nimbledriver81 said:My neighbor lives with RA. He’s only 40 and stays incredibly active—swimming, rock climbing, volleyball, you name it. He also recently quit smoking. He told me that when he was first diagnosed back when he was just 9 or 10, he simply decided he wasn't going to let the disease win. I really respect that mindset.
That's a great outlook... unfortunately, every case is different. It isn't just about age; how the disease progresses varies wildly from person to person. Some people face much harder battles than others. That story is just one example.
My mother deals with a very severe case of rheumatoid arthritis that started back during her college years. She's disabled now... there isn't much more to say. In the beginning, we went through endless doctors and countless treatments, but nothing worked. The condition just kept progressing and eventually caused significant damage to her joints.
Mrs. X had abdominal surgery, and everything seemed fine with the procedure. The surgery was technically a success, but... the patient felt pain every single time she sat down, especially while driving.
The professor—one of the top specialists—told her it wasn't a big deal; some patients just have a lower pain tolerance. This dragged on for about 16 months.
But this woman knows exactly what her pain threshold is. Eventually, she switched primary care physicians and DEMANDED an X-ray.
And what do you think happened?
A 7-inch surgical instrument had already started healing inside her body. The professor who performed the surgery claimed they count every instrument used, but insisted they'd never leave something that large behind—not even an idiot would do that.
Mrs. X can drive without pain now... she isn't hypersensitive.
Second case!
Another patient saw a leading specialist, a Neurologist. The symptoms were hard to describe, so the experienced Neurologist diagnosed them with Multiple Sclerosis.
The patient asked if it might be wise to get a second opinion or an X-ray. About five or six years later, after moving and switching primary care doctors, the patient was referred to a new specialist. The new doctor, just to be safe, ordered a spinal MRI.
BINGO... the patient had a massive growth—a cyst—that was crushing their nerves. If they had just had surgery 2 to 4 years earlier, they’d likely be walking and healthy today.
P.S. For any serious diagnosis, I always seek at least two opinions. If it involves the spine, I'll go as far as three or four specialists.
Until next time... there are plenty of stories like this. I don't mean to shame doctors over minor things, but the errors that leave people disabled are much harder to stomach.
Emily Rodriguez8 Ugh, tell me about it. I felt the exact same way at first—it all seemed too good to be true. I’m on day ten now, and honestly, my biggest craving has just been for a cigarette. I was incredibly close to lighting up, but I kept telling myself how stupid it would be to throw away ten whole days of progress if I slipped up. Hang in there, you can do this. 👍
I quit 17 years ago (I used to smoke 60-80 a day). To be honest, I could still light up today, but I’m terrified of the health consequences. The hardest part for me is right after a meal. I mainly quit for my son; he was 13 at the time, and I realized I couldn't exactly ask him not to smoke while I was standing there with one in my hand!
It wasn't until I saw the X-rays and scans that I truly understood the damage—seeing those clogged arteries changes everything.
driftingheron42 said:I didn't see this happen personally since it was so many years ago, but my family still talks about it. My grandmother smoked for years... two packs every single day. Then one day... at a family gathering... she just announced to everyone: "I'm done smoking as of today," and she never lit another cigarette. Anything is possible... but man, she was a tough woman.
Did she drop dead from the shock right then and there???
placidjackal97 said:regarding - the option for a woman to have an abortion, legally and under humane conditions
I personally would never do it, regardless of whether I were single or with the father (though that plays a small part), but having the choice is essential.
I completely agree regarding the possibility for a woman to have an abortion, legally and under safe, humane conditions.
My only thought is that since the pill is available to everyone today, we shouldn't be reaching this point so often. I understand condoms are necessary for preventing STIs, of course.
Forty or fifty years ago, it was legally permitted here in America, though only through a doctor under specific conditions.
A lot happened privately back then—it could be a midwife, someone acting on their own, or a gynecologist. It really just depended on who you knew and what you could afford. Another thing is that STIs weren't nearly as dangerous back then, so condom use wasn't as widespread.
There were many abortions because living conditions, housing, and finances simply weren't what they are today. Many people might claim they'd never do it, but if they had lived through those times, things might have been different.
Nowadays we have the pill, and once we have children, contraception options include sterilization for both men and women.
I have a funny example. I had a Vasectomy when we had our second child (I was 35 at the time), and just a few years later, my wife had a Hysterectomy.
Speaking from my own experience, after my Laminectomy, I was only bandaged for three days. After that, I just took normal precautions, didn't use any special dressings, and the wound healed up perfectly fine quite quickly.
At the same time, about a week before the surgery, I had a testosterone injection. It caused an immediate reaction—felt like it was burned or scalded—and even ten weeks later, it hasn't healed. I went to see the doctor at the hospital, and they claimed they had covered the site with some kind of surgical tape before the procedure... but nobody would listen to me until I actually dug a piece of foreign material out myself. I’m pretty sure there’s still more in there, but good luck arguing with doctors. I might have to cut it open again just to get the rest out. Everyone keeps insisting the reason it won't heal is because I'm on steroids, which is nonsense. If that were true, why did my Laminectomy incision heal so fast?
Usually, whenever I’ve dealt with an injury—and I’ve had plenty—my routine is always the same: electrical tape first, then wash my hands or feet, disinfect everything, and apply some penicillin powder to the open area.
spavanje said:Since the dawn of humanity, we lived in direct contact with the earth, which kept our bodies naturally grounded. As we entered the modern era, that connection began to fade. Today, we wear synthetic soles on our shoes and live in high-rise apartments, further insulating ourselves from the ground. This becomes a major issue because, at the same time, we're exposed to much higher levels of radiation and static electricity throughout the day. Since that charge can't dissipate into the earth, it builds up in the body, leading to various health issues. Static electricity speeds up calcium metabolism, which accelerates fatigue. It also depletes Vitamin C, causing blood sugar spikes that lead to even more exhaustion. This is one trigger for autonomic imbalance. When static buildup from clothing discharges through the skin, it can cause irritation like dermatitis. Plus, accumulated static easily attracts dirt, germs, and bacteria, resulting in unpleasant odors and further skin damage. Static electricity interferes with digestive enzymes. It hinders the absorption of vitamins and minerals into the bloodstream. It disrupts electrical activity at the cellular level, causing protein plasma to build up around cells, which leads to that all-too-familiar feeling of fatigue and low energy.
And what about socks? Not to mention they're mostly synthetic, so they just "collect" and build up static through friction. Are you guys still wearing them?
So, let me get this straight: insomnia, chronic pain, herniated discs, beds—and now static electricity too?
It seems to me you had the willpower to quit. You stumbled a few times when faced with different challenges, but you had the strength to pull through in the end. In my view, the most vital thing—the only thing that matters—is realizing it's harmful and having the genuine desire to stop. During your sober periods, did you ever attend Alcoholics Anonymous meetings? Did you find support from people who have walked a similar path helpful?>
Since I was 28 years old back in 1969... I'd say I slipped up a couple of times, but that’s not what counts. I never went back to the lifestyle. Sure, at my kids' weddings, I might have had two glasses of champagne, or maybe a beer or two on a sweltering hot day... but that was it. I never lost control or returned to heavy drinking. Back when I was living in Denver from 1966 to 1969, I made a promise to myself. I started cutting back—from every day to twice a week, then once a week, slowly tapering off until I stopped completely. It was still tough when everyone else was drinking and I wasn't, but eventually, everything changed when we moved to Australia.
No, I never sought advice from anyone or joined Alcoholics Anonymous. For me, what worked was seeing my happy wife and my six-year-old son, and simply starting a new life.
It's hard to say. Alcohol destroys lives all over the world, but how many misunderstandings, family conflicts, financial ruins, or broken childhoods does it cause?
I wish I could offer more practical advice, but first and foremost, a person has to actually WANT to stop living like an alcoholic. And that is the hardest part... and then, despite the social pressure and your surroundings, refusing to pick it up again.
Well, here we are again after a long time. I can empathize with doctors, specialists, and pharmacists, but I just can't wrap my head around people who act without thinking twice. I’m still reeling from a mistake I made today; I called my psychiatrist again, but she told me there isn't much she can do except suggest we just endure it... both me AND my wife, because the effects are hitting me too. My pharmacist has access to software, but he didn't bother using it. Instead of checking his computer, he just gave me that "poor guy, one more pill" attitude. I actually figured out the issue via the internet by the third day because I know which medications shouldn't be mixed, though I didn't have the energy to go looking for answers during those first two days. I keep my own list of drug interactions, but honestly, I've been reading so much about these illnesses that I think I lost the link.
In any case, this isn't the first or last time I've had a bad reaction to medication, but unfortunately, I have to stay on all of them for the rest of my life.
Right now, I haven't been able to take anything for the pain for seven weeks. My stomach is fine, but I've become incredibly sensitive to medication—I guess that's just age. Some people can't handle anti-inflammatories for more than a month, yet I've been dealing with this for 34 years.
Anyway, how are things with you? Are you still waiting on your surgery?
I spent my entire childhood working, even though I was living in Washington, D.C. starting at five years old. Back when I was working physical labor on our construction site, I could knock back about a liter of wine a day in the sun while mixing concrete without even feeling it. I was only 14 at the time, and my old man was the one handing it to me.
I started out as an apprentice, and then it was all about the veteran foremen. You’d work like a dog for a day or two, but once they decided it was time to start drinking, the sessions would drag on for days. We were working on construction sites, getting paid by the job, and I was only fifteen years old—already knocking back liters of wine like some kind of scientist. That was the "education" you got from the old-timers: if you weren't drinking, you weren't a real pro.
And that’s how things went. I was pretty withdrawn back then. Instead of going out to parties, I spent my time drinking and working out in the field. I met this wonderful woman and ended up marrying her. She had no idea I was an alcoholic; she just thought I occasionally went out for a drink here and there, since I never drank at home.
We got married and lived together in a tiny studio apartment right off Broadway. I was an alcoholic back then. I’d show up home drunk, and before my wife could even get through the door, I’d find a way to sober up just enough to start drinking all over again, only to end up wasted once more.
She finally realized I’m an alcoholic, though I never let it show when I'm home. When my child arrived, I stepped up. I was a great dad, doing everything I could to stick to my diet while making sure I supported my wife through it all.
I headed back out into the field, but things just reverted to the old ways. Once the market got involved, everything started heating up again. I used to have my own workshop, too.
Back in 1966, my wife told me we couldn't keep living like this. She’s out there working and managing our entire diet, while I wasn't contributing anything financially or helping with the meal planning.
I headed out to Denver, Colorado... though I have to admit, my hopes for us staying together were pretty slim to begin with. I was told that if I want any chance at all, I need to quit drinking. After that, we'll see.
I won't go into too much detail about those three years. I spent them cutting corners and testing my limits with alcohol. Eventually, I managed to quit. But it wasn't easy—when everyone else in my apartment building would head out for lunch drinks, I really struggled. I realized that if I wanted to actually make it, I had to change my environment, find a new circle, and start my life over from scratch.
Luckily, my wife trusted me—even if she had her doubts at first—and we ended up moving to Australia back in 1969. I landed a job almost immediately once we arrived. I didn't bother socializing much; I just kept my head down and went straight from home to work and back again. My brother-in-law had been drinking, and things got messy. He assumed my wife would handle all the cooking and the housework while he went to work, leaving the two of us to sit around and drink for a while. We shut that idea down pretty quickly. I told him straight up that I was here to start over and that I was done with the booze. We had a falling out because of it, but I’m sticking to my word and staying sober.
I hadn't touched a drop in about six years. Then one night, I was working over at my father-in-law's place. He was drinking and kept pressing me to join him. I gave in to one glass, then another, and before we knew it, we had polished off two liters of bourbon. Even now, nearly thirty years later, I can still feel that burn in my stomach.
I didn't touch a drop until 1980. We took the whole plant out for our Christmas dinner that year, and everyone was giving me a hard time. They were calling me an idiot, insisting I show them what I had in me, so I ended up knocking back three liters of vermouth. Once you're an alcoholic, you're an alcoholic for life.
It's been 24 years since I last touched or drank a drop of alcohol. I've been feeling so under the weather lately that I'm practically living on a mountain of pills. It's enough to knock anyone sideways. Still, I know plenty of people who manage to balance drinking and taking medication at the same time.
I've known plenty of people who passed away around age 60 due to complications from alcoholism, liver disease, and various heart issues.
Everything is subjective, really—it all depends on how much you actually want it. But let's look at the context and the crowd. Most of us are just social drinkers. We might have three to five drinks or a bottle of beer a day, but that doesn't make us alcoholics.
Do you all agree with this? The answer is simple: these people have the same issues, they just haven't dug deep enough to face them. They aren't alcoholics.
I drank for 14 years. I'm not proud of it, but I will say this: becoming an alcoholic is far too easy.
I think I can finally speak on this now. I quit at twenty-eight. If only I could have escaped the fallout from my struggles with alcohol... though, in all fairness, I also bear the weight of those few years of marriage that were so incredibly hard on my wife.
It’s hard to give advice when everyone’s situation is different. We all have our own circumstances and environments to deal with. I know that, for my own sake, I had to step away from certain things to protect my family. My goal was simple: I wanted to be a skilled craftsman, a good father, and a reliable husband. I just wanted to stay positive and be a man of my word.
I’m not sure if I was actually much help, but I feel pretty good about getting this done. Looking back at my old mentors—most of whom have passed on now—it’s hard not to notice they were mostly failures, alcoholics, and liars. In my experience, those things tend to go hand in hand.
It’s actually refreshing to see that there aren't actually that many people struggling with psychiatric illnesses; instead, it's mostly just folks preparing to see a doctor or looking for treatment—especially those who ask for advice and then immediately follow it up with nonsense!
Adelaide, May 18, 2004 I'm feeling pretty great today!
When it comes to knowing who to trust in medicine, I have a rule: I never take a doctor's word at face value. I always run everything by two or three different specialists first. Only after I’ve gathered enough second opinions am I comfortable deciding for myself that everything is actually fine. That’s exactly why I went through all that training—to see just how much you can actually learn without having an MD.
I was just at the Pain Clinic... and I received my last shot at the medication. Amitriptyline / Lidocaine / Endep 25 mg The pills are antidepressants...I've been on antidepressants for 13 years now, currently taking 20mg of Aropax/Paroxetine twice a day. Today is the one that gives me plenty of trouble, but it’s also the only thing that actually works for me.
It isn’t the first time the clinic has prescribed me an antidepressant or epilepsy medication. Pills or capsules tend to be more effective since they actually target the brain's pain management system.
The doctor situation has changed. My first doctor was an Indian specialist—a highly qualified anesthesiologist. I was really happy with his work, even if he had a bit of a heavy accent. The new guy is very young; he just finished his training and took a position at the Pain Clinic while continuing his studies to become a neurosurgeon. Good luck to him, I guess.
He gave me enough tablets for one week. The plan is to start with one every night, then taper up to one every three days. I’ve actually been through this before—I've tried about ten different types over the last year just to see what works.
The staff at the clinic have my current medication list on file, which I always make sure stays up to date. My wife asked the doctor if he was absolutely sure about my other medications, given how many I'm currently on, and specifically if it was okay to take them alongside the Aropax. He wasn't exactly thrilled about the question, but he reviewed the full list and assured us there were no issues. He noted that this is really everything he can offer to help me right now.
I took my first pill last night... within two minutes, I was completely "done." Things settled down after about fifteen minutes. Once I took my usual evening dose of other medications around 7:00 PM, I started feeling some chest pain. I knew what to expect since I’m adding another very heavy medication to the mix. I told my wife that if this keeps up, I'm not sticking with the second one—by the third day, I'm out.
I didn't have the energy to sit at my computer and dig through the data last night, but something just felt off.
The next day, I headed over to my pharmacist with the package in hand. I asked him to add this new one to my current list so he could double-check that there wouldn't be any issues interacting with my other medications.
Once he saw I was coming from the Pain Clinic, he told me there was no need for that pill; he said it was just for pain management. I wasn't too happy that he didn't save everything to the computer and was actually asking for comparisons.
I took another pill last night thinking it might actually help. When I took the second one, things didn't feel quite as bad, but it definitely messed with my head. My memory felt off, and honestly, I started losing control to the point where I began seriously questioning if the pill was even working.
I haven't been feeling great lately, but honestly, it’s nothing out of the ordinary. Between all the different medications I'm taking, I deal with dizziness, stomach issues, balance problems, or blurry vision pretty frequently.
All in all, I had one drink a night for four nights straight, and the next day I told him that... I honestly don't know what kind of pain I'm dealing with, so I'm not going to touch those medications.
I took some time to dig around online, and I realized pretty quickly that both antidepressants actually belong to two different drug classes. It’s honestly no surprise that they hit me so differently.
I saw my psychiatrist today. She actually expressed surprise that I hadn't gone in to get my records sorted out sooner. Apparently, she’s seen plenty of people make the same mistake before. She told me she was actually surprised I didn't end up in the hospital, considering how much that combination of four pills plus the Aropax was hitting me. In other words, some young doctor completely blew it... he was asked clearly, he thought he knew what he was doing, and then he made a massive mistake. Does that mean I don't trust doctors? Of course not. Am I wrong for feeling this way? Not at all. Is it just me, or does this happen more often than it should? I'm sure I'm not the only one going through this!
My doctor advised me to stay on those four pills for another four days. She suggested I hold off on making any big decisions regarding my medication for at least a week—basically, wait until things settle down and I can get back to my usual self.
She mentioned that if I switch over to Amitriptyline, I'll need about a month to taper off the Aropax by gradually lowering the dose. Then, I should take a couple of days off from everything before starting the new medication.
She left the decision up to me regarding which path to take, since this isn't my first time pivoting to something new.
As a patient, I know my own issues inside and out, and I know exactly what I have to endure to get back on my feet... BUT DOCTORS NEED TO BE COMPOSED AND CERTAIN ABOUT WHAT THEY ARE PRESCRIBING INSTEAD OF ACTING LIKE GODS, especially if they're relatively new and should be triple-checking everything.
I'm sure everyone makes mistakes occasionally... honestly, it would take me about five pages just to list all my grievances and the errors made by doctors.
Back when I worked at the steel mill, one single mistake on a control circuit could have cost hundreds of thousands of dollars—and I would have been out on the street!
A person's life is priceless.!!!!
In no way am I taking this personally, except for that coward over at the Pain Clinic... the one who thinks he’s a GOD!
Best of luck to everyone dealing with illness. To those of you who are healthy, stay that way, because nothing can replace your health!
Forwarded from Jamie Clark74 regarding a pain crisis...
It’s been seven weeks since my surgery. I’m happy with how the procedure went, but it really comes down to what the Neurosurgeon said... is it actually worth it?
The surgical site itself isn't bothering me much; if I had to rate the discomfort there, it’s a 3 out of 10, which is fine. But walking is just as brutal as it was before. Every time I move, the pain hits me hard—I’d rate it a 7 or 8 out of 10.
That tingling and skin sensitivity I get in both legs has come back, but for the first time, it’s started spreading to my upper body. Arachnoiditis... most likely?
I was at the Pain Clinic on May 12th, and honestly, I'm running out of options. I'm trying one last thing from the standard list... the antidepressant Amitriptyline/Lignocaine/Endep. For now, I'm just taking one pill at night, though I might eventually need to bump that up to four.
I don't know. I'm already juggling about 23 other pills I need to take... and this one made me feel absolutely terrible for the first three days. It was actually harder to deal with than taking Morphine. We'll see how it goes, and how my body reacts moving forward.
Depression is just another byproduct of stress. When you’re dealing with prolonged stress, you tend to cycle through several stages: first comes the agitation, then resistance, followed by exhaustion, and eventually, depression sets in. Once someone hits the absolute limit of their capacity, depressive symptoms start to surface. The realization that you simply can't manage the pressure anymore is often what pushes a person straight into a depressive state.
Here is an extensive link covering everything regarding American Stress, fatigue, and how it leads to depression.
I see everyone is debating all the different conditions covered in this thread, so I figured I’d weigh in—maybe some of this will be helpful to someone.
My wife and I have our follow-up appointments with our psychiatrist every six weeks, starting May 18th, 2005.
As I mentioned before, I've been dealing with chronic depression, anxiety, panic attacks, stress, and certain personality traits for about 13 years now.
The truth is, my condition isn't likely to fully resolve because there are several other underlying issues feeding into it.
For instance, I've been managing chronic pain for 34 years, along with Asbestosis, Arachnoiditis, and Apnea.
That said, I am staying on top of things with medication, which allows me to maintain a relatively normal life (as much as one can).
It's not perfect, but it's better than the alternative; if I hadn't kept things under control, I would have faced much worse consequences long ago.
