I just got a mini-prescription from my OB-GYN - 10 pills to help deal with a ruptured ovarian cyst (now all the guys are covering their eyes and going "LALALALALA") - and I have realized how they help pass the time. Frankly, I don't remember anything about the last two days, but that doesn't bother me at all.
Monday, I went to the doctor and she said the only thing I could do for the screaming pain in my abdomen was "wait it out," so she gave me the scrip. I ate lunch, did a little Target shopping, rode around in the car for a while and finally took a pill at about 3 in the afternoon. The rest of the day is a soft, floaty haze. I know I slept and then had some egg salad and then took another pill before I went to bed, but beyond that, pfffft!
Tuesday I got up in much less pain and decided that I didn't need any more pain pills! I had a semi-productive morning (okay, I made breakfast, but that counts for productive, right?) and then took a nap with Tony, who is having his own medication issues. When I woke up, I was feeling icky and achy, so we went to lunch, thinking Chinese food would help. It didn't. I came home, took a pill and slept for three glorious hours straight. (At this point, I think I've slept away 10 of the last 12 waking hours...whee!) I don't remember the rest of the night, except I got hooked on Mafia Wars and ate some more egg salad and I think baked some cookies. Yep, a quick survey of the kitchen reveals chocolate chip cookies were baked last night. Breakfast!
The moral of the story is...if you don't have to work and the house is pretty clean and the dogs still get fed, take your vicodin. If you are like I have been most of my adult life, and you have to work ridiculous hours, the house is a mess and the dogs are savaging your leg because they are so hungry when you finally get home, look wistfully at the bottle of vicodin (or tramadol, or tylenol 3, or whatever pain killer you've been lucky enough to get) and tuck it into the back of your medicine cabinet, because you certainly don't have time to get high right now.
My mother is the perfect example of this. Not for herself, but for her children. Whenever my brother or I would receive pain killers, whether for wisdom tooth removal, surgeries, broken bones, whatever, she would remove enough for one day from the bottle "for us" and keep the rest "for mama." I swear to God. Her favorite line always was "you don't want to get hooked on this stuff." Like taking two days of pills for a broken nose was going to make me a junkie or something.
The woman has to have 10 years worth of vicodin in her cabinet. Whenever we go somewhere, she has it out, offering it to any family member with a bruise. She'll open this old tin pill box and announce, "I've got vicodin, tramadol, what's this little one? Oh, yeah, valium! And, if you are really feeling hinky, here's some estrogen - takes the edge right off!"
You want to see her get really sweaty, just take what she deems to be too many of her painkillers. This past weekend Jack hurt his back and was dipping into the collection in order to be able to stand upright without shrieking in pain. My mom was on the phone with me, whispering, "If he doesn't stop, I'm going to be completely out, Lacy. Then what will I do?"
Well, her solution presented itself in a mass on MY ovary. I called her on the way home from the doctor and made the mistake of mentioning my new prescription.
"Well, you get that filled, but don't take any. You give that to me - you don't want to get hooked on that stuff!"
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Why? I just have to know why you are spreading these untruths about me. You and your brother have a high pain threshold. There was never any need for you to take all those painkillers. Jack is learning to deal with his pain by doing stretching exercises, taking a more holistic approach.fas
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