Feel the Pain...

Sitting on blue matting, directly opposite young boys, he says, “Keep your legs straight and spread your feet out as wide and far from your body as you can. Like this.” The boys imitate the young man’s movement. He continues talking as they groan but eventually relax in their new positions, then says, “Okay, now let’s all reach with both hands to grab hold of our right foot.” “It hurts,” whines one of the boys attempting the move. “Yeah. Yeah, it hurts a bit. But not that much, right?” It was a phrase I would hear him repeat, when appropriate, as his young gymnastic students complained of discomfort. 

*** 

Only hours into her surgical recovery, I help her sip water when a nurse enters to perform a routine check, involving putting gentle pressure on the surgical area. I see the fear on my friend’s face as she overreacts to the simple procedure. When the nurse finishes I take my friend’s hand and say, “Don’t be afraid. She’s in the healing business. She would never do anything that would cause you harm.” The nurse, seems surprised and asks me to repeat my words. I repeat them. “That’s correct,” she responds and turning to my friend, “I’m trying to help you, not hurt you.” Later, my visit over, I pass an open room down the hall where I hear the same nurse saying in a soothing voice to a different patient, “Don’t be afraid. I’m in the healing business…." 

*** 

When I was a teen in the 1960s, there was a physician in Chicago's Edgewater neighborhood, who would write drug prescriptions to anyone with the $5 cash-only fee he charged for an office visit. I accompanied a friend, for moral support, as she endeavored, unbeknownst to her parents, to obtain Dexedrine, having decided it would help her lose weight for an upcoming senior prom. When we arrived, (no appointment necessary) we found a line of about 20 adults in queue outside his office door. He worked without office help, and seemed to have a never-ending line of patients. Fascinated, I craned to get a better view of Dr. S***. He looked, to me, to be 70+ years in age, was white-haired and frail. In his dimly lit office I could see outdated medical equipment, so that you might expect to also see dust and cobwebs upon them. On a table near a worn exam platform was an antiquated infant scale. Who would allow their baby to be placed upon it? Atop the desk was a dated Bell System black rotary dial telephone and a blotter, upon which sat his prescription pad. One of the patients, upon leaving, gave a smile and “thumbs up” to those waiting. My friend said that when she handed Dr. S*** the cash fee, he immediately dropped it into a partially filled-with-cash medical bag sitting on the floor. She’d no problem obtaining her  prescription. No questions were asked when she presented it to the nearby Walgreens pharmacy. This was to be her only foray into illicit drugs. She attended her prom, graduated, married and raised three sons. 

  

***

It’s with interest that I recently read about the new legislation regarding the (CDC) Center for Disease Control and Prevention’s new painkiller guides aimed at reducing the addiction risk associated with opioid prescriptions. The statistics are alarming. Prescription drug abuse is classified as an global epidemic and as the world’s largest consumer of such drugs, the U.S.A., is the world’s biggest addict. 

If so, let’s stop the television and radio ads that constantly promote prescriptions for every single ailment known to humans. The world has followed our lead regarding the banishment of cigarette ads from the airwaves. 

The pattern for drug dependency begins early, as we are given the idea that pain, illness and physical problems can be easily “fixed” with a pill. Let us keep drug use, both over-the-counter and prescription, at a minimum. Store them out of sight of yourself and your family. Use medicines judiciously, as a last resort.

Favor a buddhist-like attitude that acknowledges that some pain and suffering are a fact of life. “Yeah, it hurts. But not that much, right?" I don’t advocate withholding pain relief to patients recovering from complicated surgeries, patients with serious or end-of-life cancer treatments, and such. That is what the opioids are meant for. But, I think for many of the rest of us, there is some merit to the words of an interviewed pharmacist, who said “We are becoming a nation of wusses.” 

I didn’t watch much of this year’s NFL Super Bowl, as I was busy preparing food for guests, but when I walked into the big-screen-TV-filled room, I saw a commercial for a drug to help those with “opioid-induced constipation.” So, now we are promoting drugs to help us combat the side-effects of the drugs to which we’ve inadvertently become addicted? Seriously?!? 

I’m inspired by a young female friend who, two years ago, had a serious back problem that threatened her career, and was immediately offered Vicodin or Percocet by her physician. She quickly found another physician. She recovered and retained her job thanks to exercise therapy and an occasional over-the-counter pain pill. "It’s called 'pain management' for a reason," she explains, "It takes awareness, acceptance, planning, and effort to keep it manageable." 

Opioid painkillers like OxyContin, Percocet and Vicodin have become the most widely prescribed drugs in the U.S.A, with sales nearing $2 billion annually (according to a research firm that collects prescription data). Many opioid-prescribing primary care physicians have little or no training as to their proper use. Find yourself a physician who recommends opioids only as a last resort. 

Curious as to whether my recall of Dr. S*** was accurate, I google and find this blurb in a news article on “the welfare queen.":

"Dr. G**** S***..., who is now deceased, had agreed to stop practicing medicine in 1970 to avoid prosecution on charges of “selling dangerous drug prescriptions to youngsters.”

*** 

Last week I was reaching for an object, no strain, just a simple extension of my arm when a searing pain shot through my back. Unable to bend, Reliable Husband tells me the color drained from my face. I’d recently read about the therapy of walking for managing back pain, so I stayed mobile, walking  as much as possible. The next evening, still in pain but reasoning that “Yeah, it hurts a bit. But not that much, right?” Reliable Husband and I attend a large social gathering, where it was easy for me to walk about, chatting with acquaintances. A women, attached to the medical business, asked why I’d not been at Ladies’ bowling league earlier and I explained my back pain. As the evening ended and I was preparing to leave, she whispered, “If you need prescription-strength pain pills, just let me know.”

Egad!, I thought, Dr. S*** lives on!

[Here is my previous blog on addiction: http://topeacenquiet.blogspot.com/2014/02/not-once-not-even-one-time.html ]