ing joke is over and I'd really like my old life back, so whoever is responsible, I say "Job well done, you really got me--and I'm sorry for whatever I did to piss you off" and please return me to my old bearded, pain free, Cabernet Sauvignon-drinking, food-gulping, grossly over weight self. And when you do that, please also replace the thousands of dollars of over-sized clothes that I gave away when I lost 55 pounds--I'll need them again soon.
Mike
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