I think I promised rainbows and sunshine next time? I lied, lol.
I’m trying, I want to… you know, write some cheerful, uplifting stories and shit, we don’t get enough of those in this gloom and doom we call life.
Stories about my dad, and what an exceptional dude he was. Wicked smart, and yet so patient with other people… way more patient then I could be with some of the idiots that inhabit our daily lives.
A story, maybe, about my sister, and what a beautiful, lovely, caring person she was, and how cruel it is that life robbed us of her presence far, far too early.
Other stories, too, it’s not like I’m at a loss for things to talk about - sports, Religion, Race, ha! I’ve got opinions, and I’m not afraid to share! LOL!
But it’s so fucking hard when every day… every fucking day… is a struggle. Pain 24x7 will do that to you, I guess, lol.
Ok, Duaner, what is it this time…?
So, I’d talked about some of my struggles before, the shit that I’ve been through (just scratched the surface, actually. Maybe one day I’ll go deeper. Maybe.), and my search to “get back on solid ground”. My search for a little relief from the pain.
And we’re not giving up, we’re still searching. After the latest round of RFA’s didn’t help, my pain doc wants to consult again with the original surgeon, so I reached out to him and we’ve scheduled a fresh round of X-rays and MRI’s, and I’ll go back in the next month for a new evaluation. They’re smart people, the pain doc and the surgeon. I’m confident if there’s a “fix” out there, we’ll hit on it eventually.
But my surgery was five and a half years ago. Five and a half years!!
I don’t want to say I’m getting desperate, but… [opens up thesarus.com looking for other words to describe “desperate”, lol]
There’s something that’s been tucked away for a few years now that I’m starting to warm up to… back in ‘22, I think it was, I saw a neurologist - an older little lady, Chinese, I think, she did a very through examination, and at the end her only recommendation was “ketamine”.
Okaaay, I thought. “Interesting! Let me clear it with my pain management doc, make sure he’s ok with it”, I replied.
I was intrigued, for sure, but I really did want to run it by some of my other doctors. You know, I wanted “all the cooks in the kitchen to work together”? (spoiler alert, they don’t.)
But here’s the thing - I rarely/ever/never got to see the actual pain doctor! It was always the fucking PA (physician’s assistant). Once I shied away from a “pain pump”1, he quit seeing me, quit trying to help. I’d see the PA - I’d go in once a month and pee in a cup, so she can write me a fresh script. I asked her what she knew or thought about ketamine, but she just shrugged. “You’ll have to talk to Dr. K about that”, she replied.
Yeah, right. Next time I get to see him, I will!
So it goes for a couple years, till I finally switch doc’s, looking for somebody that can actually help.
So, I’m seeing a Dr. Spicer now, and God bless him, he’s at least trying to help.
He’s coming at things from a surgical perspective, but at our very first visit he brings up “medical cannabis” as something to consider. “I can recommend someone who can get you on the “Tx Compassionate Care” list if you want?” (I just smile and laugh, lol)
He brings it up again on our second visit, and I’m like “ok, doesn’t hurt to be on the list”2, I think, and get that referral.
So I go see this new guy, the compassionate THC guy, and… not that it matters at all, but I can’t help but notice he and his staff were all Arabic of some sort. Wonderful people, and I don’t think I’ve ever been in a doctor’s office that was so beautifully decorated! lol!
So anyway, I tell him my story, and he’s got no problem helping me get signed up. While I’m there, I tell him “I’m open to anything that might help” and ask him “if he had any other suggestions? Anything else I could at least try?”
I was expecting acupuncture or something, but his only reply? “Ketamine”, lol.
So yeah, that was a couple months ago… it’s been brought up twice, by two different docs, maybe it is something I should look into…
So I start digging into it, doing my research.
For those unfamiliar with ketamine, it’s most often used (quite successfully, it seems!) to treat depression and anxiety, PTSD - psychological stuff.
Ketamine treatment clinics are popping up all over the place, I find out. There’s even “at home” options - you pop a lozenge, put on some chill music, and lay back and “float your troubles away”, I guess, lol.
So first I reached out to the closest local clinic I could find…
Yeah, they’re a real cluster. If your shitty website doesn’t even work, that tells me all I need to know. A “cash grab”, praying on all the depressed people out there, was my impression.
I reach out online to some of the “at home” places, and schedule a telly “consultation” - I tell them my story, and what I’m hoping to get out of it, and they’re both very sympathetic, but also “umm, you need stronger treatments than what we can provide”.
Well, fuck me!!, I think. “What the hell do I gotta do?” I ask myself. Hell, I’d be happy with just the “treating depression” part, even if I don’t get the magical nerve regeneration I irrationally hope for, ‘cause how on earth can you go through this without getting down, sometimes? But noooo! How ‘bout “FUCK ME!”, instead?
So yeah, that was mostly around the holidays, … did I mention somewhere recently that I’ve been pissed lately? lol
But this is where it gets good - I promise I’m leading up to something. (Like, yesterday…)
I had my latest appt with Dr. Spice the first week of Jan., and I’m going there, and I accidently step into the wrong office - “Compassionate Psychiatric Services”, right next door. “Oops, wrong office!” I say, and politely let myself out.
Anyway, I have my appt with Spice - he’s scratching his head, unsure why the RFA’s aren’t helping, and suggesting a consult with the surgeon… and while I was there, I bring up the idea of ketamine treatments with him, just to get his take…
“Yeah, I believe they do those right next door!”, he says. “Oh wow”, I’m thinking…
So as I’m leaving, this time I intentionally go in, and chat with the nice receptionist, and yes, they do indeed do full-blown ketamine infusion therapy there, and we schedule a consultation with the doctor for two days later.
That meeting goes amazingly well, one of the nicest conversations I’ve had with anybody in a very long time. This lady gets it, she’s passionate about her work and about helping people, there’s amazing work being done with psychedelics, she says… the world needs more people like her, I think to myself.
Anyway, she’ll need a letter from my PCP, make sure he’s ok with it, but I knew that wouldn’t be a problem - he’s more of a “rubber stamp” doc, leaves the heavy lifting to others.
So things moved pretty quickly, I get the approvals I need, and all of a sudden, guess what? I’m on the schedule!!! Full-blown ketamine infusion therapy, what have I got to loose?
My first appointment? Jan. 22 - yesterday!
Ok, so about these infusion appointments…
They deliver it intravenously, for maximum effect, over the course of a couple hours. You lay back in a chair, with eye shades on, and headphones… they suggest a couple different playlists - airy “space music”, or some light classical. But nothing with words, you’re not supposed to “listen” to it, as much as float away with it, I think.
And you’re not allowed to drive after, you’ll have nurses there to be your “sitter” during the infusion, but you need a driver to get you home.
Ok, no prob, the wife’s office is right down the road, she usually works from home but she can go in, drop me at the doc’s office and then go work for a few hours, and come pick me up around lunch time (the infusions are only Tue. and Thurs., in the mornings).
So… yesterday comes. Mother fucking yesterday…
Folks, I think I know what I’m getting into - I know ketamine is a psychedelic, and I’m wondering how similar or dissimilar it is to LSD, or shrooms, or some of those other things…
But I partied with Syd a few times back in the day (college!) - that turned out ok, I rather enjoyed it actually, so I’m not really worried about that part…
In fact, I’m actually rather looking forward to it! Deep down, I know this shit about “neuroplasticity” and “forging new neurological pathways” can only go so far - to expect any real, lasting improvement is very, very unlikely. Hope is nice to have, but com’on - I’ve got real, physical nerve damage. Kinda hard to fix, I know. Just trying to keep it real.
But at the very least, I know ketamine is a “disassociative”, too - you’re still in pain, but your mind just disassociates with your body for a while? (that’s how I’ve heard it described, anyway3).
So yeah, maybe it won’t help significantly long-term, but even a couple hours of “disassociating” with the pain, where it’s not front-and-center every single fucking waking minute… after five and a half MF’ing years… yeah I’ll pay good money for that!4
So, yesterday we get up earlier than we normally would (neither one of us are particularly “morning people”), hop in the car and fight traffic, and the wife drops me off at the doctor’s office before she heads to work.
So I’ve some paperwork to do, and the receptionist hands me a cup…
Oh yeah, I forgot the doc mentioned something about needing a urine sample at the start. “Make sure there’s nothing else going on”, mentioning cocaine specifically, lol. She had a great sense of humor, laughed at a few of my wisecracks, threw a couple back at me, great gal.
So yeah, I’ve got nothing to hide, I’m clean as a whistle, but I totally understand.
Here’s the thing, tho - I’d already taken care of business before I left home!
I go in the bathroom, and drop trou… and just stand there. “Look at you, little guy! I remember when you used to salute me every morning, now look at you, you pathetic little thing!”, I think to myself.
After a good 5 minutes or so, I go back to the receptionist and shrug… “I’m sorry, Mr. Barnes, but we can’t do the procedure without a urine sample.”
Well shit. So I go have a seat in the waiting room, and just wait. I make another attempt in the bathroom after a while, but nada. After an hour, I get up and walk over to the curtesy water cooler and try and draw a cup of water, that’s all I need, right?
Nope, can’t do that, either. “No food 8 hours before, nothing to drink 2 hours before”, is the rule, and they enforce it. (I think they unplug the water cooler on Tues and Thurs, too, ‘cause when I tried to draw water it wasn’t even working, lol.)
I end up spending a almost two hours in the waiting room, hoping, trying… but my pecker failed me, ha! Finally I text my wife, and she comes and picks me up and we head home.
Well fuck me!!! 😭 For Christ’s sake, I know I’m permanently fucked, but all I want is a couple hours of temporary relief, and I can’t even get that?!? 😭😭😭
Can somebody please come “un-fuck” me, please?
I don’t know, it’s like 6 years ago somebody slapped a “Hit me” sign on my back when I wasn’t looking. Maybe it’s “Punch me”, or “Kick me as hard as you can in the sack”, or something, but son-of-a-bitch I’d just like something to go right for a change, is that too much to ask? At least for an hour or two?
We get back home, and I send them the following email (I was already on the schedule for 5 more treatments!) - tell me if I was a bit too rude, or not? (yes, Duane, you were, lol)
Please cancel everything until after whatever lab work you need done is completed.
Fyi, in my humble opinion, it’s not smart to ask someone not to drink anything for hours before they come in, and not allow them to have so much as a sip of water when they get there, and then expect them to produce a urine sample out of thin air. Maybe get it done a day or two before? I’ll give you urine, blood, hair, a finger (not one of the good ones) if you need a pound of flesh, but I’m not a magician.
They respond back with patience and understanding, giving me several options on getting the lab work done.
But it gives me time to step back, and reconsider… do I even want to do this? To put myself out there, and allow myself to hope, just a little, if I’m just ultimately going to get kicked in the shorts for trying?
I slept on it, and I’ll sleep on it some more, but… yeah, I’ll probably go back and try it again.
‘Cause even just a couple hours of relief would be soooooo welcoming.
(Interestingly, the doc I had the teley visit with was a middle-aged white lady, but almost everybody else I encountered there - the receptionist, most of the nurses I saw, others coming and going - appeared Arabic of some sort… what, are they trying to corner the psychedelic market or something? 🤣
No judgements, just an observation, lol! Seemed like a wonderful place!)
So anyway… that was yesterday. Can’t just give up, gotta take it one step at a time, one day at a time. Boy, have I learned that over the years!
But can somebody please come take this sticker off my back?
Now if you’ll forgive me, I have to go pee5.
He wanted to use not morphine but some drug derived from the toxin of marine cone snails! I did some research, and yeah it might help with your pain, but it can also fuck with your mind, too. I won’t completely rule it out, but “um, can we maybe make that a last resort?”
Wrong! Benefits are so meager, and now I’m on their god damn list!!
According to my son, anyway (he was in the Army, I never was), ketamine has replace morphine as the battlefield painkiller of choice by the Army!
Not cheap, and not covered by insurance. Ha!
I promised you more bears! Ha! After I posted about it last time, I went back and re-watched that documentary again, a little more sober this time, a little less asleep… nah, I don’t think there was a dead bear in the water. They show him swimming off and running away, actually. (Maybe it was in my dreams that night? lol) Good, ‘cause I like bears! I don’t ever want to get that close to one, though, that dude is F’ing nuts! Peace, Cheers.