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Pastimes : Don't Ask Rambi -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: Ilaine who wrote (42213)	11/19/1999 3:04:00 PM
From: Jacques Chitte	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 71178

NoNoNooooh, you have a very good point. I did a little Googling about methadone and I see that it is sorta creeping back into favor with the real hard-case pain patients. But they have to jump through "methadone clinic" hoops - astounding. It's like being asked to wear this honking scarlet letter. Methadone is shockingly politicized in this country. It is inextricably linked with the politics of heroin addiction, and so any doctor who prescribes methadone comes under a microscope. Jheez Guys - it's just a drug! I get the impression that the Gov't feels the way about drugs that devout Christians are lampooned to feel about sex - "it's a nasty thing, but we can't seem to do without it. But we don't have to talk about it either."

To: Ilaine who wrote (42213)	11/19/1999 3:09:00 PM
From: Gauguin	Read Replies (2) \| Respond to of 71178

Now THAT, is a nightmare story. Makes me mad. Is the guy "doing okay"? (This was an oncologist?) How did he cope? How does he cope? I would think there could be a depression incident (or decade) after that. Does the methadone work well? Is he always in pain? There was a brief news blip last night about combining a poison with something else, a special protein or this or that related to nerves, (sorry), and injecting it into nerves, selectively shutting them off for pain, but not for other sensations. AMAZING, if it can be expanded. E.g, for chronic pain. Just imagine if the nerve you describe in the guy's chest could be selectively shut off for pain without losing its other regulatory functions. Backs, necks, etc. PAUL'S LEFT NUT! :o) It is sad and strange, and as you were saying, have said, it does remind us of someone who escaped. I still have the target marks for the radiation beams on my chest, and remember the lead shield on plexiglass they custom-built for my lungs. I think the lead was about an inch and a half thick. Two inches maybe. Pretty thick, if you think of the inverse unshielded area. They irradiated (what to me) is a large area. My beard below my chin fell out, the outside portion of my lungs lost function; but not enough to, uhm, worry about. (As you know, they have to target everywhere there are lymph nodes, and there are a lot of them.) The cancer hadn't spread outside that area, which is what all the testing had "hopefully" determined. Very, very, lucky. Piece of cake lucky, in the cancer world. Sometimes I hurt where they removed the first tumor, and I almost panic again. You know, just silliness. But then again, 3 and 1/2 years ago, they thought some large lumps in my lungs were cancer; and likely that would have been all-for-Paul. ("Wait. Save some shit for others!" "We do. We do. We have plenty.") I got a little stressed over that, those weeks, but again, not that much, because by then I was kind of "used" to being targeted to die; and as I said before, it's really more confusing, than anything else. I tried to give Dash my stuff. 13 years with only a brief period of wellness makes you feel dogged. I don't say that for sympathy, only for explanation of what kind of mental chaos and habituation develops. Well, after that long, it's only realism. Hearing that story, again makes me realize it is essential to celebrate what one can do, and not what one can't. However, that realization is, imho, only accessible to the healthier mind that can "realize" it. That being so, it gives a perfect gauge of the position of the mind. You can know how healthy or unhealthy you are, by what occurs to you. And then, by whether your efforts along those lines bear fruit. It won't occur to you, if you are in a place I call Territory Nine. I think I mentioned radiation will make you sick, but not for the rest of your life. Sic em, Coby. Good on you. You are like heroine. I KISS YOU.