When it comes to physical pain, I am the biggest coward in the world. When I was young, now and then something would happen that involved pain - like when I seriously sprained my ankle at age 27. It never even occurred to me to ask for an opioid analgesic. That's because I knew the pain was temporary. I just took aspirin every 4 hours, until I actually developed ringing in my ears, which is a side effect of taking more aspirin than your particular body can handle. (even if you are taking it as the label directs, which I was.)

Then, one day, you reach a point in the aging process where you realize that you have chronic pain. It is never, ever going to completely go away. It will be a feature of every day of your life, for however many days you have left on this earth . . . and it will just get worse. Amazingly (to me) lots of people make their peace with this reality and accept that chronic pains and aches are part of living on into your golden years, and they just don't focus on it. I do not have that level of maturity. We have members, here at PC, who have to manage very serious chronic pain, along with managing their psych issues, and they do.

A few years ago, when I had a bout of diverticulitis, I believed that, if I hadn't felt confident that it was a transitory situation, I would have shot myself. My current daily pains and aches are not like the anguish of diverticulitis, and nowheres near - I'm sure - as big a cross to bear as many people carry for years. But, given my pitifully low tolerance for pain, I'ld be horrified to have to face the achiness I experience everyday, without an opioid that pretty much gets rid of it. I'ld probably just stay in bed, or sit in my recliner with frozen gel packs stuffed behind my neck and the small of my back . . . and take 3 hour long tub baths every evening.

So, if I think my "supply" is threatened, I start worrying "how am I even going to live?" It's all relative to your point of view. My point of view may be childish, but I see things from where I am and that's where I'm at.

BTW, I can totally see where some might think, "Well she's a big baby who doesn't deserve any sympathy, when others handle a lot worse."

I've stressed out about this since leaving that appointment yesterday. Maybe the PA will call and say the lab verified that I'm not taking benzos. I can't keep fretting about this, so I'm going to bed. It seems that one way out of anxiety is when depression sets in. Then I give up worrying because I think "What's the use?"