I have a hell of a toothache. A couple of months ago I broke a tooth, and went to a franchise-type dentist who took emergency cases. One of the down sides of being a professional vagrant is I don’t have a regular dentist.
For a little over $1000 I walked out with a new crown and instructions to call if I had any problems.
I did have a problem, before I even left the office.
I felt that I should have had a root canal before the crown went on. I know my teeth. They are ornery, pesky things. They operate in strict accordance with Murphy’s Law: anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.
The dentist assured me that the nerve looked fine, and he hated to mess up a basically healthy tooth.
A couple days later, the thing started hurting like a sonovabitch. I called the dentist, who immediately assumed I was a drug seeker and blew me off, saying that it might take a few weeks to settle down.
It hasn’t. In fact, it’s getting worse. Now I have to look for a dentist who will…but wait, it’s Labor Day Weekend! No dentist till next week, when I have to run up to Michigan to get some warrantee work done on the old brand new RV. Maybe I’ll find a dentist there, with a lot of luck.
So, in order to buy some time and have at least a few hours out of misery, I took two of my hoarded tramadol tabs. Now I have maybe 20 left.
Then I opened my email, to find a bulletin regarding a new FDA policy, intended to protect ourselves from ourselves: black box warnings on both opioids and benzodiazepines, warning that they must not…Black Box MUST NOT…be taken together, because of the potential of respiratory depression leading to death.
A Black Box warning is the strongest labeling there is. This means that in a time when even being prescribed pain medicine is becoming a remote possibility, those of us who take benzos for anxiety disorders and/or movement disorders, seizure disorders, or insomnia, will have an even more difficult time obtaining effective pain management. Doctors who prescribe both meds at the same time will open themselves up for censure and lawsuits. Pharmacists are being given increasing power to simply refuse to fill prescriptions. They don’t have to, and if the FDA issues black box warnings, they are fully within their rights to refuse to fill prescription A if the patient is known to be taking prescription B. In fact, if they do fill it and the patient has an adverse effect, the pharmacist is liable, can lose their license, and can be sued.
This is of direct concern to me. My neurosychiatrist, who unfortunately has retired due to failed back surgery, hammered out a drug cocktail during the course of our 12 year clinical relationship, that effectively treats my bipolar, PTSD, and social phobia. It includes 3 types of benzos. All at once.
It also helps with the muscle spasms that cripple me day and night.
Now I fear that when my prescriptions run low, I won’t be able to find anyone to prescribe these lifesaving medicines because they are “too much.”
Worse, the degeneration of my spine is getting to a critical point. One of the bones in my neck is rotating in such a way that it is pressing against my spinal cord. I’m going to need surgery soon. Major surgery, to fuse three of my cervical vertebrae and lift them up off the nerves they’re pressing on.
I won’t describe the surgery, because it makes me sick even to think about it. I’ll just say that it involves lots of chopping up bone and remodeling. Very, very painful stuff.
So…in today’s anti-pain med climate, what’ll it be? Black Box Warning ahead! Do I get to continue my benzo regimen so I can maintain a semblance of normalcy, and not be a hypervigilant mess, or do I get a modicum of pain relief after having this spinal carpentry fest? Do I have any say in this matter?
Last time I had spine surgery, I got sent home with zero pain meds. None. And that was in 1987!
Why on earth did this happen?
Because I happened to joke to the pre-op nurse who was taking down my then very short med list (one med!) that I took Xanax for the three days before my periods, and that I was addicted to not having PMS. She wrote down that I was addicted to Xanax! It was recorded in my chart that I had admitted to being a drug addict. So when I called the hospital to ask for some kind of postoperative pain relief, the neurosurgery intern scolded me about being a drug addict seeking drugs. No pain meds. And that was a relatively minor procedure, compared to the one I’m facing.
I really don’t know what to do. Sometimes I wish I’d just die in my sleep, so I wouldn’t have to face this surgery and the prospect of being helpless, in agony, without the possibility of comfort.