Two Hours to Go ’til Home
Enroute from Bancroft to Ottawa, 2002
Eyes closing,
As I drive.
Dizzy,
Nauseous,
So very tired!
Impossible to stay awake.
A danger to myself.
A danger to others.
Parked now,
At the side
of an isolated northern highway,
Dozing in
and out,
Struggling towards wakefulness.
Zombie-like effects of medications:
Percocet –
Oxycontin –
The Fentanyl Patch –
Gaba Pentin –
Hydromorphone –
Vioxx –
Amitriptylene –
Lyrica –
Cymbalta –
Naproxen –
Tylenol with Codeine.
Whatever concoction,
Whatever mix,
I’m on now.
Who knows,
There were so many.
No cell reception,
Isolated,
Anxious,
Still struggling towards wakefulness,
Two hours to go ‘til home.
And the pain, of course.
Always the pain.
The story of my life now,
Pain,
Medications that do little good,
Side effects that devastate.
A new young doctor.
He’s never been in pain.
Says he can help me.
All sorts of options.
“We’ll” experiment, he says.
The “we” meaning “me”.
15 minute visits at most,
A new prescription.
Or, more often,
More than one.
And off I go,
And the pain goes on,
The side effects too.
And here I am
At the side
of an isolated northern highway.
Dozing,
Anxious,
Struggling towards wakefulness,
Two hours to go ‘til home.
These are such scary situations. All the medication, the side effects, the masking of pain so one can cope with everyday life. I am thankful you’ve come through these things you write about, to still be here, to be able to reach others who might need encouragement is inspiring Wendy.
Thank you for these comments and for being such a good friend. It means a lot to me.