I have been taking Lortab 10/500 four times a day for my RA and Fibro and my doctor just prescribed a new medication called Nucynta 100mg and wants me to try that instead. Does anyone have experience with this medication? It was only FDA approved 3 months ago so I’m a little hesitant in taking it. I’ve done some research online and have read that for some people it’s wonderful and for some people it’s a nightmare (which seems to be the case with any drug, right?!). ANY information, good or bad, would be very much appreciated! Thanks!
When you mention the D-word (discrimination) in connection with people with disabilities you get the funniest reactions. People sort of wince, they cringe, they even get angry and \ question your conclusions. It’s as if they have accepted the concept of discrimination against other groups like racial minorities, women and aboriginal people, but there’s a huge stumbling block when presented with the concept related to disability.
Years ago, while sitting in a large jury pool waiting room in a San Francisco courthouse, a man in a wheelchair next to me was approached by a staff member and told that he was dismissed, that he had fulfilled his obligations.
He was (rightly so) quite upset, and demanded to know why he was being dismissed. The staff member informed him that any amount of jury duty would be beyond his physical abilities. I was so proud of him when he shot back, in a loud voice so that everyone in the room could hear, that he and only he was able to determine what his physical abilities were.
Later that night I was so upset by what I had witnessed, that I could barely sleep. The next morning, as soon as offices opened, I contacted this courthouse and submitted a written complaint, for the record.
Okay, so I’m a 37 year old man who got over my fear of shots a long long time ago.
Sure, I still remember, as a young child, being in the doctor’s office with my mother, and immediately bawling upon any mention of a needle or an injection.
But other that those few years early on, I don’t think I ever had any fear of getting shots. (Of course, I’m referring to the “usual” shots in the shoulder or in the hip, and occasionally in the mouth while at the dentist…)
Over the few months, my rheumatologist has more than once referred to the possibility of joint injections as part of my short-term treatment plan. Even though part of me tried to tell myself that they were indeed going to be necessary, another part of me just felt too scared to consider this reality.
When I left to my afternoon appointment with my doctor earlier today, I sort of had a feeling that today would be the day, especially in light of the problems that I have been having with my left knee.
I was right.
I got a steroid injection in my left knee.
My doctor, in his usual manner, left the decision up to me. To be honest, I was once again ready to chicken out…but with a little prodding from my companions who were in the room, I decided to bite the bullet and move forward with the procedure.
While it certainly wasn’t pleasant, it also wasn’t nearly as bad as I had made it out to be in my mind. (And even though I didn’t make a peep, I did do my best silent scream ever–three times in a row–in a performance that was certainly worthy of an Oscar.)
As I walked out of that office late this afternoon, the little boy inside of me could not have been any prouder. Here’s hoping that the steroid injection will provide some much needed relief in my left knee.
Stay tuned…for the next adventure of Rheumatoid Arthritis Guy!
“What made Kathleen Turner right for the part?” he said. “In a word, I needed a broad, and when you think of a broad, you think of Kathleen Turner.”
Ms. Turner is 56 now and has not attempted to roll back the numbers on her odometer or hide the wear on her tires. “I’m late middle aged, honey,” she said recently, neither bragging nor apologizing. She suffers from rheumatoid arthritis, for which she has had to take powerful medication for years, and went through a well publicized period of alcohol abuse. She has had so many operations on her knees and feet that she calls herself bionic.
“You don’t ever want to go to the airport with me,” she said. “I always set off the alarm, and then they have to pat me down.” She shook her head. “While they’re doing it, they say these sweet things like ‘Oh, I just love your work.’ ”
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