Why I Am So Ashamed of Canada

By Ann Marie Gaudon, PNN Columnist

As far as countries go, I have lived almost the entirety of my life believing that Canada had a fairly good track record for upholding human rights. Of course, we’re far from perfect, but when I looked around the world I still felt grateful for where I am.

I no longer feel this way. Now I feel a deep shame for Canada and I believe that history will show this era with a rather large black mark etched in its pages.

Unfortunately for all of us, politicians and bureaucrats do not have a great history of getting things right. And they’ve really blown it this time.

We’ve got a real problem. Canadians are dying like never before from a tainted illicit drug supply. These political players never cared about people overdosing until they began dying en masse.

The government’s answer in the past was to round them up and put them in jail. Yes, punish them for being impoverished, mentally ill, homeless, and victims of sexual and physical violence. Punish them because they were neglected, abused or abandoned and consequently suffer from addictions trying to cope with their miserable lot in life.

Now they are dying from drug overdoses – far too many and far too quickly. The government’s answer: Let’s lock up and throw away the key to the prescription medication cabinet!

Instead of solving one deadly drug problem, now we have two.

Logic would dictate to policy makers that to solve the overdose problem, one should go straight to other countries such as Portugal that have done a good job of saving lives. Yet what have they done in Canada? They’ve jumped on the frenzied, anti-opiate, lunatic fringe bandwagon. Instead of listening to progressive professionals and those suffering from addiction, they are hell-bent on blaming pain patients and their medications.

Has this helped? Well, as prescriptions continue to decrease, and pain patients suffer more and sometimes die, overdose deaths continue to soar.

I invite you to join me in my personal attempt to spread awareness about the worsening plight of the severely pained in Canada. It isn’t a pretty story, but it’s one that has to be told.

I’ve created four informative videos and uploaded them to YouTube. My personal story is the first video and also includes the state of chronic pain in Canada in 2018. In the second video, I interview my friend Beth who had unethical medical treatment forced upon her. It is incredulous what the Ontario College of Physicians and Surgeons (CPSO) has done to Beth – and they accept responsibility for nothing at all.

Beth tells her story below:

Next up is Dan, who has been a chronic pain patient stable on pain medications for over 20 years. He is no longer stable. The CPSO terrified his doctor, who in turn forced Dan to decrease his medications. Dan is not doing well as a result.

Finally, Paul explains how he organized a town hall meeting between framers of the 2017 Canadian opioid guidelines, a representative of the CPSO and a few others. These folks were to be “silent attendees” and listen to severe chronic pain patients tell them how enforcing the new guidelines has negatively impacted their health and lives. The whole idea was admirable, but Paul ultimately learned the hard way that the lives of severely pained patients don’t seem to matter at all to the people who decided these issues for us.

So now you have an idea of why I am so ashamed of Canada. I would love it if you would listen to these stories and spread them far and wide. People need to know what’s going on here. I would also appreciate your comments. Let’s stick together, there’s always strength in numbers.

Ann Marie Gaudon is a registered social worker and psychotherapist in the Waterloo region of Ontario, Canada with a specialty in chronic pain management.  She has been a chronic pain patient for 33 years and works part-time as her health allows. For more information about Ann Marie's counseling services, visit her website.

The information in this column should not be considered as professional medical advice, diagnosis or treatment. It is for informational purposes only and represents the author’s opinions alone. It does not inherently express or reflect the views, opinions and/or positions of Pain News Network.

The Abyss of Chronic Pain

By David Hanscom, MD, PNN Columnist

One afternoon, I was listening to a pain patient attempt to describe the depth of her suffering, and it hit me how dark and deep this hole of chronic pain can be.

I had a flashback to my own experience with pain. Not only did I not know how I ended up in that level of misery, I had no hope and wasn’t being given any answers. I kept descending deeper and deeper into darkness.

Words couldn’t come close to describing my physical and mental suffering, but the image that came to mind was a deep dark abyss. I will never forget what it was like to be there and trapped in the abyss for over 15 years.

One night, I was driving across a bridge when suddenly my heart began to pound.  I couldn’t breathe, began sweating and became light-headed. I thought I was going to die. It was the first of many panic attacks. And it became much worse. I sank into a deep depression.

I honestly had no clue at the time that my anxiety and other symptoms were all linked together by sustained levels of stress hormones, such as adrenaline, cortisol and histamines.

I couldn’t sleep because of endless racing thoughts. My ears were ringing and my feet constantly burned. I began to get migraine headaches weekly. My scalp itched, and skin rashes would pop up all over my body and then disappear. I experienced intermittent crushing chest pain.

As unpleasant as these physical symptoms were, it wasn’t the worst part of the story.

I began a relentless search for answers. What was happening to me? My life went from being a hard-working young physician with a bright future to just trying to survive. As a spine surgeon in a large city, I had access to the best medical care and underwent all sorts of imaging and blood testing. No one could tell me what was going on. I became increasingly frustrated and moody.

After seven years of this, I lost my marriage. No marriage could have survived the obsessive energy I was using to try and escape from the abyss.

My anxiety progressed to a full-blown obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD), which is characterized by repetitive and vivid intrusive thoughts. It was brutal. I had always thought that OCD was a joke, but it may be the worst mentally painful experience in human existence. I looked up the treatment and prognosis for it, and it was dismal.

My mind began to play tricks on me. I become an “epiphany addict.” I was sure I could find an answer if I looked hard enough. I read book after book, saw doctors, tried different medications, practiced meditation, and discussed my situation with anyone who would listen. That number grew smaller, as people got tired of listening to me and I became increasingly socially isolated.  

Every aspect of this experience was miserable but the loneliness I felt was the worst. Being alone, I had more time to think about my misery and became fearful that people didn’t want to be around me. I hadn’t realized how terrible being lonely could be.

I wanted to quit being a doctor, but my instincts told me to hang on. I still enjoyed performing complex spine surgery and running my practice. I liked my staff, colleagues and patients. In retrospect, that may have been the one thing that provided the structure to keep me going. My personal life had disintegrated.

As I write this column, I still feel woefully inadequate to find the words to characterize the intensity of my suffering. I was in this hole for over 15 years and crossed the line to end it all.

Learning How to Feel Good Again

Then in 2003, I picked up a book by Dr. David Burns, called “Feeling Good: The New Mood Therapy.” It’s about self-directed cognitive behavioral therapy.  Burns was adamant from the beginning of the book that the key to recovery was to start writing. His format is a three-column technique where you write down your disruptive thoughts, categorize them into one of 10 “cognitive distortions,” and then write down more rational thoughts.

I began to write for hours and for the first time in 15 years felt a shift in my mood and thinking. Burns is right, the act of writing is important. There are now over 1,000 research papers documenting the effectiveness of this approach.  

Six months after I began this therapy, I connected (badly) with my deep-seated anger and was completely miserable for about 2 weeks. But as I emerged from this fog, I began to feel better. All of my physical symptoms eventually disappeared, including my headaches, burning in my feet, anxiety, and tinnitus.

It all goes back to the stress hormones. When you are trapped by anything, especially pain, your body is exposed to sustained levels of stress chemicals and each organ will react in its own specific way. Today, my symptoms remain at minimal levels unless they are triggered, and I have learned how to quickly return to feeling good.

There are many additional layers to the healing journey that are presented on my website. Each person will relate to the concepts in a different way, but the outcomes have been consistently good. There is a recent research paper that shows simply learning about the neuroscience of chronic pain can significantly reduce it.

I got incredibly lucky and feel fortunate to be able to pass along these healing concepts to my patients. It has been an unexpected and rewarding phase of my career.

Dr. David Hanscom is a spinal surgeon who has helped hundreds of back pain sufferers by teaching them how to calm their central nervous systems without the use of drugs or surgery.

In his book Back in Control, Hanscom shares the latest developments in neuroscience research and his own personal history with pain.

The information in this column should not be considered as professional medical advice, diagnosis or treatment. It is for informational purposes only and represents the author’s opinions alone. It does not inherently express or reflect the views, opinions and/or positions of Pain News Network.

The Role of Suicide in the Opioid Crisis

By Roger Chriss, PNN Columnist

Suicide is an under-appreciated factor in the opioid crisis. Media reports rarely mention it, and pundits and politicians often ignore it. But the reality emerging from experts and a careful study of drug deaths shows that it is very important.

“We’ve done preliminary work suggesting that 22 to 37 percent of opioid-related overdoses are, in fact, suicides or suicide attempts,” Bobbi Jo Yarborough, PsyD, an investigator at the Kaiser Permanente Center for Health Research, told HealthItAnalytics.

Yarborough’s estimate is 2 to 3 times higher than the CDC’s. The CDC’s Annual Surveillance Report of Drug-Related Risks and Outcomes states that there were 5,206 suicides among the 47,105 poisoning deaths in 2015. This represents a suicide rate of 11 percent. The CDC gives similar data for 2016 drug deaths, estimating that only 8% were suicides.

Recognition of the importance of suicide in the opioid crisis has been slow to come.

In 2017, then-president of the American Psychiatric Association, Dr. Maria Oquendo, suggested that the suicide rate may be as high as 40 percent, writing in a guest blog for the National Institute on Drug Abuse (NIDA) that the risk for suicide death was over 2-fold for men with opioid use disorder and for women it was more than 8-fold.

Now, finally, interest in this issue is growing. The American Foundation for Suicide Prevention recently issued its first grant for studying suicide related to opioid use.

Kaiser Permanente also recently received a grant from NIDA to “examine the role of opioid use in suicide risk and develop better tools to help clinicians identify patients who are at highest risk.”  Kaiser researchers plan to use machine learning and analytics to predict the likelihood of a suicide attempt within 90 days of a primary care outpatient or mental health visit.

Fundamental questions about suicide in the opioid crisis remain to be answered.

"No one has answered the chicken and egg (question)," Dr. Kiame Mahaniah, a Massachusetts family physician, told NPR. “(Do people) have mental health issues that lead to addiction, or did a life of addiction then trigger mental health problems?”

Similarly, people with chronic pain disorders are thought to be “at increased risk for suicide compared with the general population,” as noted in a 2018 PAINWeek conference presentation.

But causality is also uncertain. At present it is not clear what proportion of suicides in the opioid crisis are due to despair, anxiety, addiction or the increasingly poor quality of pain care. There are many anecdotal reports of pain patient suicides, a tragically ignored feature of the crisis.

These distinctions are critical for public health policy in the opioid crisis. Current policy is largely geared toward restricting the opioid supply and monitoring legal pills after prescription. This does little to address underlying mental health issues, illegal drug use, or the impact of psychosocial or economic circumstances on people.

We need a clearer understanding of the opioid crisis, and that includes suicide.

Roger Chriss lives with Ehlers Danlos syndrome and is a proud member of the Ehlers-Danlos Society. Roger is a technical consultant in Washington state, where he specializes in mathematics and research.

The information in this column should not be considered as professional medical advice, diagnosis or treatment. It is for informational purposes only and represents the author’s opinions alone. It does not inherently express or reflect the views, opinions and/or positions of Pain News Network.

My Guidebook for Living With Chronic Pain

By Mia Maysack, Guest Columnist

Chronic pain can mean a lot of different things, depending on its severity on any given day as well as the seriousness of the condition that causes it. Those of us of who live with it are already at somewhat of a disadvantage, as opposed to others living more carefree lives.

Chronic migraines, for example, make it difficult for me to be able to complete even the simplest of daily tasks due to the confusion, pain, overall sensitivity and over-stimulation they cause.

This creates a mandatory “go with the flow” approach to life due to the unpredictability of symptoms. Plans, appointments, dates, commitments, family gatherings and social activities -- not to mention work -- are constantly needing to be changed, rescheduled or canceled. That gets old fast for us, as well as for everyone our absence affects.

There's no limit to how great of a ripple effect that can have. I have a personal nagging guilt I carry in my heart each time it happens. In an effort to alleviate the pressures, I've gotten to the point where I do my absolute best to avoid making plans.

I may live mostly feeling “under the weather” but at the end of the day and all throughout it I am still a person. I have agendas, hopes, dreams and goals, so please understand the disappointment and frustration I feel from continually placing everything on hold and being powerless to stop it.

Picture this: A thief breaks into your home in the middle of the night. Imagine watching this person tear your home apart, destroy so much of what you care about and worked hard for, yet you are unable to do anything to control the situation or make it stop. That criminal for me are my migraines. They steal a lot from me.

Several times now, I have had a successful life built only to witness the big bad wolf of head pain come and blow it all down. Then I am confronted with gazing upon the ruins my life and reflecting on how much it took to get there in the first place. I then decide that dwelling in the past will not fix or solve nothing, so I take a deep breath and clean up the mess yet again.  

There has never been an employment situation that has not been impacted by my illness. I'm a worker bee, but pushing myself so hard for so long has resulted in an inability to continue onward with my aspirations. The realization of not being able to live up to who you want to be is a tough one. One cannot refrain from inquiring within, “What is wrong with me?”

All the while, outsiders have the same question, most with a tinge of disbelief: “She looks and seems fine. What, if anything, is really wrong with her?” 

Taking Care of Me First

One of the greatest gifts I've ever given myself is taking care of me first. Whoever is meant to stand by you through this treacherous journey will always be understanding when you do. 

Think of it this way: When you know someone that you care about is feeling unwell, what do you do?  You offer support, advise them to rest, take the time they need, and do whatever is necessary for the sake of their health.

We as chronic pain sufferers deserve the same compassion, empathy, respect and self-care.  I've learned that forgiveness, patience and grace for ourselves is just as important as having those qualities available for others. 

Never once have I had a medical professional ask how I am doing in terms of coping with this heavy burden of a life-long condition. It has been an excruciating process to get to where I am now. There is no guidebook for living with chronic pain. So I created my own.

I prefer to find the positive in changes as they come and to not worry or over-analyze them after they've arrived. For me, it's all about finding the joy, beauty and blessing in the given moment. There is always something to be appreciated and admired.

There's no doubt that an underlayer of sadness accompanies our ailments and it's important for us to understand that is completely normal. It's also crucial to allow ourselves to truly feel that grief. There's no expiration date or time limit on learning how to deal with this crappy hand we have been dealt. We keep our poker faces on as we figure out how to conduct ourselves because folding up or giving in is will never be a suitable option. We are tough and have come too far to do that.

When it gets to be too much and you're not sure how much longer you can hold on, raise your stakes and tell the universe: “Let's do this. I am all in!”

Mia Maysack lives in Wisconsin. She is lives with chronic migraine and cluster headaches. Mia is a proud supporter of the Alliance for Headache Disorders Advocacy and was recently honored by the U.S. Pain Foundation as its “Pain Warrior of the Month.”

Pain News Network invites other readers to share their stories with us. Send them to editor@painnewsnetwork.org.

The information in this column should not be considered as professional medical advice, diagnosis or treatment. It is for informational purposes only and represents the author’s opinions alone. It does not inherently express or reflect the views, opinions and/or positions of Pain News Network.

Finding Common Ground With Another Pain Sufferer

By Peter Warren, Guest Columnist

I felt like a brother to a lady in Arkansas, after reading how Teresa Brewer has fought the battle against chronic pain caused by the extremely-rare retroperitoneal fibrosis (RPF), also known as Ormond's Disease.

After being weaned off opioids in March, Teresa is housebound and in unrelenting pain. She missed her daughter's wedding and misses seeing her two grandchildren. "I have no life," she wrote in her PNN column.

PETER WARREN

Teresa’s column jolted me. First, because I have also suffered from RPF for more than 10 years and had beaten the pain only by taking heavy doses of methadone. Secondly, because she underlined a major medical problem facing pain patients in the U.S. and here in Canada.

Teresa wrote that her primary care doctor had sent her medical records to 17 pain doctors, hoping they’d begin treating her. Not one has accepted her.

God, I thought as I read her sad story, I was lucky that my own doctor prescribed methadone for me so many years ago.

Like Teresa, I was also recently weaned off methadone and soon began having severe pains in my right leg and around my heart.

My doctor took tests, had me back into her office, and told me I now had Long QT Syndrome and would be prescribed twice daily doses of another opioid.

For the past several weeks, I have been oh-so-fortunate to be switched from one long-acting painkiller, methadone, to another long-acting painkiller, Hydromorph Contin, the latter probably for the rest of my life.

In a day and an age when so many patients across the U.S. and Canada are complaining about pain care and opioids being unavailable to them, I read of Teresa’s sad and painful journey. And I quietly gave thanks that painkillers have allowed me to proceed through a high-paced career in print, radio and TV journalism, into the joy of a quiet retirement with the woman I love.

Peter Warren lives in Victoria, British Columbia. In addition to his work in journalism, Peter was a radio talk show host and private investigator. He is a member of the Canadian Association of Broadcasters’ Hall of Fame.

Pain News Network invites other readers to share their stories with us. Send them to editor@painnewsnetwork.org.

The information in this column should not be considered as professional medical advice, diagnosis or treatment. It is for informational purposes only and represents the author’s opinions alone. It does not inherently express or reflect the views, opinions and/or positions of Pain News Network.

Diversion of Blame and the Opioid Crisis

By Richard Dobson, MD, Guest Columnist

The war on drugs is so frustrating and confusing! Why are people in pain forced to suffer? It just makes no sense!

I often see those comments from people who suffer from diseases or injuries that cause severe pain. I often feel the same way. But after years of bewilderment, I have come upon a clinical description that seems to describe the plight of people who suffer from chronic pain. Let me try to simplify this complicated and mystifying condition.

First, a brief overview of the current situation. There are five basic groups of people involved in the opioid crisis:

1. Pain Patients

These are the people who have medical conditions that cause them to suffer daily with torturous, disabling chronic pain. Many have found that opioids have given them a new lease on life, reducing the pain and enabling them to have some quality of life.

Then the CDC prescribing guideline came along and formalized a process in which these valuable pain medications were often withheld and pain sufferers were shunned by doctors.

2. Doctors

Doctors and other healthcare providers who prescribed opioids to treat chronic pain became targets of regulatory and legal sanctions. Some were forced out of practice by the suspension of their licenses. Others went to prison under the guise that they “overprescribed” opioids with no medical justification. Those who were not targeted chose to eliminate opioid prescribing or discharge patients who would benefit from opioids.

3. Drug Abusers

These mystifying actions occurred against a background in which an epidemiologically distinct group of people were becoming addicted and dying in increasing numbers. This group includes those who abuse opioid prescriptions, although most are using illicit substances such as methamphetamines, cocaine, heroin and fentanyl.

4. Drug Dealers

The suppliers of illicit substances, including those who produce fake pills and lace them with deadly poisons derived from fentanyl. The Drug Enforcement Administration has labeled them “illicitly manufactured opioids” (IMF) and they are now responsible for about 3 out of every 4 opioid overdoses. In Massachusetts, IMF’s are involved in an astounding 90% of overdoses.

5. Regulators, Insurers, Politicians and Media

The regulatory and enforcement agencies from federal, state and local governments, as well as politicians, insurers, news media and addiction treatment advocates, have all promoted actions that target chronic pain patients and the dwindling number of doctors who treat them.  It is this group that has the ultimate power to take effective action and disrupt the deadly supply of IMFs.

Diversion of Blame

Here is the basic scenario which entails a massive effort involving diversion of blame.

The drug abusers in Group #3 are dying in record numbers, even as opioid prescriptions have declined. These alarming deaths are caused primarily by poisons illicitly produced and distributed by the drug dealers in Group #4. But the regulators in Group #5 remain virtually silent about the IMF market and instead chose diversion of blame, targeting patients and doctors in Groups #1 and #2.

The consequences are horrible. People in Group #3 continue to die at escalating rates. People in Group #1 suffer horrible enhanced torture and many are having suicidal thoughts. And doctors in Group #3 are being driven out of pain management.

It is truly a bizarre scenario! But there is an actual medical condition that would help explain or at least describe these events. You have to keep an open mind and try to look at things with a perspective that is not warped by old, preconceived ideas. But here it is.

Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy

What if, instead of pain patients in Group #1, there were a group of children? And what if, instead of regulators and enforcers in Group #5, there were parents and caregivers? Ignore the other groups for the time being.

The same scenario -- only involving children, parents, and caregivers -- becomes a classic case of Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy. Those in a position of power (parents and caregivers) are imposing a factitious disease on children.

The official name for this condition is Factitious Disorder Imposed on Another (FDIA), a psychiatric disorder in which a person repeatedly and deliberately imposes an illness on someone else, even though they are not really sick.

In the case of pain patients, it is the regulators and enforcers who have FDIA and erroneously portray patients as responsible for the increasing number of overdose deaths. Patients are made to look like they have some disease that they do not have.

In the pain community, I believe there is no argument about this falsification and diversion of blame. Most people who take opioid medication are not drug addicts, just as most doctors who treat them are not drug dealers. Most pain sufferers and doctors have no idea how to even obtain IMFs.

While FDIA is classically used to describe the abuse of a child by a parent, the diagnostic criteria are not limited to child abuse. The criteria apply equally well to the abuse of people with chronic pain: The imposition of a factitious disorder (addiction, drug diversion) on a group of people who do not have that disorder (falsification of the medical condition) by someone in a position of power (the cohort of regulators, insurers, politicians, news media, and the addiction treatment community).

Factitious Disease Imposed on Another is both a perfect metaphor and a diagnosis for the ongoing diversion of blame in the opioid crisis -- the culprit that enables the medical torture of patients and perpetuates the rising overdose death toll.

Looking at the opioid crisis as another form of FDIA would give society a formal platform to make a more realistic assessment of pain patients who are falsely labeled as addicts and drug dealers. It could also serve as a framework to end the diversion of blame and redirect it towards more effective and constructive action.

Richard Dobson, MD, worked as a physician in the Rochester, New York area for over 30 years, treating and rehabilitating people suffering from chronic pain, mostly as the result of work or motor vehicle accidents.  He is now retired.  

The information in this column should not be considered as professional medical advice, diagnosis or treatment. It is for informational purposes only and represents the author’s opinions alone. It does not inherently express or reflect the views, opinions and/or positions of Pain News Network.

Disabled by the War on Opioids

By Michael Emelio, Guest Columnist

I am 53 years old and have severe disc degeneration spread throughout my spine and scoliosis in my lower back. As if that weren't enough, I've also been diagnosed with fibromyalgia.

I have been on opioid medication since 2001.  For over a decade the meds helped reduce the pain enough so that I could still work 40 hours a week, including some heavy lifting. But in 2013 the DEA shutdown the doctor I had been with for over 12 years, forcing me to find a new pain management doctor.

The new doctor not only refused to continue the meds that were working for me, but immediately cut my opioids by over 90% without tapering me down at all. My pain increased so much that I couldn't return to work, even for light duty.

When I asked the doctor why he wouldn't continue the prescriptions my previous doctor was giving me, he said and I quote, “Because of the crackdown on pain meds you're not going to find a doctor in this state will give you more than what I'm giving you now." 

Mind you, this was back in 2014, and was still less than the maximum 90mg morphine equivalent dose that the CDC started recommending in 2016. 

Little did I know that was only the beginning of my nightmare. Since back surgery wasn't an option, the doctor told me my only choice was to have epidural steroid injections.

MICHAEL EMELIO

I did some research and had legitimate reservations about the injections, but without being offered any other options and not wanting to be labeled a drug seeker, I reluctantly agreed. I couldn't afford to be out of work much longer.

The injections were administered a month apart. The first series did nothing for my pain and the second one actually increased the pain by over three-fold. This resulted in me becoming completely bedridden 24 hours a day and struggling to complete the most basic daily life functions. I'm not talking about doing laundry and cleaning house. I'm talking about just feeding myself.

This left me unable to do any kind of work whatsoever, let alone return to my regular job of over 7 years, where I was working towards retirement. When I asked the doctor what was I supposed to do now, his response was, “Have you considered applying for disability?"

Unless you've been here, you cannot fathom the level of shock and horror that I felt at that moment, yet alone the level of injustice and outrage. A word that comes to mind is appalled, but that doesn't even begin to describe it. I went from being an able-bodied worker to disabled and bedridden 24 hours a day.  And for no other reason than the War on Opioids!

To be perfectly clear, I didn't take illegal drugs and I never abused, gave away or sold my prescriptions. I passed all my drug tests, never had a record of drug problems, or even a DUI. I didn't even drink alcohol. I did NOTHING to give them any reason whatsoever to take my medications away.

My current doctor is currently weaning me off the last of my opioids, stripping me of the last tiny bit of medication that have any effect on my pain. What little quality of life I have left is about to be taken away completely.

The only thing I can do now is pray that I am able to hold on and not become another suicide statistic after being forced to live in agony day-in and day-out. All because of the barbarically handled, totally blind, and uncompassionate War on Opioids.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not against fighting drug abuse and addiction, I'm just against the way it's being fought. Taking these medications away from people who have proven they need and use them responsibly will fail to have any impact whatsoever on the addicts who are abusing them.  It only serves to punish the honest and innocent. Why should I be punished and forced to live a life of pain, misery and indignity when I have done nothing wrong?

With the help of opioids, I was still very active and happy, enjoying things like riding motorcycles, jet skiing, and even paragliding. Although recently becoming single, I had no reason not to hope for eventually finding the right woman and living happily ever after.

But I've been robbed of all of that now. I am bedridden and struggling to survive on nothing more than disability income. My pain has tripled thanks to the unnecessary and unwanted steroid injections, and for no other reason than the fear instilled in my doctor by the DEA and CDC.

And it's still not over. The only thing my doctor is offering now is more of the very same injections that put me here in the first place and robbed me of my life.

What keeps me fighting is the sheer anger and outrage that I have for the injustice of it all. If you are a doctor, DEA agent, politician, or anybody else who is not a chronic pain patient – then take a minute to realize that you are only one car accident, one slip, or one fall away from this happening to you.

STOP THIS MADNESS!

Michael Emelio lives in Florida.

Pain News Network invites other readers to share their stories with us. Send them to editor@painnewsnetwork.org.

The information in this column should not be considered as professional medical advice, diagnosis or treatment. It is for informational purposes only and represents the author’s opinions alone. It does not inherently express or reflect the views, opinions and/or positions of Pain News Network.

Help Us Get Our Lives Back

By Andrea Giles, Guest Columnist

I am a 49-year old disabled nurse living in Wyoming. Since 2010, I have been diagnosed with ankylosing spondylitis, phantom limb pain and severe osteoarthritis with multiple major joint deformities.  My remaining knee is now bone on bone, requiring me to use a wheelchair. 

I lost my right leg and half of my pelvis after a total hip replacement due to the osteoarthritis, after which I developed a severe MRSA bacterial infection that resulted in the total hip disarticulation. I’ve had horrible phantom limb pain since the amputation. I also had 2 failed spinal fusions, leaving me with chronic back pain and nerve damage. Since 2010, I have had a total of 52 surgeries.

From 2010 to 2016, I was treated with opioid medication by a pain management physician, with a stable, safe, effective and legal regimen. I followed all of the requirements, such as urine drug tests, pill counts, using the same pharmacy, etc.

Then, at an appointment in 2016, my physician told me that because of the CDC guidelines, he would no longer prescribe opioid medication to me. I was forced off my high dose (120MME) cold turkey. I was lucky, as I didn’t experience withdrawal symptoms other than the reappearance of severe, intractable pain.

I tried to use NSAIDS for the pain and developed a severe, life threatening reaction to them called Stevens-Johnson Syndrome. I came very close to death and was in intensive care for 6 weeks. Because of that, I will be unable to take NSAIDs for the rest of my life.

Because of the MRSA infection, no physician will perform any further surgeries or steroid injections on me because of the risk of activating another infection.

I have tried acupuncture, massage, chiropractic therapy, mirror therapy, physical therapy, water therapy, many different herbal and nutritional supplements, aromatherapy, music therapy, psychotherapy, hypnotherapy and mindfulness. All without relief of the severe, intractable pain.

When I was forced off opioids, I also lost my career as a very good ER nurse. I went from a functional member of society to a home-bound, miserable person who hurts too badly to keep my house clean like I always prided myself on. Many days I’m in too much pain to even shower or complete daily activities of living.

My husband and children have lost the wife and mother they were able to interact with, go places with, share activities with, everything. I have gained 50 pounds because the pain has left me unable to exercise.

After I stopped taking opioids, I developed hypertension.  Before, my blood pressure had never been higher than 130/80. Now I take medication for high blood pressure and it is still usually around 150/90.

I also developed heart arrhythmia and last year suffered 2 sudden cardiac arrests. I only survived because both times they were witnessed by my husband, who is also an ER nurse, so he immediately started CPR. The cardiologist could find no underlying causes and told me that the arrhythmia and cardiac arrests were probably due to longstanding, untreated severe pain.

There is no physician that I can find that will accept me as a chronic pain patient and my primary care doctor refuses to prescribe opioids anymore. I have literally tried every pain management physician in Wyoming and in Montana, which would have required a 6 to 7-hour drive for each appointment.

I, along with many other intractable pain patients, are working feverishly contacting our congressional representatives, federal government and civil rights groups, begging for help -- for anyone in a position of power to hear our cries of medical abandonment and neglect.

Our pleas mostly fall on deaf ears, as the government has convinced the media and the public that pain patients are all addicts and use opioids only to get high. They site false overdose statistics and refuse to acknowledge that while opioid prescriptions have declined -- causing devastating effects on the pain community -- the overdose rate continues to climb because the clear majority of overdoses are due to heroin, illicit fentanyl or polypharmacy with multiple drugs.

Many intractable pain patients are committing suicide because untreated pain takes away their quality of life and the will to live – something they had with legally prescribed and effective doses of opioid medication.

We are desperate. We don’t want to get high. We just want to make informed decisions with our physicians about our own healthcare, to regain access to opioid medication, and to get our lives back!

Andrea Giles lives in Wyoming with her family.

Pain News Network invites other readers to share their stories with us. Send them to editor@painnewsnetwork.org.

The information in this column should not be considered as professional medical advice, diagnosis or treatment. It is for informational purposes only and represents the author’s opinions alone. It does not inherently express or reflect the views, opinions and/or positions of Pain News Network.

A Zebra With the Heart of a Lion

By Dawn Tucker, Guest Columnist 

Ehlers-Danlos syndrome (EDS) sucks.  There, I said it.  I have EDS Type 3 hypermobility and it hurts. I cry every day, sometimes two and three times a day.

I have dislocated various parts of my body due to collagen deficiency.  I have what is called frequent subluxations. My neck, shoulders and wrists have sprained for no reason other than I turned too quickly or took a deep breath.  I never knew why. I just knew people judged me and were critical whenever I mentioned the severity of my pain. 

My whole life (and I am 50 years old now) has been spent listening to others tell me my pain is all in my head, or that I am lazy or crazy. So I stopped telling people about it because no one wants to listen to a constant complainer. 

Instead I isolate and spend most of my time -- when not working -- in bed trying to get my body to cooperate with me.  It doesn’t.

I have three children and five grandchildren.  One son and one grandson also have EDS, and I cry because I know they will be judged and criticized by people who don’t understand. 

I once heard someone tell my son, “Something is always wrong with you.’ And I thought to myself, they could be talking to me.  I am beset with migraines, insomnia, dental issues, allergies, fatigue, irritable bowels, sprains, pains and aches.

I too have been told, “Something is always wrong with you.”

DAWN TUCKER

And they are right.  Something is always wrong with me.  On bad days I want to give up.  Then I remember, I might be the only person my son or grandson knows, who truly understands their pain.  I cannot give up on them, even if at times I want to give up on myself.  

I try to be strong and do everything myself.  I hate to ask for help and I tire of arguing with people about my condition. Yet I know I will argue for my son and grandson.

In the last few years, I have made acquaintance with others who have EDS.  But I’ve met only two doctors that were familiar with EDS, so I took to learning more on the internet.  The internet offers a chance to get the word out about this condition. To let others know about EDS and the often painful associations because of this inherited disease. 

Medical students are sometimes told, “When you hear hoof beats behind you, don’t expect to see a zebra.” That’s why EDS is symbolized by a zebra. It is misdiagnosed, under-diagnosed or simply not considered.  

I am living proof that sometimes it really is a zebra.  I have no problem with being a zebra, but this zebra has the heart of a lion.  

Dawn Tucker lives in Ohio.

Pain News Network invites other readers to share their stories with us. Send them to editor@painnewsnetwork.org.

The information in this column should not be considered as professional medical advice, diagnosis or treatment. It is for informational purposes only and represents the author’s opinions alone. It does not inherently express or reflect the views, opinions and/or positions of Pain News Network.

A Careful Reading of 'Dopesick'

By Roger Chriss, PNN Columnist

The new book “Dopesick: Dealers, Doctors, and the Drug Company That Addicted America” by Beth Macy describes the origins of the opioid crisis and the plight of people addicted to opioids, particularly in the Roanoke area of Virginia.

The book looks at the crisis from multiple perspectives, including local physicians and pharmacists, law enforcement and attorneys, community leaders and even drug dealers. Macy treats the story of opioids, addiction, and fatal overdose with sympathy and concern.

“Until we understand how we reached this place, America will remain a country where getting addicted is far easier than securing treatment,” she wrote.

Macy relies heavily on books like “Painkiller” by Barry Meier and “American Pain” by John Temple, asking questions these journalists explored but providing no new answers. In so doing, she perpetuates numerous media-driven myths about the crisis and misses opportunities to investigate important open questions.

Dopesick starts with the arrival of Purdue Pharma’s OxyContin and the rapid rise of addiction and overdose. Appalachia was among the first places where OxyContin gained a foothold in the mid-1990s, quickly ensnaring working class families:

“The town pharmacist on the other line was incredulous: ‘Man, we only got it a month or two ago. And you’re telling me it’s already on the street?’”

It is still not clear how OxyContin made it into the black market so deeply and quickly, but Macy concludes that overprescribing for chronic pain was a key factor in the crisis. She cites “recent studies” that the addiction rate for patients prescribed opioids was “as high as 56 percent."

Most studies actually put the addiction rate much lower, with the National Institute on Drug Abuse (NIDA) estimating it at 8 to 12 percent.

In the second part of Dopesick, Macy draws on the work of Stanford psychiatrist Dr. Anna Lembke in describing adolescent drug use:

“Across the country, OxyContin was becoming a staple of suburban teenage ‘pharm parties,’ or ‘farming,’ as the practice of passing random pills around in hats was known.”

But pharm parties were debunked years ago as an urban legend.  Slate’s Jack Shafer looked into their origin and concluded the “pharm party is just a new label the drug-abuse industrial complex has adopted."

Macy’s writing often echoes her source materials. On adolescent drug use, she writes:

“So it went that young people barely flinched at the thought of taking Adderall to get them going in the morning, an opioid painkiller for a sports injury in the afternoon, and a Xanax to help them sleep at night, many of the pills doctor prescribed."

Lembke herself wrote in the book ”Drug Dealer, M.D.” in 2015:

“Many of today’s youth think nothing of taking Adderall (a stimulant) in the morning to get themselves going, Vicodin (an opioid painkiller) after lunch to treat a sport’s injury, ‘medical’ marijuana in the evening to relax, and Xanax (a benzodiazepine) at night to put themselves to sleep, all prescribed by a doctor."

The similarities between Macy and Lembke (a board member of the anti-opioid group Physicians for Responsible Opioid Prescribing) are striking.  More importantly, the data on teenage drug use disagrees with both of them. According to NIDA, teen drug use has been in decline for most substances for the past 10 years. Which makes it hard to parse Macy’s and Lembke’s claims about high levels of medication misuse among the teenagers they describe.

Macy also perpetuates ideas about race in the crisis: “Doctors didn’t trust people of color not to abuse opioids, so they prescribed them painkillers at far lower rates than they did whites.”

“It’s a case where racial stereotypes actually seem to be having a protective effect,” she quotes PROP founder and Executive Director Andrew Kolodny, MD.

In fact, rates of addiction and overdose have been rising rapidly among African Americans for years and recent CDC data on ethnicity in overdoses shows no significant difference among black, white, and Hispanic populations. The crisis has long since evolved beyond omitting a particular minority group.

Why did it take so long to recognize the opioid crisis and work to stop it?  Macy assigns blame to the political unimportance of regions like Appalachia, the failure in many states to expand Medicaid under the Affordable Care Act, and addiction treatment that’s based on 12-step or abstinence-only programs. She writes about the treatment industry with almost righteous anger:

“An annual $35 billion lie -- according to a New York Times exposé of a recovery industry it found to be unevenly regulated, rapacious, and largely abstinence-focused when multiple studies show outpatient MAT (medication assisted therapy) is the best way to prevent overdose deaths.”

“The battle lines over MAT persist in today’s treatment landscape -- from AA rooms where people on Suboxone are perceived as unclean and therefore unable to work its program, to the debate between pro-MAT public health professionals and most of Virginia’s drug-court prosecutors and judges, who staunchly prohibit its use.”

But Macy doesn’t look at the full story that heroin addiction represents. She omits the shattered childhoods and serious mental illness often seen in heroin users, and ignores the complicated trajectory of substance abuse. She also skips the fact that heroin addiction frequently starts without prior use of any opioids.

Throughout the book, Macy follows the standard media narrative of the crisis, focusing on addiction as a result of pain management gone wrong. But most people who become addicted to opioids start with alcohol, marijuana and other recreational drugs.

What Dopesick may lack in depth and rigor, it makes up for in compassion and intensity. Unfortunately, Macy accepts at face value claims from experts when she should have fact-checked them.  Perhaps the errors will be corrected in a second edition, which could turn an interesting book into essential reading.

Roger Chriss lives with Ehlers Danlos syndrome and is a proud member of the Ehlers-Danlos Society. Roger is a technical consultant in Washington state, where he specializes in mathematics and research.

The information in this column should not be considered as professional medical advice, diagnosis or treatment. It is for informational purposes only and represents the author’s opinions alone. It does not inherently express or reflect the views, opinions and/or positions of Pain News Network.

How Low Dose Naltrexone Relieved My Chronic Pain

By Marelle Reid, Guest Columnist

For the past eight years I've been dealing with Interstitial Cystitis (IC), a chronic pain condition that feels like a bladder infection that never ends. No one really knows what causes IC and there is no cure.

I've tried everything from surgery and homeopathy to narcotics and antidepressants, but nothing seemed to work until I discovered Low Dose Naltrexone (LDN). A hormone specialist suggested I use LDN as a way to combat the nerve pain that had plagued me for years. I figured I might as well try it since the only side effects from LDN are trouble sleeping and vivid dreams.

MARELLE REID

After a couple of weeks I found the strange dreams stopped, and a few months later I realized I was able to eat foods I normally would avoid because they made my IC pain worse. In fact, I was able to resume a completely normal diet, including foods and drinks that would have previously sent me into terrible flare.

For the past year I've been taking 4.5mg naltrexone at night just before bed. Although it has not cured me, I've been thrilled to find that it has reduced my pain to the point where I no longer feel held back from doing anything I would have done before I was diagnosed with IC. 

Naltrexone is the same drug used to treat alcoholism and opioid addiction. In larger doses (50mg) it blocks opioid receptors in the brain and decreases the desire to take opiates or alcohol.  It's believed that taking naltrexone in smaller doses stimulates the immune system and the production of endorphins, the body's natural painkiller.

LDN is prescribed "off label" for many conditions, but it isn't well known as a treatment for chronic pain because it's not marketed by any drug company for that purpose. The patent on naltrexone expired years ago and there's little money to be made from it or to conduct clinical trials.

However, a review of anecdotal information online and in social media suggests many people suffering from Crohn's disease, multiple sclerosis, fibromyalgia and other chronic illnesses believe they have benefited from taking LDN. (See "Naltrexone Changed Life of Fibromyalgia Patient").

I hope others can find the same relief that I have. 

Marelle Reid lives in Vancouver, British Columbia.

Pain News Network invites other readers to share their stories with us. Send them to editor@painnewsnetwork.org.

The information in this column should not be considered as professional medical advice, diagnosis or treatment. It is for informational purposes only and represents the author’s opinions alone. It does not inherently express or reflect the views, opinions and/or positions of Pain News Network.

A Pained Life: Hold On Hope

By Carol Levy, PNN Columnist

If I didn’t know better, I would think the lyrics from Peter Allen’s 1976 song “Taught by Experts” were specifically for the chronic pain community:

I've been taught by experts in the art of cruelty
Now I'm giving lessons free
All it takes is three
I'll teach you to make friends with pain
Lesson number one
No it's not much fun
Never was much fun

That song feels like the story of my life, at least my life since the pain started.

After my last surgery, the doctor took photos of my shaved head and of the scars remaining from the 12 other neurosurgeries I’ve had for trigeminal neuralgia. Every one of them left visible scars, at least until my hair grew back.

Surgeries also leave invisible scars in our minds and souls. I would venture to say that, in one way or another, many of us have some level of post-traumatic stress disorder that will continue for as long as we have pain.

Recently I finished reading a book on chronic pain. The author gave many exercises and suggestions for ways to deal with pain. The exercises were geared towards ways to change how we think.  Many of the suggestions seemed to be variants of “Don't worry. Be happy.”

There must be a middle ground between “My life is cruel because of pain and I am consumed by it.” -- a thought that is hurtful and soul crushing -- and “I'll pretend it isn’t there and smile.” -- a falsehood that is equally destructive.

What is it that tethers us?

I think it is hope. Hope that the pain will get better, hope that a better, newer, easier treatment will be found. Or better yet, a cure.

And hope that in the interim we will still have access to the treatments and providers that helped us. 

Maybe these lyrics from “Hold on Hope” by Guided by Voices expresses it better than I can.

Every street is dark and folding out mysteriously
Well that’s the chance we take
To be always working, reaching out

For a hand that we can't see
Everybody's got to hold on hope
It's the last thing that's holding me

Carol Jay Levy has lived with trigeminal neuralgia, a chronic facial pain disorder, for over 30 years. She is the author of “A Pained Life, A Chronic Pain Journey.” 

Carol is the moderator of the Facebook support group “Women in Pain Awareness.” Her blog “The Pained Life” can be found here.

The information in this column should not be considered as professional medical advice, diagnosis or treatment. It is for informational purposes only and represent the author’s opinions alone. It does not inherently express or reflect the views, opinions and/or positions of Pain News Network.

Positivity Is My Survival Technique

By Mia Maysack, Guest Columnist

As a young girl, swimming and diving were my main passions in life. I spent every day at our neighborhood pool, from the moment they opened it until the second they closed -- even on rainy days.  I figured I was already wet and there was a great group of lifeguards. I didn't have a care in the world.

All of that changed at the age of 10 when I developed “swimmer’s ear” -- an infection of the ear canal that is often brought on by water that remains in the ear after swimming.  The water creates a moist environment that aids bacterial growth.  

After a routine visit for ear drops at a local clinic, I returned home to rest. Within a couple hours, I awoke from a nap feeling stiff from my neck on down. It was as if I were suddenly paralyzed. I was terrified. The next few moments felt like an eternity. If my mother had not come in to check on me, I could have died right there in my childhood bed.  

My mom knew something was wrong with her young and healthy daughter, and it wasn't much longer before we were on our way to the hospital. During the ride, I remember feeling the head pain for the very first time.

I also recall feeling upset with my father, because on the way he had all the windows down and I felt so cold.  He also had his rock music blasting, which angered me considering how much head pain I was feeling. I did not realize it then, but he was only doing his best to keep me awake - as I was slipping into a coma. 

After arriving at the hospital in a wheelchair, I threw up all over my poor dad. After profusely apologizing, I fell into a deep sleep. Days passed without anyone having any idea what was going on. When my desperate mother inquired, she was told, "Every moment Mia survives is a miracle."

Eventually it was discovered my body was fighting a grave infection and emergency surgery was required. The bacteria was harbored within the mastoid bone of my left ear. It should have been a relatively quick fix, but during the procedure the surgeons found the bone so infected that it crumbled into tiny pieces. It required hours of focused and careful work. 

After sewing my head shut, I was left to rest in the intensive care unit. It was then that left side of my face began oddly twitching. My family had been through the ringer at this point, but my mother did not leave my side. She noticed this change and called for immediate attention, fearing I was having a stroke or seizure.

MIA MAYSACK

It turned out there had been bacteria left behind and it was now attacking my facial nerves, which demanded a second emergency surgery. 

This rare experience left me with deafness in my left ear, partial facial paralysis that has turned into permanent facial synkinesis, as well as chronic migraines and daily cluster headaches. Considering the odds I was up against, I often refer to myself as walking miracle. Bacterial meningitis is swift, sometimes deadly and often results in limb removal. So although my entire life had been turned upside down, I knew I was lucky to be alive. 

Although I go through life with a positive and gratitude attitude, my head has been hurting every single day since this happened. We had no way of knowing back then that I would live with the consequences of that experience forever. I am thankful to have learned the concept of mortality at a very young age, as that helped to cultivate core values, morals and choices for myself  -- which kept me out of a lot of unnecessary trouble other kids my age were getting into. 

Upon returning to school, none of my friends wanted anything to do with me. Instead of checking in and asking what happened to me, untrue stories circulated and the teasing began. Children can be downright cruel in middle school and high school, and because I now looked different than everyone else, I was an easy target. I would spend my recess inside the nurse’s office, working with her on facial retraining exercises. I used to glue or tape my eye closed at night, otherwise it would have essentially dried out and I may have suffered vision loss or lost the eye altogether. 

Accepting My Differences

I have come a long way since then with overall acceptance and I embrace my differences because they represent my fight for life, health and well-being. 

Over all these years, I have tried just about every treatment for my pain that anyone could think of. Medications further complicated things, while neglecting to help with the underlying issues.  Diet changes made no difference.  Nor did biofeedback, acupuncture, Botox, dry needling, trigger point injections, herbal remedies, massage, and chiropractic. The list goes on and on. 

I feel a deeply rooted disappointment with our current healthcare system. We have made many powerful discoveries and improvements in medicine, and the breakthroughs are tremendous for many.  I have come across some great personnel within the medical community, however they are few and far between. 

Due to my illness being invisible, I am often either treated as though I am overreacting, flat out lying, drug seeking or being dramatic. At one point I was banned from a pain clinic for missing a few appointments  because I did not feel safe enough to drive myself.

There is a common attitude toward chronically ill patients, that we are not fully taking responsibility for ourselves or our ailments, and a general opinion within society that we should pop an aspirin and shut up already. If only it were that easy or simple. I wouldn't be here writing this if it was. 

Living each day with head pain, among other discomforts, gets in the way of me being able to think straight and living the life I used to envision for myself.  Often overlooked or flat out disregarded is the constant losses the chronically ill are forced to navigate through.

For example, I worked very hard to earn a job at the very same hospital that saved my life, but ultimately had to step down because they were unwilling to accommodate my need to work fewer hours. I've also had to drop out of college multiple times because they are not set up to cater to the needs of those who suffer from debilitating pain. 

Within the past year and a half, my daily pain scale number of 5/6 has escalated to a 7/8, which has been devastating. Due to high demand, getting in to be seen at a pain clinic (if you are fortunate enough to have one in your area) can take months. When you've been stuck in a cluster headache for 90+ days, it's only natural to feel isolated and alone. There are times I have asked myself how or if I am able to go on like this. 

Our health is one of the most important things in life. That truth is what led me to pursue patient advocacy so passionately. I began witnessing other people getting treated the same way that I was, and it sparked a fire to advocate for the sake of them as well. 

I am living proof that we are far more than any diagnosis. Positivity has become a survival technique as well as a coping mechanism for me. It has led me down a path of holistic wellness through mindfulness and the humble reminder that -- although things could definitely be better -- they could have been much worse.  

Mia Maysack lives in Wisconsin. Mia is a proud supporter of the Alliance for Headache Disorders Advocacy and was recently honored by the U.S. Pain Foundation as its “Pain Warrior of the Month.”

Pain News Network invites other readers to share their stories with us. Send them to editor@painnewsnetwork.org.

The information in this column should not be considered as professional medical advice, diagnosis or treatment. It is for informational purposes only and represents the author’s opinions alone. It does not inherently express or reflect the views, opinions and/or positions of Pain News Network.

An Open Letter to Attorney General Jeff Sessions

By Fred Brown, Guest Columnist

Dear Honorable Attorney General Jeff Sessions,

Why are there are so many federal agencies, like the CDC, DEA and Justice Department, that want to take away my opioid medication?  I have a right to be treated humanely, don’t I?

I am an American citizen who has dealt with some serious and painful medical issues. Over 20 years ago, I was referred to a board-certified pain management physician.  This was due to two failed cervical surgeries that left me with chronic back pain. I had two additional surgeries to fuse my spine after the first two operations, which only made my pain even more severe. The pain physician recommended I should begin a treatment regimen that included low doses of opioid medication.  

These medications helped me to continue working and have a certain quality of life.  I knew from discussions with my physician that, over time, I would need to increase the dose as my body would become dependent on opioids. This has been necessary and over many years these medications helped me live my life.

I have tried other medical modalities such as physical and occupational therapy, biofeedback, acupuncture, counseling, and other alternative treatments.  Further, before starting on opioids, I tried various non-narcotic medicines which did not work.    

Mr. Attorney General, earlier this year, you gave a talk in Tampa and said, “People need to take some aspirin sometimes and tough it out.” 

Perhaps if someone was experiencing mild discomfort, aspirin will work.  However, when one is living with severe chronic pain, 24-hours a day, seven days a week, they very likely need strong opioids prescribed by their physician.

Opiates help patients like me get relief from severe pain. They do not take away the pain, but they help reduce it and enable us to have some quality of life.  

ATTORNEY GENERAL JEFF SESSIONS

The “pill mills” have hurt many people, and most certainly the DEA should do everything it can to close them down.  But at the same time, certain patients must have high dosages of these medications. Each of us have a different metabolism and what may work for one person at one dose level may not work at all with another patient.  

When a government agency such as the DEA goes after physicians who are trying to help legitimate patients, without any idea of the patients’ history is and why they are on high doses, that is entirely wrong and inhumane!

Why are so many agencies, along with Congress, trying to keep these medications at lower dosages that will cause me to live with increased pain?  Does our nation intend to condemn citizens who have painful and excruciating disabilities to a life of agony?

I am aware the CDC made some serious mistakes when it released the 2016 Opioid Prescribing Guideline.  Some physicians believe the guideline is law and began to lower the doses of patients or even discharge them from their practice. It took CDC researchers years to admit they significantly inflated deaths from opioid prescriptions because they misreported deaths due to illegal fentanyl. 

Opioid prescriptions have been declining since 2011, while overdose deaths and suicides are at an all-time high!  This is not accidental.  CDC, FDA and DEA are chasing the wrong opioid epidemic and needlessly ruining lives of people in pain.

Mr. Attorney General, was our nation founded on the premise that our fellow citizens should live in chronic severe pain? I do not believe our Founding Fathers would want this. 

Fred Brown lives in central Florida. Fred is disabled because of spinal fusion with laminectomy syndrome, cervical radiculitis.  He also has severe arthritis in bilateral knees with a failed knee replacement.  In addition to pain management, Fred uses "diversion of the mind" as a way of dealing with much discomfort. 

Pain News Network invites other readers to share their stories with us. Send them to editor@painnewsnetwork.org.

The information in this column should not be considered as professional medical advice, diagnosis or treatment. It is for informational purposes only and represents the author’s opinions alone. It does not inherently express or reflect the views, opinions and/or positions of Pain News Network.

The New Face of the Opioid Crisis

By Pat Anson, Editor

Caylee Cresta doesn’t have any illusions about being the next Internet star or YouTube sensation. But the 23-minute video she posted on what it’s like to be a chronic pain patient during an age of opioid hysteria has become a hit in the pain community.

“This video should be made to go viral,” one fan said.

“Caylee you did an amazing, persuasive presentation. Maybe you should be a lobbyist!” another one wrote.

“Single best piece of chronic pain patient advocacy I have ever seen. Absolutely brilliant!” wrote Chuck Malinowski.

Caylee’s video is not addressed to the pain community, but to the public at large. The 26-year old Massachusetts woman with fiery red hair looks directly into the camera and earnestly asks people to set aside their misconceptions about pain, addiction and the opioid crisis.

“I do not suffer from addiction and yet stigma will tell you that I do.  And that is a myth that we are going to change,” she says. “Don’t ever brush off the plight of the chronically ill because your lives can change in an instant, just as ours have.

“The fight against opiates is an uneducated one. This is a movement that lacks understanding in its most basic form. Every lawmaker is taking on this fight without ever consulting even a single chronically ill person. What does that mean? That means that the people who depend on these medications aren’t even being considered when taking them away.”

In her video, Caylee spends little time discussing her own experience as a pain patient. While still in high school, Caylee developed a rare and incurable neurological disorder called Stiff-person syndrome, which is characterized by strong muscle spasms and stiffness. The spams are so severe her lungs have collapsed twice.

“I’ll get such strong spasms in my throat and chest cavity that they create so much air that can’t escape (my lungs) that it just made them literally pop,” she told PNN. “My muscle spasms can break my bones, they’ll get that strong.”

Caylee’s symptoms were usually dismissed by doctors and it took years for her to get a proper diagnosis. Last year, a doctor at a pain clinic dropped her as a patient after getting a warning letter from Medicare that she was prescribing too many opioids. Caylee went without opioids for months, which is when her lungs burst.

Living in Fear

Although Massachusetts has a reputation as having some of the best healthcare in the world, Caylee now drives 3 hours one-way to see a neurologist in Connecticut.

“Any other doctor that I’ve seen over the years has literally looked at me and in one way or another and said, ‘Your prognosis is so dim. It’s so rare.’ They’re not even willing to take me on as a patient. My doctor has stuck by me and tried everything there is to try,” she says. 

Caylee has tried stem cells, chemotherapy and many other treatments. The only thing that works is opioid medication. Although she is once again able to get prescriptions for opioids, she often has trouble getting them filled. She and her husband went to 20 pharmacies one day before finding a pharmacist willing to fill her script.

“You live every single day in fear.  Every time you fill your prescription you go, okay, I’m going to have a life for another month. But you live that whole month with such anxiety and wondering what’s going to happen next,” she said. 

Caylee hopes her YouTube video will help educate the public about the daily challenges of being in pain and give some hope to pain sufferers.

“I want to fight for people going through this. I truly want to fight for them. I just want to let people know that they’re not alone. I want them to know that we’re all in this together,” says Caylee.

“What is probably the most humbling is when I get messages like ‘I would do anything for the world to be able to see this’ or ‘I would do anything for this to go viral and for people to understand what we go through.’ When I get messages like that, that let me know that these people feel like somebody is speaking for them, that touches me in a way that I can’t even explain.”