Palliativity 107: What Does’t Kill You…

what doesn't kill you

For 2 years I’ve been self-injecting lidocaine as my only means of direct pain management that is not a narcotic. M357 is merely the void. My other meds are like background-radiation resonating from the initial injury; god’s white-noise machine, his hand fumbling for snooze.

Every drug claims a part of me. It’s time to take it back.

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I had my first Prolotherapy treatment two days ago. The underlying concept is built on the function of  histamines and the body’s immune-response. When the body detects damage, whether illness or trauma, histamines are released and the chain-reaction begins. To heal, the affected areas become inflamed which results in higher blood flow. It always baffles me when Western and Eastern medicine speak the same language.

Prolotherapy intentionally provokes the histamic reaction. My body has settled into its current state; chronic pain is not recognized as an antagonist. It has literally become a part of me. The concoction injected is comprised of saline, lidocaine and sugar. The catch is that in order for the treatment to work I can’t use ice, ibuprofen or M357. Disarmed, I scan the perimeter for the next attack.

I feel like I’m stuck in another MRI, unable to move and hoping that temporary suffering will help me find new hope. How does it feel? Like a knife jabbed into the side of my neck. Inotherwords? Not as bad as normal. The difference? I know that this pain I feel is a wake-up call to the system. This is a shock-and-awe campaign. We have an intruder among our ranks and the only solution is to

cut it out.

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