While it is true, there will always be a segment of the population that abuses ANYTHING and EVERYTHING, taking it out on people who really suffer with chronic conditions or injuries is a satanic game plan to force decent people into dangerous street drugs that ACTUALLY WILL HARM THEM.
But what they REALLY WANT, IS FOR PEOPLE SUFFERING WITH CHRONIC PAIN CONDITIONS WHO CANNOT OR WILL NOT GO TO THE STREET, IS TO COMMIT SUICIDE. Suicide because of chronic pain is NOW the NUMBER ONE REASON FOR SELF MURDER IN THE UNITED STATES, 2018. It was number37 on the list. Like all satanic agendas, death of humans is their number one priority and they will take every tract they can think of to increase those numbers. Abortion...tubal ligations...Morning After Pill...Pain medicine removal...and on and on.
The blood is on politicians, pharmacies, and doctors who are letting this happen. And the the cops love it. It means more arrests, more convictions, and that's big money for the police state.
from the web
When I was a kid, I had a diving accident that did permanent damage to my neck and back. The details aren't important -- it really is the kind of thing that could have happened to any sensible person -- but the result was that from ten feet in the air, I landed headfirst on a sandbar that was covered by just a couple of feet of water. I was completely vertical, like a Tom And Jerry cartoon. It hurt. And I didn't even get the dignity of a wacky *boing!* sound.
As a result, for the last 30 years, I've dealt with chronic back pain. At its worst, it feels like a star collapsed inside my body. Sometimes, though, it changes gears and feels like someone hammered a red-hot nail into my neck and left it there. When that happens, sneezing or coughing will send a lightning bolt up my spine, a jolt of agony that makes me feel like I'm going to piss my pants. That can last for weeks. I've had broken bones that didn't hurt like this. Other times, the muscles will suddenly get so weak that they just turn to Jell-O. Here, try this: Drop to the floor and do crunches until you physically can't anymore, and then keep doing them for several more minutes. The muscle death you feel, coupled with that pulsating burn? That's what I feel on most days, from sunup to sundown.
Of course, aspirin is a blood thinner too. Most over the counter "pain meds" are actually differing versions of blood thinners. Aspirin works great for headaches, because it reduces the blood pressure in the sinus cavity. Elsewhere, it does nothing. It's a placebo. A LIE.
Like Ibuprofen. A LIE. A blood thinner, nothing else.
That's the key to pain management: planning ahead and not doing the thing that causes you pain, and also remembering that nearly all things cause you pain. But you have to lie to yourself, constantly. Good at lying to yourself? Then it might work. Maybe.
For instance, I pace when I talk on the phone. I can't help it. This means a 20-minute phone call can potentially seize up my back so completely that I have to execute the sitting process in slow, gentle stages, looking like a GIF loading on a spotty LTE connection. The pain never goes away with pain management. You just have the pride in knowing that you must now live a life in pain F O R E V E R. But at least you are NOT taking the pain pills designed to help you live pain free. That way the satanic do gooders and fascist freedom takers can all pat each other on the back on what progress they are making in turning me and millions others, into street junkies to get some relief.
Of course, if I was smart, I would just stop talking on the phone forever. Or I could plan ahead by taking a few aspirin and toughing through that shit like a tank. I just need to cue up some Jeff Sessions and remember his inspirational words: "But, I mean, a lot of people, you can get through these things."
If there is justice, assholes like him will end up with bone crunching pain and hopefully, doctors that will instantly treat him like a loser junky. If there is justice.
Let Societal Scorn Work Its Magic
Over the past eight years, my wife has been through the following:
-- An injury that resulted in two knee surgeries
-- Her ACL torn right in half, resulting in a third
-- Chronic migraines that regularly send her to the ER
-- F'g brain surgery
When her ACL popped, she couldn't touch her foot to the floor without crying so hard that she was close to vomiting. After the first doctor visit, they sent her home with two ibuprofen and a pair of crutches. It wasn't until a week later that they did a scan and saw the tear. Between this and her original surgeries, the doctors said she'd likely be in pain for the rest of her life. Yet any time she complains to them about the pain, they look at her like she's trying to bullshit her way into some sweet, sweet drugs. As if she went into the joint and popped that ligament with a pair of bolt cutters just so she'd have the pretense to take an occasional flight on Opiate Airlines.
That is literally how they think now - mostly pharmacists who balk at filling prescriptions - and women doctors who support the Hildebeast. You know...witches. Tell me...how is it that someone with a 2 year community college degree knows better than a doctor who spent 20 years in school and surgery to get their license to practice medicine? Pharmacists all act like God now, knowing all, seeing all, and damn your doctor. I've heard four separate pharmies say that they know better than my doctor as to what I need for my and my wife's condition.
I get the same. Any time I have to ask for pain medication, it's followed with a suspicious look and "Are you sure the ibuprofen isn't helping?" I don't understand. Ibuprofen IS NOT A PAIN MEDICATION, IT IS A BLOOD THINNER, SAME AS ASPIRIN. Even though I'm just asking for weak-ass Tramadol (a synthetic opioid specifically designed to be less addictive), you can still get hooked on that. I'm aware that addicts fake their way into prescriptions all the time. I also know that they sell them on the streets, and to be perfectly honest, I'd have an easier time buying the pills off of them than getting them from an actual doctor. The doctor is the only one who will judge me as a piece of shit.
Truth is...the problem is NOT solved. The pain is there. And I've only allowed myself to become deluded by propaganda from fucking idiots. I've let the meme of our times control my reality and the system is on the side of stupid.
Trust The Professionals To Let You Know When To Endure Excruciating Pain
The absolute best way to stay away from opioids is to let the medical
profession do what it's currently doing: restrict the ever loving shit
out of them in a completely arbitrary way. For instance, did you know
that CVS announced in late 2017
that they would be limiting opiate prescriptions to a seven-day supply?
And that patients would have to try the immediate-release pills before
switching to the much more effective extended-release pills that chronic
pain sufferers need? Thank. God.
Here I was, worried about my own willpower and aspirin-taking toughness, when all I had to do was wait for doctors and pharmacies to step in and say, "We got ya, buddy. We will fucking die before letting you abuse your medication." I wish they'd take it a step further and just have me come in every time I need an individual pill. Just hand it out at the counter with a little cup of water, like Nurse Ratched from One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest.
Of course, "seven-day supply" doesn't really have much of a meaning. My wife's 30-day supply of Tramadol is 30 pills. Take a look at the instructions:
Don't Worry, Self-Care Is Your Ticket To Complete Opiate Freedom
Have you ever shopped for computer chairs at an office supply store?
They always have little tags with a single-digit number on them. If you
never looked up what those mean, they're "suggested hours of use." So if
the tag says "5," they're saying, "Don't sit in this for more than five
hours per day, you lazy, computer-using turd." I routinely work in a
computer chair for 18 hours a day. There are no computer chairs with a
rating of "18".
Now, if you're one of the rare people who does have a boss (loser), you should just explain to them that experts recommend that you stand for two to four hours during your work day, and you'll either need two desks (one for sitting and one for standing) or a sitting-to-standing desk for your office. Those generally only cost around $400. They should be fine with that.
You Will Definitely Become Tough and feel miserable all the time.
Here's the thing about chronic pain: It doesn't just affect you or
your throbbing body part. It turns you into a dick, because it's
impossible to maintain a positive, healthy state of mind when all you
can concentrate on is *throb, throb, throb, throb, throb*. Unless
you're showing exaggerated physical signs or you outright tell someone
about how much pain you're in, other people have no idea why you're
being a douche. They just think, "Man, screw that dude." People in my
situation usually know what it's like to ask for a promotion and be
interrupted with, "I'd really love to give you the position, but you
really are a piece of shit, Chad."
Also, chronic pain is often linked with depression, and the two feed off of each other like the Auryn, only made out of human shit. The pain makes the depression worse, and the depression robs you of the motivation and energy to manage the pain. It's a perpetual motion machine that often ends with suicide. "How tragic, he was always so sad for some reason." YES, MAYBE IT WAS BECAUSE THE ENTIRE TOP HALF OF MY FUCKING BODY WAS ON FIRE.
The upside is that if you survive a few decades of this, you'll be tough as hell. You could be catapulted anus-first into a cactus made of metal and be like, "Pfft. Just give me a couple of aspirin. I'll be fine." Hell, Jeff Sessions may even put you in one of his speeches.
"I knew a writer who couldn't walk the length of one shopping mall," he'll say. "His pain was so severe that he only slept a few hours per night. It gave him chronic depression. He had been in the hospital multiple times for nervous breakdowns. His kids learned to not ask him to go on long trips, because he couldn't physically handle the car ride. But by God, he didn't take opioids, because that man, he was as tough as a leather dildo." But thank God we didn't give him pain meds - too bad about his suicide, he must have been weak, what with those shattered legs and four frozen vertebrae. But at least he wasn't on pain meds, his orphaned children can be proud of that when they visit his grave. Nurse! Send in the next victim...er...patient.
You can find John at the cemetery.
Phillip Kuykendall from Statesville, North Carolina was a 63 yr old man, an active member of society and hobbyist whose doctor refused to prescribe medication for his pain disease. After a stay in hospital near Statesville where he went to have his pain disease assessed, he was discharged with no pain medicine. His brother, who was involved with helping him obtain pain control, went to Phillip’s home on December 29, 2016 and found Phillip dead with a self-inflicted gunshot wound in his head. “He took the last, and only, relief he thought he had left” said a person familiar with the situation.