My solution

I've been diagnosed with chronic pain for twenty odd years. It began small and then kept adding on through the years. 

First that crushed disc at C3 and a degenerated hip. Had those repaired. Then lumbar stenosis and L1 crushed in a stupid accident. Physical therapy and a brace for a long time.

Then the litany of minor things, like rheumatoid and osteoarthritis. No cure there. Left shoulder replacement. Then a tibia fracture, couple of years later my femur. Add to all this, acquired leg length discrepancy, now about an inch. Every step hurts my back.

I consumed a lot of ibuprophen and went to physical therapy. Eventually I cycled through rheumatology and on to pain management. Pain management began about ten years ago.

I started with Lyrica and then a "mild" opiod. I researched the bejammers out of the latter before I agreed. I was prescribed Belbuca, "the drug we prescribe for withdrawal from addictive opiods".

For the first time in a long time my back was manageable, my arms, legs and hands quit hurting. I took up weaving again because I could catch and throw a shuttle. Life was just fine.

I moved from my township in Summit County in 2022, to this senior complex in Portage County. I drove the twenty or so minutes back to my Summit County doctors until I decided the car was becoming too expensive. I traded out all my old doctors for doctors I could access from my new residence.

My first pain problem was that not one of the new doctors would prescribe Lyrica. Either they were not authorized or just would not. I was referred to at least four new pain practitioners, none of whom prescribed pain medications. I could explain their reasoning but don't care to. It basically came down to what I call "old people medicine."

And I no longer have Belbuca to keep me moving. I was still seeing my old pain management practice, but the price of Belbuca was rising exponentially. By 2023 my co-pay was $300 a month. Way out of my ballpark. The pain folks had no alternative. So, I quit.

It wasn't the worst thing I've ever been through, but it did remind me of all the reasons I always refused prescribed pain meds. If you take them you must withdraw if you stop. So, I spent a sleepless week. But that was a couple of years ago.

I went back to my ibuprophen habit. 400 mg in the morning, 400 at night. When doctors complained and had no alternative I said "Deal with it". The same thing I told my primary years ago, when she thought I should quit butter. "I eat butter. Deal with it."

Sadly, my self prescribed doseage no longer works. I seldom sleep the night. I have not seriously thrown a shuttle in more than six months. I've switched from my walker to my rollator so I can sit down on my way to anywhere.

When I was young I occasionally heard my father say "I've dug a hole and pulled it in behind me." I feel like I've done that myself, and I like it less and less. 

I've arranged to get a new shoe lift to ease walking a bit. I've had them in the past and hated how inefficient they are. But my daughter located a supplier who purports to make a more flexible lift, so I'll give it a try.

And, I've make an appointment to see a new rheumatologist. Maybe I'll find some help. That appointment isn't until July. In the meantime, I'm avoiding typing. I'm looking forward to being done with this confession. My hands hurt, my arms, my shoulders, my back. It's such bullshit.

Long story short, I'm mostly off posting. I'm still at the head of the activist rolls, letting my fellow senior anarchists know what boycott is in effect and what issues need letters. Would you believe my MAGA state government is trying to move libraries from independent funding to a line item in the state budget. Bastards. When the federal funds to Ohio are gone so is Peninsula's library.

All is not gloom, however. It is spring, snow nothwithstanding. The daffs are up, the birds are back. From a window I can see through at supper there are a lot of hawks riding the air currents. 

On my way to breakfast I generally stop and rest at the big windows overlooking a court yard. It's where I can see the white cat, Happy, if he's soaking up rays in his window. But this week a hawk landed on the retaining wall outside Happy's window.

A plethora of sparrows live in the row of arborvitae past the wall. I've seen several hundred shoot out of the row of arborvitae, like a curtain of birds. Suddenly the hawk dived into the greenery and came out with his breakfast. I think it's a Coopers Hawk. He's been here before and a hall mate took this picture.