I would say text messaged, akin to how I say instant messaged. Message is totally a verb.
Pain! Painkillers!
Man, if they weren't restricted and expensive, I think I'd shortcut to being an addict. Why should I wait until I'm in pain to take them? I know I'm going to be in pain soon.
I appall me with the med juggling, but so far every combination I've run by a pharmacist gets the thumbs up. My instincts seem clear. It's just so damned rare one pill makes anything go away.
The 4mgs of dilaudid I had last week made the pain go down to a 5/10. Made me stumble and ramble like a drunk. Not fun. Visit before was phenergan and dilaudid. Which reminds me--you can get a script for suppository anti-nausea pills, and wait until they kick in to take the painkillers.
I've had morphine, which took no pain away, but I didn't care. Nurse asked if I wanted a second dose, and I demurred because I was trying to keep it together and converse sanely with Burrell's very DH who had accompanied me to the ER.
God, I'm twitchy and irritable tonight. Too many unrelated things hurt, and it's the sort of migraine that makes me pace and grit my teeth, not the one that makes me want to hide from the world. Or make phone calls I know I'll regret.
Sometimes time passes too slowly. I'd like to already be asleep, or at least not have my stomach, shoulder, and skull hurt.
I'm just whiny as fuck tonight. And wielding a little too much self pity. Some migraines leave me with an excess of mental energy, and I get so very twitchy. I should probably add an Ambien to the festival of pharmaceuticals in my blood, because if the pain's not going to go away I need to achieve sleep nonetheless.
I've never had Tramadol, but my not-my-guy was prescribed some for pain lingering after a car accident, and he took some just before coming over to my place.
I knew he was really fucked up when he sat down and took off his shoes
and
socks. He never wanders around my apartment barefoot. Twenty minutes later he reached over and put his socks back on--to this day he doesn't remember doing it, and blanches every time I bring it up.
Which means I do, weekly.
weekly.
That's remarkable restraint.
That's remarkable restraint.
He can kill me with an eyelash.
He can kill me with an eyelash
....there are people out there who can kill
ita
with an eyelash?
t shocked
This is a guy who voluntarily got TASERed for five seconds this week. Okay, I'd totally do it. But he wants to do it again. And I have no illusions--I'd scream and collapse afterwards like the other voluntary victims.
Except him. He didn't scream, and he didn't sag.
Eyelash, I tell you. Eyelash.
He didn't scream, and he didn't sag.
That's uh...priapic.
Go you with finding an eyelash killer, though.
Wait! Are you dating Brock Sampson?
....don't make me start 'shipping you, ita.
