Original Orient Adventures

Hey, I’m back — now three years into this journey with chronic back pain, and to be honest, not much has changed in terms of real relief. When I last wrote, I had just started a new medication: Low-Dose Naltrexone (LDN), 5mg — a modified version of a medication originally used for alcohol withdrawal.

It’s been somewhat helpful, but accessing it isn’t easy. I have to order it from an out-of-state compounding pharmacy. It costs around $90 for a two-month supply — not terrible, but I still wonder if there’s a local pharmacy that could fill it for less hassle.

The Daily Meds Routine

Right now, here’s what I’m taking (and it feels like a full-time job just managing it):

Ibuprofen 800mg Tylenol 500mg Meloxicam 15mg Pregabalin (Lyrica) 100mg Nortriptyline 50mg Duloxetine (Cymbalta) 30mg Low-Dose Naltrexone 5mg

That’s a pretty serious cocktail for someone who’s only 34. But if you live with back pain, you get it. If you don’t — consider yourself lucky.

Let me break it down:

Ibuprofen, Meloxicam, and Tylenol are for inflammation and pain. Meloxicam is a long-term NSAID, while Ibuprofen is more for short-term flare-ups. Duloxetine helps with both anxiety and musculoskeletal pain — though if I didn’t have the pain, I doubt I’d need it. Pain and anxiety go hand in hand. Nortriptyline is technically an antidepressant, but it’s also prescribed for nerve and joint pain. Pregabalin (Lyrica) is a controlled substance — not sure exactly why, but I have to show ID every time I pick it up. Maybe it’s because it can affect your mood, and stopping it suddenly can be dangerous. And then there’s Low-Dose Naltrexone, which I’m still experimenting with. It’s supposed to reduce inflammation and pain by calming the nervous system over time — we’ll see.

Even with all these meds, I still have bad pain days. So yeah… sometimes I question whether they’re working at all.

Trying to Stay Active

For about a year, I was working two jobs — my full-time day job and a second shift as a shelf stocker at a grocery store. That meant lifting boxes, walking miles, bending constantly, and being on my feet for hours.

The upside? I lost weight. I dropped to around 185–190 lbs, which is right where the doctors wanted me in terms of BMI. (Though let’s be real — BMI is outdated and doesn’t factor in muscle, build, or chronic illness.)

The downside? I was exhausted and still in chronic pain. I wasn’t sleeping enough, and my pain didn’t improve. In fact, it probably got worse from the strain. The doctors told me to stay active and stick to physical therapy — but some of the exercises just made the pain worse. So I stopped going. And guilt followed.

Even at a healthy weight, with an active lifestyle, I still didn’t feel “better.” That’s the part people don’t get: weight loss helps, but it doesn’t fix chronic nerve pain.

Quality of Life — What Does That Even Mean?

All I’ve ever wanted is to live a normal life. To spend time with my wife and kids, to be the dad and granddad I want to be. But my “quality of life” has been on a slow, downward slide.

I can’t lift like I used to. I can’t run. I can’t even really play with my grandkids. Something as simple as picking one of them up could trigger a flare-up in my back or leg — sometimes it feels like my leg might just give out. It’s heartbreaking.

What do you say to a doctor without sounding like a pill-seeker? All you want is relief. Not to get high — just to feel normal. To be able to do basic things without your body screaming at you.

Still Here, Still Trying

This is where I’m at. Still managing. Still hurting. Still showing up.

If you’re going through something similar, I see you. I know how isolating it can be to live with chronic pain that most people don’t understand. You’re not alone — and if nothing else, maybe this post helps remind you of that.

Thanks for reading. Until next time.