Our team of pain management physicians can provide you with long-term pain relief using traditional procedures, pain block injections, and alternative treatments including stem cell therapy to have a more active and healthy life. As experts in chronic pain management, we can pinpoint the source of your pain and prescribe a personalized, time-tested treatment plan that focuses on your specific level of pain. Visit our pain management practice and meet our physicians to get the pain relief you need in the safe, reassuring hands of New York's best pain doctors located in Downtown Brooklyn and Lower Manhattan. Chronic Pain Management in Downtown Brooklyn & Lower Manhattan Pain can be very difficult to control and, sometimes, even after many months of treatment, the patient may still suffer from chronic pain. This can have many deleterious effects on one's life. It may affect one's job, home and relationships with others. Chronic pain management is designed to help individuals cope with some of the effects of long-term pain. An ideal chronic pain management treatment would be one designed to reduce or eliminate the use of pain medications, maximize physical functioning, overcome psychosocial barriers to recovery and bring the patient to maximum medical improvement. If the patient has not been able to work because of chronic pain, the program may also focus on returning him or her to work or involvement in retraining for a different career. Physical pain in the body affects millions of people. Even when pain is only mild, it can stop you from enjoying normal daily life. When the pain is intense, it can end your daily activities and take away all of the pleasure from your day. Fortunately, there are many treatments that can help reduce and eliminate pain in the body. One such treatment is the use of pain-relieving injections. Injections deliver pain-reducing medicine to the source of the pain; thereby eliminating the pain. Read more: https://www.downtownpainphysicians.com/chronic-pain-management/ Working Hours: Monday: 08.00AM - 07.00PM Tuesday: 08.00AM - 07.00PM Wednesday: 08.00AM - 07.00PM Thursday: 08.00AM - 07.00PM Friday: 08.00AM - 07.00PM Saturday: Closed Sunday: 08.00AM - 07.00PM Payment: cash, check, credit cards. Downtown Pain Physicians Of Brooklyn 145 Henry Street, # 1G, Brooklyn, NY 11201 (718) 521-2424 https://www.downtownpainphysicians.com/ e-mail: brooklyn@downtownphysicians.com Location on the map: https://g.page/paindrbrooklyn https://plus.codes/87G8M2W4+FJ Brooklyn Nearby Locations: Dumbo | Vinegar Hill | Bridge Plaza | Brooklyn Heights | Cobble Hill | Boerum Hill 11201 | 11251 | 11231 | 11217

Chronic pain is a severe ailment that affects millions of people worldwide, drastically reducing their quality of life. Conventional pain management methods frequently entail the use of opioids, which can have a variety of side effects and hazards, including addiction and overdose. In recent years, there has been an increasing need for safer and more effective ways to manage chronic pain. Tapentadol, also known as Tapsmart, is one such option. Tapsmart is a centrally acting analgesic with two modes of action: mu-opioid receptor antagonism and norepinephrine reuptake inhibition. This dual mechanism of action distinguishes it from typical opioids, with potential benefits in terms of effectiveness and safety. Tapsmart is available in two strengths: 100 mg and 200 mg tablets. Let's look at Tapsmart's pharmacology, effectiveness, safety profile, and therapeutic applications in the treatment of chronic pain. Pharmacology of Tapsmart: Tapentadol has analgesic effects through two basic mechanisms: Tapentadol, like conventional opioids, operates as an agonist at mu-opioid receptors, which modulates pain perception and transmission in the central nervous system. Tapentadol, unlike many opioids, has a dual mechanism of action, which includes... Tapentadol suppresses the reuptake of norepinephrine, a neurotransmitter that modulates pain pathways. Tapentadol enhances norepinephrine levels in the synaptic cleft, providing additional analgesic effects that may contribute to its success in controlling neuropathic pain. Efficacy of Tapsmart in Chronic Pain Management: Tapsmart has been shown in clinical research to be effective in treating a variety of chronic pain problems, including neuropathic pain, musculoskeletal pain, and nociceptive pain. In a randomized, double-blind trial of individuals with persistent low back pain, Tapsmart was found to be considerably more effective than placebo at lowering pain intensity and increasing functional results. Tapsmart has also demonstrated comparable effectiveness to other opioid analgesics, such as oxycodone and morphine, in various clinical studies. Importantly, Tapsmart's dual mode of action may provide advantages in terms of tolerance and reduced risk of side effects over standard opioids. Safety Profile of Tapsmart: Tapsmart may have a better safety profile than traditional opioids, which is one of its main benefits. Tapsmart's dual mode of action may result in less opioid-related side effects, such as respiratory depression, constipation, and drowsiness. Tapsmart, like many drugs, does not come without hazards. Common adverse effects include nausea, dizziness, constipation, and headaches. Tapsmart also poses a risk of dependency and withdrawal symptoms with long-term usage, however this risk may be smaller than that of typical opioids. Clinical considerations and guidelines for using Tapsmart: When administering Tapsmart for chronic pain treatment, doctors should consider the patient's medical history, pain intensity, and risk factors for opioid-related problems. To get best pain relief while reducing the risk of side effects, start with the lowest effective dose and progressively increase it. Additionally, patient education and counseling are critical components of Tapsmart treatment. Patients should be advised about the dangers and advantages of therapy, particularly the need of adhering to recommended dose regimens and abstaining from alcohol and other central nervous system depressants. Conclusion: Tapsmart (Tapentadol) is a viable therapy option for those who suffer from chronic pain. Its novel dual mode of action has the potential to provide significant pain relief while also improving safety when compared to standard opioids. Tapsmart, like other drugs, should be taken with caution and in accordance with professional recommendations to optimize therapeutic advantages while reducing dangers. Continued study and clinical experience will shed further light on Tapsmart's function in chronic pain treatment and its place in the pain management toolkit. Visit: https://www.pills4cure.com/product/tapsmart-100mg/ https://www.pills4cure.com/product/tapsmart-200/

Eight days after my twentieth birthday, I'm rushed to the Emergency Room. Again. Twelve times in the last year and a half. The pain is so bad I can't pick myself up from the tiled bathroom floor, sweating, nauseous and sick to my stomach. “We're sorry, Ms. Ludemann, but we can't give you any painkillers -- have you tried ibuprofen?” I see a news segment about a man who took so much Advil that he burned a hole in his liver, and wonder if burning a hole in mine would convince people that I'm sick. I cycle between passing out and dissociating on my partner's worn couch. The EMTs who arrive in the ambulance joke that I can't be that bad. The (white, old, male) doctor asks me if I have any “mental health issues,” then tells me I am a woman and I simply have anxiety, manifesting itself in physical forms. IVs, EEGs, EKGs, MRIs, CAT scans. I am drowning in alphabet soup, but no one has an explanation for the ache in my bones, the snapping sounds my hips make, the popping of my subluxed shoulders slipping back into place. In November, I drive to a nearby medical supply store. The last few hundred dollars in my bank account are forked over for the only semblance of freedom I have had in weeks. The seat is too wide for my hips. The plastic armrests leave black and blue bruises on my arms for a month. My friends pick up a roll of cat printed duct tape at CVS, and we spend the evening carefully aligning strips on the side rails. It becomes my “pussywagon,” a humorous extension of myself in an attempt to conceal the bruises all over, the muscle spasms that rack my body, the tears shed as I struggle to literally crawl up the stairs to my inaccessible, second-floor dorm room. I soon learn that my college is built on hills, and try to ignore the pain in my shoulders as I push myself across campus and back. In December, I set up a GoFundMe, staring blankly at my computer screen at the hundreds of other fundraising campaigns set up by people like me who need money to cover the cost of surviving, which is its own pre-existing condition. We raise $400, and I have a break down in bed thinking about ways to make up the extra two thousand we need. My grandmother, whose own joint issues lead to a botched knee surgery and a large legal settlement, loans me the money, if only because we call each other and commiserate over the weather and the pain in our elderly bones. The chair I choose is bubblegum pink, bright enough that I can be spotted crossing the dark streets on campus at night. I name her Veronica and cover the sides in stickers and figure out hacks for attaching my backpack to her pushbar. They move me to a new dorm, where I don't have to humiliate myself crawling to my room. I spend January through April zooming across campus, waiting impatiently for the crowded elevator in academic buildings, calling facility services multiple times imploring them to shovel the wheelchair ramp and make pathways bigger than a foot wide. My partner and I trudge through the mud and muck of Pride in May, dodging puddles and shivering under sweaty plastic ponchos. When we roll over to compliment a group of fellow queer wheelchair users on their sign, which calls out the inaccessibility of having the parade terminate at the fairgrounds, they smile and ask, “Do you have Ehlers-Danlos too?” For the next hour, I learn that other people have the same pain I do, that the “party trick” I've had for years is really my elbow dislocating, that the dizzy spells and night sweats I get have a name, that my symptoms are real. I bury my head in my laptop for a weekend straight, digging up any and all information I can find. My parents tell me that researching too much is making me a hypochondriac. Two days before my senior year, my mother, Veronica and I fold ourselves into my small car and make the drive from our house to the only doctor within a fifty mile radius knowledgeable about Ehlers-Danlos syndrome. Two white-coat wearing, tight-lipped doctors poke and prod at my body for an hour, making me bend this way and that way, asking my mother questions about my birth, looking at my teeth, taking samples of my blood. They tell me that I don't score high enough on the Beighton scale to have Ehlers-Danlos, but I might have Hypermobility Spectrum Disorder, the big umbrella under which EDS falls. I nod and smile blankly, knowing that the entire ride home I will have to listen to my mother prattle on about how she was right, that I was convincing myself I was sicker than I am. Two days before the start of my senior year, I sit in my living room, surrounded by suitcases and boxes. My sister fills her backpack with binders and books; I fill mine with meds, my foldable cane, KT tape to hold my joints in place, a heating pad, bottles of melatonin to force my body to sleep on nights when the pain keeps me awake. On move in-day, I sit in my dorm room and take a deep breath, processing my new suroundings. Then the typing begins.