Oh, Tep, that sucks. My dad and I both hurt ourselves moving our mom. I hope you get the help you need quickly.

I'm so sorry you weren't prepared well for this, Tep. That's awful when you thought you knew what to expect but that was not at all right.

Afterwards I was talking about it in the kitchen with Emmett and Angela (my SiL) and we were laughing about how it made a perfect Grunge era concept album with such hits as "I'm Running Through The Haight With Morphine" and "They Won't Give Me My Bag Of Drugs."

Potential Album title: "Visiting Hours Are Over."

'***LOVE***

Just check that Spaceman 3 didn't already use those titles, I guess

A short stint at rehab would probably give Tim and you the knowledge of how to accomplish the physical tasks. It might only take a visit from a PT person. They are amazing with tips and tricks.

Potential Album title: "Visiting Hours Are Over."

Indeed.

Heated floors are indeed amazing. DH wanted them through the whole first floor, but considering that I really am only here in the summer, the bathroom is enough.

"They Won't Give Me My Bag Of Drugs."

I just figured out that no one outside of our house got their bag of drugs last night because Tim took ALL THE DRUGS. He inadvertently doubled up on his opioids and then 3 hours later took more opioids (basically, he took 10 mg of oxycodone at 1:30 am [correct dose and time], and then 3:30 am [this was the accidental dose], and then again at 6:30 am). So hooray that he's alive after that, but I think that being completely shitfaced on Jack Lang levels of oxycodone was a huge part of why he couldn't muster up the strength or coordination to get himself out of bed. 30 mg of oxycodone in 5 hours is going to make *anyone* lose the ability to move. He's still currently so stoned that he can't muster up an appropriately horrified reaction to the fact that he SUPER roofied himself.

I've sorted out his meds schedule and gotten an appropriate daily pill caddy for them, and we should be able to avoid the Jack Lang Special in the future. And I also think that transferring in and out of bed will be easier when he's not overdosing himself.

Fucking Christ, I am not built for caretaking at all.

Fucking Christ, I am not built for caretaking at all.

And yet you are stepping up and doing what needs to be done as best you can! You are allowed to be frustrated and angry about having to do it, it sucks. I hope that not overmedicating will help

Oh, yeah, that'll sap your ability to move even without back surgery. Good figuring out, Steph.

I hope that not overmedicating will help

I'm remembering when people in college would pass out after drinking too much and/or taking drugs, and trying to turn them so they were lying on their side was like trying to move a 150-pound sandbag, because they were just floppy unresisting weight. I'm pretty sure that's what happened here.

I just asked Tim "With all that oxy in your system, what's your pain level?" He said "Negative 3. It feels like my spine was dipped in honey." Which admittedly sounds awesome.

Yeah. Weird, but kind of sexy, too.

Heh.

Yikes! Well, good that it seems Tim's mobility issues were due to inadvertently being stoned out of his gourd rather than an unexpected complication of the surgery or recovery process.

Let me tell y'all about two more people who deserve Fucking Champ recognition: Matilda's teacher Ms. Stuart, and Jacqueline's previous supervisor Tracy.

Kudos to Ms. Stuart and Tracy!

Congratulations on finding your person, smonster!

I can add a bit of good news—Mom's operation went well yesterday and her doctor is guardedly optimistic that targeted chemo beyond what they did as part of the procedure won't be necessary. He said the cancer was less aggressive than in its initial occurrence. We'll know better in a month at her follow-up appointment, but indications are good. She felt good enough this morning to offer to make my bed for me as I was taking care of it, so hopefully full recovery will be swift.