To Those Who Hold My Quality of Life in Their Hands

To Whom it May Concern,

My name is Rachel, I’m 22 years old and live in Virginia. I have an incredible family and two dogs who are the light of my life, and I’m currently living at home on a “break” from college. I’m a recently self discovered artist, I love painting and photography, and I also have a blog. I love working out and swimming both competitively and for fun, my favorite places being Smith Mountain Lake or swimming holes in the rivers, I was born to swim 🙂 I also love driving the back roads with my music and the wind in my hair, I’ve always wanted a convertible. I plan to have a beautiful wedding dress; in fact, if there’s no husband by 35years old, I plan to go try on dresses and wear one because I CAN. I want to travel. I want to live.

I’m Rachel, I’m 22 years old, and I’m a chronic pain patient.

I’ve been sick for six + years, and I have a myriad of chronic illnesses that leave me feeding tube and central line dependent for all “food” and fluids, and with severe nausea and crippling pain every day. There are many days when I struggle just to leave my bed and walk around the small upstairs floor of my home. I sometimes go weeks without leaving the house aside from appointments or my mom driving me to see a sunset or flood or snowy site. I’m often unable to paint or work on my blog due to the pain in my hands and arms becoming overwhelming… I often can’t look at my phone or computer due to my sensory overload and my migraines.

As much as we chronic illness patients love to say that “our illnesses don’t define” us, in reality, symptoms like severe, crippling pain can leave you unable to move, unable to walk, unable to accomplish the simplest of tasks, including self-care/hygiene without the help of a loved one or a caretaker. It causes “painsomnia” aka insomnia caused by severe pain, which in and of itself can be debilitating. The pure exhaustion from being in such high levels of pain can also take over your whole self, body and mind, it can be a scary time if you aren’t able to get relief even just for a couple of hours a day.

I often tell people that I feel like this is a life sentence for the innocent. I feel like sleeping beauty, stuck in her tower waiting for her prince, but I’m stuck in my room and there’s no end in site. I’m the sick girl in the middle of nowhere, but I’m lucky to have parents who work so hard for me.

this is a life sentence for the innocent

Do you have children? Grandchildren? Siblings? Can you imagine watching one of them have a quick yet long term deterioration of their health, and left with daily struggles and little to no relief? Because you’re not doctors or pharmacists so I have trouble understanding why you get to determine who gets these meds and how much we can have….If you aren’t a doctor and you aren’t a patient or someone who has experienced this first hand, what gives you the right?

Last month my pain management doctor and I decided to change my pain management plan after 6 months of consistency, in part to my body’s ability to build up tolerances to medications with lightning speed and in part to the new restrictions on pain medications. With my high, high tolerances and severe, daily chronic pain, it can be extremely difficult to treat, and sadly, it’s about to get harder. Due to the acts of those who abuse drugs, most of whom are not even chronic pain patients, this battle to manage chronic pain and improve quality of life is becoming nearly impossible for those of us on this side of the crisis – those of us who use our medications as prescribed and take them only to help us function on the bad days.

It shouldn’t be so hard to get medications that can improve your quality of life, I struggle so much with that thought, why would they take away these medications when they can help us make life livable?

I hope that the government and the insurance agencies will one day realize how ridiculous this all is, and that they’re stealing whatever potential that I or any other chronic illness patients like me have for relief and a more “normal” lifestyle, taking away the ability to pursue my dreams and my goals without the fear of my pain becoming too much. In this process they’re also taking a doctor’s ability to do their job to the fullest extent right out from under them as they are no longer able to treat patients to the fullest extent or in the way that is best fit for that patient.

There are so many things I want to do in my life. Like any 22 year old, I have goals and dreams and desires, but I also live a life most people my age don’t even know exists, a lifestyle that most can’t even phantom. Sometimes I can’t even imagine what I would do with myself if I were to make it back to society, but I know I’d quickly pick it back up and value every day, every moment, more than any healthy person could.

More on the restriction/ a great article https://www.statnews.com/2018/03/06/cms-rule-limits-opioid-prescriptions/

My Opiate Crisis

The opiate crisis. Two words, so much baggage.

I think it’s reasonable to say that most individuals over the age of 15 living in the US today have at least heard something about the opiate crisis. Opiates are bad. Narcotics are addictive. They ruin lives and have a high risk for overdose. Opiates are a gateway drug and lead to use of street drugs & illegal self-medicating. (5th-10th grade health class, yah?) That’s what we learn about the opiate crisis, bad bad bad.

Opiates/narcotics can be dangerous…if used incorrectly or illegally. But for people like me, who are living with multiple chronic pain conditions, this opiate crisis is affecting our treatment plans and more importantly, our quality of life & ability to function.

That said, and all dramatics & sarcasm aside, for those of us living with chronic illnesses, the opiate crisis is not the same crisis that you hear about in the news or in a doctor’s office…

My opioid crisis involves trying to make the very limited quantity of pain medication last the whole month, every month….

and then I have to trek back to the doctor to try to advocate for myself and my needs when a change in dosage or medication is needed– I’m really shy/bad at confrontation and in person advocacy so this is a big stress for me.

My opioid crisis is struggling to make each dose last long enough; dealing with a connective tissue condition and genetics that make my body metabolize pain medications too quickly has made treating my pain very hard, high doses of pain meds are hard to get with all of the new FDA laws that are in place due to recreational users and ODs, which of course have nothing to do with my case, but laws are laws and now it’s been made my crisis, your crisis, and that of every addict or legal pain patient who uses these meds.

My opioid crisis involves choosing between being able to function during the day or being able to sleep at night. I’m an artist and a writer, but I can’t paint or write because of the pain in my hands, wrists, and arms. I can’t stand too long, sit still, or lay down without having severe pain in my back and hips. When does the pain end? What is more important, sleep or being productive and (semi)functional during the day?

My crisis means facing the consequences of others’ actions; I don’t abuse drugs nor do I purchase them illegally or without a prescription. I use pain meds because I am unable to really live without having a way to try to manage the pain, no different than how I work to manage my nausea or my migraines, any of my symptoms that can affect my quality of life.

My opioid crisis may not be “normal,” but it’s real. I know so many other girls going through these trials, we are lucky to have each other, but the stress and the guilt and the disappointment from disappointing doctors and failed treatments or lack of access to medications can be overwhelming. There are no words to explain how deeply the system can affect us– and not just because of opiates.

I would love to find something aside from narcotics that would relieve my pain effectively. I want to paint for hours with no shooting pains in my arms, hands, or back, and I want to type without my wrists feeling like they’re black and blue with bruises every time they hit the laptop/keyboard. I want to sleep all night and run a full bag of tube feeds without waking up in too much pain to sit up.

I don’t want to be on narcotics. I have so many goals, and none of them include narcotics, but they also don’t include severe, widespread joint and nerve pain. I also understand why there are strict rules on medications like narcotics. I wouldn’t want them to be easily available to everyone. But that doesn’t mean that those who are truly, legitimately suffering– whether it be acute (post op, injury, car wreck) or chronic (fibromyalgia, arthritis, ehlers danlos syndrome, CRPS, etc.)– should have to continue to suffer when there are actually medications that could make a difference!

Not all of my conditions have treatments. Not all of my symptoms can be managed. So if I find something that helps, and I have doctors saying it makes sense, why does it have to be so damn hard to get a hold of these medications? This system is just mind boggling sometimes.

I want to be a person, not a patient, not a statistic in a research study, just Rachel.

That’s a glimpse at my opiate crisis.