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/

With the National outrage in India over the rape and murder of a 27 years old Veterinarian and another 23 years old rape victim being set on fire on her way to testify in court, I can't help but recall an incident that happened years ago. I got to thinking about the way our society perceive rape and how more often than not , the victims are the ones who get punished. We tend to blame the victim rather than the perpetrators. This incident happened years ago, I was a teenager and living in Aba with my family. Our neighbors had a daughter named 'Chinyere' whom everyone termed ' Promiscuous'. Opposite our house is a two storey building owned by a rich Merchant who has 3 sons. One of this sons is a well known trouble maker called 'Osy'. On the day the incident happened, Osy pretended to be sick and so was left alone at home . He then called Chinyere to come and prepare spaghetti for him. Unknown to her he had 5 of his friends waiting and when she got there, they raped her one after the other . After the crime, they seized her clothes and pushed her out on the street stark naked. You would think people will condemn Osy and his friends but the reverse was the case. Chinyere was severely beaten by her parents and that was it. For months, Osy and his friends boasted openly about how they flogged her with belts when she refused to open her legs and other details of the rape. The girl couldn't walk through the street without one of them taunting and mocking her, she was about 19 years old then. Last I checked, both perpetrators and victim are still alive, all married with kids. Looking at the incident now from the perspective of an adult, I can't help but wonder! Why the parents thought their child deserved to be beaten and the Criminals spared? Why no one spoke out for that innocent girl? Why the perpetrators were the ones mocking the victim and not the other way round? Why the victim had to bow her head in shame while the perpetrators walk with their shoulders straight and their heads high? Could it be that deep inside, our society doesn't really see rape as a serious crime? Could it be that deep inside, we tend to think that anyone who gets raped had it coming? Why is it that judges in court are quick to tell victims to dress the way they were dressed the day they were raped? Why are there more excuses for the perpetrators than sympathy for the victims. I can't even begin to imagine the trauma, that girl had to go through , first in the hands of her torturers and then in the hands of her parents or the shame she had to face afterwards. Our society has to start looking at rape, not with the eyes of the rapist but with the eyes of the victim. We need to first chase away the Wolf before we blame the hen for being careless with her chicks. Women and girls please be careful, who you trust and where you go. It isn't safe out there and at the end of the day the only person that can truly take care of you, is you. Like the songwriter wrote' No one else can feel the rain on your skin'. Be safe this season.

July,2008 It was a very hot saturday.As per my ritual every school weekend,I was still lolling around in bed even at 09.30 in the morning.Nothing could have motivated me to change my current place,not even mommy dearest's threat of introducing Mr.flipflop to my beautiful face,nothing except the aforementioned 'hot' day. The sweat drenching my powerpuff 'bubbles'pyjamas successfully made me move from belly-flop position on bed to starfish position on the floor. Busily contemplating how could cinderella's shoes have fallen off if they fit perfectly,I failed to hear the knock on my front door. The sound so meek it failed to attract my attention until the third time and it made me suspicious! Afterall I'm home alone(both my parents had just left for work) and the calling bell was working better than me. Before my 13-year-old mind could conjure up situations where a clown came after me with butter knife,number of knockings had increased to five. Dubious yet curious I checked the peep-hole to find a little girl who couldn't be more than 5 years old fidgeting with a stainless steel vessel in her hand,Only then I remembered that it was mid-July. I live in Chennai(Tamilnadu,India) city famous for 2nd longest beach in the world-marina.My mother tongue is Tamil(one of the oldest language)and we have a separate calendar in addition to common one we use and the first tamil month starts from 14th of april. During the Tamil calendar fourth month 'aadi'(July 15-aug 15) we worship goddess parvathi in various ways. one such custom is to visit a temple and cook sweet jaggery rice camping style with clay pot,bricks and dry wood. Few ardent devotees visit as many homes as possible to get raw rice or money as donation. understanding that this slightly anorexic looking,dimpled cherub in a worn out but clean sky blue frock with two ponytails was one such collector floored my mind. As I opened the door I was awestruck by two things.First,her impeccable manners as she sweetly asked me to 'please' give her handful of rice and second,the widest toothpaste advertisement worthy smile she hit me with once she finished requesting. Despite taken aback by this tiny pixie with expressive eyes bravely facing the burning sun,I somehow managed to get a cup full of rice and 4 cent chocolate my classmate had given me the previous day. The little darling was thrilled to see the chocolate and thanked me profusely remarking how her 3-year-old little brother was crazy for them but their mother had very little money to buy it. Her father,an unemployed alcoholic heaped the burden of managing expenses on his wife who managed two jobs(as a waitress and house maid). In order to make their ends meet she had heartbrokenly sent her adorable babygirl to collect rice not for worship but for their own use in upcoming months! Having collected her bounty, madam cutie bade me goodbye exclaiming she was on a very tight schedule thus here I was,once again, sprawled on the floor of my bedroom reflecting on the surprising yet most welcomed meeting I just had with the cheerful little girl. Cheerful little girl,who A)looked anorexic due to lack of food B)wore a patched up frock because her mother struggled to make ends meet C)cherished cheap chocolates yet saved it for her brother and most of all faced all these difficulties with a huge smile and innocent eyes. That was when I had "good god I have been an idiot!" moment. Confused?Well,All the while this tiny pixie was stage-whispheringly confessing to me,she kept crossing her legs dancing like a snake which in retrospect could have been due to leg pain or her need to visit the restroom but being the stupid teenager I was, I failed to question her about it on the spot so I leapt from the floor and rushed outside. Twenty minutes of exploring-my-neighbourhood later I understood my search party had failed epicly making me conclude she must have finished with this street and moved on. That day at the age of 13, I learned many lessons through this angel (who disappeared just as suddenly as she appeared) I understood the importance of acknowledging my parents sacrifices, I learnt that the comforts I took for granted were luxury to others, I decided to thank god everyday for everything he blessed me with but most of all I learned to face everything with a smile on my face. To most this might be the simplest of encounter but for a naïve teenage girl like me this was one of a life changing moment. Even now at the age of 26, I still dream about that angel who taught me to face all challenges with child like open-mindedness and her mother who undeterred by poverty faced the days with dignity doing her best to raise her children with good behaviour and kind heart. My sweet Angel if you read this one day I thank you for breezing into my life that hot Saturday and changing it within shortest amount of time and fervently hope god has heaped you as well as your little brother with lots of chocolates and love.

"Aw come on, don't look at me like that..." Dammit. Those enormous eyes were staring at me like I'd just ordered its execution. How could I just leave t there? I had no idea how to explain this to my wife. In my days of adventuring and travel, I'd brought home all kinds of strange things. It was my job, after all; people paid good gold for retrieving artifacts or rare ingredients, heirlooms, whatever they needed. I was their man. Enchanted swords, disembodied eyes that still blinked, satyr hair, even a haunted mirror had all come home with me at some point. My dear Evelina had made peace with it long ago, provided I got rid of my findings in a reasonable amount of time. But the dog-sized baby dragon currently trying to follow me home? I may have finally pushed my luck too far. It made a little warbly noise in its throat, almost like a muted cry. It peered up at me, seemingly seeing right into my soul with its massive green eyes. Its white body shimmered in the light, scattering beams of sun into the mouth of the cave I'd found it in. As far as I could tell, it had been abandoned. Remnants of two other shells, long dried out and disintegrating into the sandy floor, indicated its red and yellow siblings had hatched long ago. The white shell, however, had been still damp from its occupant. The poor thing was mewling pathetically, probably from loneliness, when I found it. Dragons were social creatures, after all. Oh, hell. I let out a long sigh. How could I leave it here, knowing its parents weren't coming back for it? I looked at it. It looked at me. I tried to shut out my traitorous compassion and be logical. It purred and gently pawed at my leg. I lost the battle. "Alright, fine," I growled, not truly angry at it but frustrated by my weakness. The little dragon gave a happy chirp and fluttered its winglets excitedly. A little puff of smoke shot out of its nose. I shouldered my bag and set off down the road. The dragon puttered ain't beside me, green eyes practically glowing with happiness. Tiny claws made a small clattering noise on the uneven cobblestones of the road. I reached down and stroked its wings, eliciting a delighted purr. Maybe Evelina would be swayed by this thing's cuteness. I hoped. Otherwise, I wouldn't be sleeping on the couch, I'd be single.

Granddad, your style. Your style is more complex than anyone knows. I cannot explain your outfits. I gazed at a few old pictures, from the last fifty years. And your style, your outfits are the only challenge. Who has a more complex style than you? Granddad, how do these pictures stay together? How do you keep all of them? How do they remain in the old grocery bags you put them in so many years ago? Did your mother expect for you to take me in all those years ago? Caring more about me then you did about your own life. Or the number of suits you gave away and threw out to accommodate for the space I needed? The pairs of leather and snake skinned boots you departed with, at the last minute? Did she see how much of an impact I made on your life? On your style? Granddad, did she see how wide you opened the door for me to walk in all those years ago? Did she see the jeans you wore, the knit sweater you graced, and the macaroni bracelet you wore to keep me happy? Did she see how much of an impact I made on your life? On your style? *** In the room staring at you. You fastened your watch around your wrist. You spritzed your cologne on yourself, the rain and forest like scent drifted in the air. You are now ready to go stepping. I stood in the doorway, my tiny figure getting lost with the giant furniture. I rested on the cold doorknob, in my light pink pajamas and a pink silk bonnet on my hair to match. After giving me a simple kiss on the cheek, you rushed out of the door. The hurt in my eyes as you left; time wasn't yet comprehensible, the two to three hours you were gone felt like a lifetime. I watched you through the living room window. As you stepped into the car, you gazed up at me and watched the single tear roll down my cheek. That night was the last Sunday you went out stepping. *** Three picture stared back at me. The first was from 1970, you dressed in pressed black slacks, a crisp white dress shirt with a black cardigan on top. Your necklace peeking through, your watch and ring shining. You smiled into the camera. Your sister next to you smiling as well. The second was from 2008. You dressed in slightly worn jeans, a new sweater, and your new felt shoes. Your watch face still shined, but the band was worn out. You smiled down at me, as I smiled up at you. I sat on my tricycle, riding in circles. You sat on the steps, watching me, laughing and giggling at my happiness. The third, 2016. I stood next to you. I wore my brand new white dress and my brand new cream shoes. A pearl necklace adorned my neck with matching earrings. You stood next to me. You wore an old, worn tee shirt and jeans with a small hole at the bottom of the left leg. Your watch sat dully on your wrist. You smiled down at me, as I smiled at the camera.

Good Evening Everyone! I hope you like the picture. This is my little guy Bonzo. He is 4 years old and very smart. He's very loving and compassionate towards me. He is quite the tea lover (Earl Grey and English Breakfast seem to be his favorites)and soon he will meet his new mate D'Aff N'aia. I am hoping to get her through the summer sometime and will surely post when she's here. I can't wait for her. She will be spoiled too! Best Regards, Julie Ann

The last performance, I felt nothing. When I left the party, I felt nothing and when Brad, our director exclaimed his wise words to us “Be good, and if you can't be good, be SAFE”, I felt nothing. This would be the last time I would get to know someone in the span of 2 weeks, rushing to put on a show when all we wanted to do was talk for hours long because we always all fall in love with each other. I don't even know if I should feel guilty because I still feel so much, too much for the little things. The glares, the stares and the smiles. Subtlety or a lack of anything kills me every time. I remember when I first started crushing on you Will. But you already had a prettier version of myself when I met you. Everything I am striving to be in the future is now here in the present. Perfect skin, skinny body, deep mysterious voice. Why couldn't you have just kissed her. You didn't. I sat next to you after she did, hoping I would be better because of the extra two years I have lived or because I smell like sweet peaches and you flickered your red pen on my thigh. You looked at me with warmth and I felt seduced. With a pen Will. Of course I think this is leading somewhere, I always do. We play the 20 questions game and I think of a rainbow because I want this game to last as long as possible because I want you to talk to me for as long as possible. but then, you stop. You get bored because that's all you do. You leave and everyone still likes you. You're the salt around a margarita, undeniably surprising yet gross, leaving a sour taste. “fight back Flo, you're a senior”. I tell you both that you're people I don't care how old you are because touch me Will. And all you do is laugh. “hi Flo” says these pretty young boys in the hallway. First it was Lucas, and now it's you and I want you to stop tenting me. Today you wore all black and you looked gay babe. And that's what made me want you even more. Let me paint your nails, let me do your hair. Ten girls probably own those madden boots and you make them look like amateurs. You started off slow, testing how you would express yourself because you never really do. You never tell me how you feel Will. And there you go. Your skinny body starts crushing Brad's wood, your earphones dangling from your fresh trim. And all I want to do is watch you forever until you jump off that stage for me again and not just rip your pants off but rip all your clothes off until you get bored of me again. Until Rhea's golden curls catch your attention and you notice I'm not pretty enough. Until you hug someone else rather than me, to comfort someone if not yourself. I know I'll find someone like you in the future, the reflection of you. Soft, warm and spontaneous. There are versions of ourselves constantly floating in the tectonic layers of our fragile existence and somewhere I'll find your smile. Somewhere I'll find your cold but undeniably sexy humor. Because you're just what I want you to be. You're nothing at all. Maybe that's what you are. A version of the past boy I once loved and the inspiration for the next. You're pathetic pretty boy and I love you.