God bless my doctors for working so hard to get me back up on my feet and reduce my pain to a level that doesn’t require increasing my pain med dosage to something that should knock me out cold for a week (on JUST ONE PILL). I’ve been doing a lot of crying lately out of sheer frustration and because of the pain. Something has to happen soon to reduce my pain to a much more manageable level. Yesterday, the doc read me his last visit report and told me exactly what he was going to say in the next one. If his drastic demands are denied this time, I’m afraid I might make like a volcano and erupt. Violently. And I’ll ground all air traffic within a thousand miles from the debris. Granted, it’ll likely only be my blood and guts and such, but still…
Oxyconxxx 30mg twice a day
Oxycodxxx 10/325mg every 6hrs as needed
Baclxxxx 10mg three times a day
Cymbxxxx 60mg once, at bedtime
Amxxxx 10mg at bedtime
Enough Colace to ease a plugged up elephant’s bowels but, apparently, not enough for me
Had to drop Flexexxx because I’ve blown up like a doughy balloon while taking it. Not fun. And, of course, when I went to the drugstore to fill new scripts I thought I’d grab a diuretic to help rid myself of the extra fluid that’s caused my lower half to resemble a whole lot of sausage. They didn’t have it. They don’t carry it. They used to, but they no longer feel it’s something they feel good having in the store. They sell liquor and smokes, but they won’t carry OTC diuretics. Go fucking figure.
On top of all this, it’s been hot and muggy. I mean HOT AND MUGGY! HOT AND MUGGY!
Mama ain’t havin’ fun.