The following is an edited version of my rendition of [part of] today. I'm way too tired and in too much pain to get creative, therefore I just pasted and edited the relative parts of the instant message I sent Christina.
My mom got me an appointment with Dr. Woodruff today. I held off on my meds long enough (about 10 or 15 minutes too long, if you ask me) to ensure that my jaw was good and hurting (heh...it'd been hurting before I needed to take my meds, so I was on the verge of tears by the time I popped my meds, which was right when he walked through the door).
Dr. Woodruff said that it would be perfect to do the nerve block (I told my mom that's what he'd do; she said that he wouldn't because he diddly squats around). So, he did the nerve block (which made those tears that I was on the verge of dropping come tumbling down). About 15 minutes later, once everything was all numb, he asked me if I was hurting. I said that I was. He asked where. At the same time we said "Inside my/your mouth." He stuck his finger in my mouth and pressed on one part of my joint (on the right side).
There?
No.
Pressed again.
There?
No.
Pressed again.
AHHHHH! [along with throwing an arm up to jerk his finger off of that point.]
Which concludes what we've all known: It is my joint (along with muscle pain) that is causing my pain. The only way to correct my joint is to have surgery on it.
Woo-fucking-hoo.
All of the blood work I had done for Dr. Woodruff came back. The good news is that I've got really high levels of Remeron, which might be one reason why I'm not currently featured on a "Got Bullets?" billboard right now.
The okay news is that my Baclofen levels are in the middle.
The strange and bad news is that my Neurontin levels are oddly low. And why shouldn't they be? I only take 4800 mg of that shit a day. The low levels might also explain why I begin craving my meds two hours in advance (which, once again, had Dr. Woodruff observing that I'm "like a crack addict.")
If I hadn't of been crying, I would've laughed.
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