scohoon

Health Interests

Fibromyalgia,  Back Pain,  Fatigue,  Sleep Disturbance,  DDD

Drugs I am Taking

Vicodin,  ultram,  flexeril,  xanax,  cymbalta

About Me

I have been married to my soulmate for 36 years, have 4 grown children and 7 grandchildren. I work as a RN in the inpatient psychiatric unit at my local hospital. I have FMS, DDD, and herniated discs in my lower back and neck. I credit my wonderful Primary Care Physician for my ability to continue to work. She treats me with care and compassion, puts up with my endless list of complaints, and works with me to keep me in the best physical and emotional condition possible. Since I need to work fulltime in order to keep our health insurance, my husband has taken over most of the household chores. He cooks, cleans, does the yardwork and listens to my myriad of complaints. I am determined to control my pain, not let it control me. This is not always easy and I have been treated for depression off and on throughout the years. In 1992, shortly before getting my FMS diagnosis, I was in a deep depression and had decided I no longer wanted to live my life in pain all the time and basically being told by doctor after doctor that there was nothing wrong. Apparently they thought it was all in my head. One doctor, an orthopedic surgeon, actually threw my bottle of pain meds that I told him were not helping. He yelled at me and said that if they didn't work then I needed a psychiatrist and dismissed me as a patient. That was the last straw. I kept refilling my meds every month for 3 months and was saving them up. My mind was made up and I prepared to end my life. My brother had committed suicide the previous December and I had decided to do the same. On "the day" I got out all my pills but before taking any of them I suddenly felt extremely tired and decided to lay down for a few minutes first. As I lay there I heard my brothers voice. He said "No sis, it's not the way". I don't know if it was really my brother talking or something else but my life changed in that moment. I flushed the pills down the toilet and decided to fight to get my life back. Shortly after that I saw yet another doctor, got my diagnosis, and with validation that my symptoms weren't all in my head and with proper treatment I took back control. I'm not saying I don't have bad days but they are fewer and I know that I'll get through them. I tell this personal story in hopes of reaching others who may be at that point in their lives and try to give them the strength to go on, continue to fight for their lives, and hopefully make a difference. This is probably why I enjoy my work in the psych unit. I've been there and made my way back. I hope I make a difference and maybe even save a life or two.