By Christopher Matthews, Guest Columnist

About two and a half years ago, I began to feel a tight painful knot on the side of my neck. Any movement would trigger an intense shock up the back of my skull to the top of my head. Ultrasound, MRI and X-ray scans all came back negative, so we tried anti-inflammatory medications, ice, deep tissue message, chiropractic, and some lifestyle changes.

Over the next few months, the pain began radiating to my cervical spine and intensified. No OTC pain medication was touching this pain.  It felt like a hot steak knife was lodged in my back. The constant, unbearable pain and symptoms of neuropathy seemed to indicate that some minor disc bulging in my spine may be more severe than we thought.

It took 4 months to get an appointment with a specialist in neurosurgery at a prominent hospital in Massachusetts. The surgeon looked at me for 5 minutes and ordered more tests. They found some abnormalities in my arms and legs, but the imaging didn’t warrant surgery. They recommended that I see a neurologist, which meant waiting another 5 months for an appointment.

During the interim, my primary care doctor wanted to be proactive. She was the only one taking me seriously. I did physical therapy 3 days a week and about a dozen courses of oral steroids. I was hopped up on cortisone for months. I also had a series of injections into my spine. None of it seemed to help.

I finally saw the neurologist, who ordered another MRI, which showed the bulging discs in my back were getting worse. But I was still not a candidate for surgery.

I’ve now been hospitalized 4 times due to loss of function, pain flares or passing out from pain in public places. The pain is that bad. Some days I can’t even get out bed because my knees won’t work. Some days I have close to no use of my arms, because my elbows are on fire. I’ve been getting more and more bacterial infections.          

My primary care doctor is the only one who believes my pain is real. She showed mercy and set up a pain management contract with me. We started with 5mg hydrocodone/acetaminophen 3 times a day. I had never touched an opiate before in my life. What a relief! I was so happy I could cry, just for a few hours of pain relief.  

I got a second opinion from another neurologist, who ordered more imaging and blood tests. The images came back as they have in the past, but the blood tests also showed there was severe inflammation – a possible sign of autoimmune disease. So off to rheumatology I go. 

After another 5-month wait for an appointment, the rheumatologist orders more blood tests and an in-depth panel for autoimmune disease. Eight of those tests come back elevated and 4 of them are so high they’re alarming. I think to myself, “This may be terrible news or it may be good news. Either way, I’m finally getting a diagnosis.” 

Not even close. I get all these test results sent to me in an app, with a message from the doctor saying everything “looks fine.” He suggests aspirin and ibuprofen, and that I get off the hydrocodone.  

I lost my temper at that point. How dare you insinuate I’m drug seeking! Like I didn’t try every other option first. All those needles driven into my spine, the steroids, and off-label antidepressants. The months of physical therapy, chiropractic and emotional therapy, all before finally resorting to actual pain medication. 

Some of these doctors and pharmacists with their discriminatory attitudes and actions are disgusting. If it was about the drugs, I’d drive 10 minutes into town and buy them at a fraction of the price I pay at the pharmacy.  

This whole ordeal between deductibles and loss of wages has easily cost me over $100,000. I could have done so much with that money. My wife would have her student debt paid off by now. Instead, it all goes into the for-profit healthcare system. We’re not patients, we’re profits.  

Being on opioid medication now for 2 years, I cannot function without them. Without my pain medication, I feel like someone with industrial grade tools is trying to physically remove my head from my neck. 

CVS is a nightmare and the other pharmacies aren’t any better. They give you that look when you walk in or call to check on a prescription: “Oh, it’s you again. We spoke last month. You’re too early. We know why you people do that.” 

Excuse me, but I’m allowed to pick up my medication the day before I am out, so that I have medication available when I wake up the next day. So that I don’t have call you at 9am when you get in and then have to wait until 3 in the afternoon to pick it up. 

For a while, CVS was taking GoodRx coupons, which cut my insurance price in half. Recently, they told me there’s a new state law that prescription coupons were no longer valid for opioids. I checked with the state and no such law exists. The pharmacist does have the right to turn coupons away, but they flat out lied to me and said it was someone else making them do it.   

The number of days I’ve gone into withdrawal with brutal pain I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. All because CVS can’t find the prior authorization or they don’t tell me they are out of stock until I’m at the window to pick it up. Or some other excuse they can drum up. Just so they don’t have to give this “junkie” his drugs. It’s sickening.   

Now, all of a sudden, I can’t get hydrocodone of any dosage at any pharmacy within 50 miles of me. And none of them know when it’ll be back in stock. I found one pharmacy that had a three-week supply of hydrocodone, but by the time I got it called in and got there they said they only had two weeks supply for me because another patient needed a week.  

I’m officially up shirts creek without a paddle and don’t know what to do. I’m in the most pain I’ve ever felt in my life. It is 24/7 and unrelenting. It’s destroying my life, my marriage, my chance at children, my business, and my finances. I get sent from one specialist to another, and at each stop on the merry-go-round they extract $5 to $10 thousand from me in out-of-pocket tests.   

I’m not sure how much longer I can take it.  

Christopher Matthews is a pseudonym for the author, who asked that his full name not be used. He is 35 years old and played 3 years of professional soccer after graduating from college.

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