school's back in session

rethinking it

My how things can change in a day or two.

Let's just blame that last post on percocet.

True, manipulation was not pleasant.

But now I can once again move my right arm in almost as many directions as my left arm.

It is still tight, but not painful.

And the reality is that when I woke up on Saturday after taking only one pill on Friday, the pain and discomfort I was feeling was not in my arm at all--it was all over my body, everywhere except for my shoulder. That got my attention. I also had a runny nose. That's when I started to wonder if I was getting a cold.

So rather than swallowing down more percocet, I took advil. And drank water. And a mango pineapple smoothie from McDonald's. After a while, I took more advil. And more water. And a grilled cheese sandwich.

And then we went to the Provo house to work on a couple of last things that still need a bit more work before we'll be done there, but we have two sets of tenants now.

And while working at the Provo house, I sweated and moved. And I thought I might just die in that 100 degree heat.

But that's when I started to feel better. After I finally got all of the serious drugs out of my body.

I have real compassion for people who get hooked on opiates. You start out taking the prescribed amount and it helps you feel better. But after a while, you have so much in your body that you don't feel so great. Then you take more. And you feel worse. And before you know it, you are foggy in the brain and can't figure out what is happening. And you get emotional. And you decide you need to stop taking the drug because you don't want to eat or drink. So you cut back, but then you feel worse. So you're at a point where you have to make a decision--take more or stop taking it. And it's supposed to make you feel better, so shouldn't you take it? And when you don't take it, you feel worse. You get achy all over and you're nauseated and then your nose starts running.

But if you don't take it then, you're lucky that you made that decision. Because you'll feel better the next day. At least that's how it worked for me.

let's be honest

I can't do it anymore. I can't pretend this week has been acceptable or good or even okay.

It has totally sucked.

What was I thinking? Having my shoulder manipulated (and by manipulated I mean popped in three different directions by a doctor in order to break free the cement-like bands that had for some unknown reason formed in said shoulder) yes, manipulated just five days before my birthday because you know, class starts a week after my birthday so if I have the cement broken on that day it will surely have time to heal up before class starts, right, and I totally missed the part about how no, it will not be popped on one day and then be feeling great the next or even the next or next or what, how long does this go on for?

And as much as I appreciate the big ole prescription of percocet the doctor sent home with me, it isn't the answer. I'm thinking he wrote the prescription wrong or the pharmacist filled it wrong or something, but I'm still trying to decide whether it's worse to feel the broken cement bands or feel the nausea that accompanies two percocet every four hours. The newly filled prescription he gave me this week after my followup visit says to take one percocet every eight hours. This seems like a different way to take the drug. I'm just sayin.

And yes, mom, percocet does fall in that family of drugs that affect your bowels and thank you for all of the advice about that nightmare.

Okay. That was probably too much information. Sorry. But the honesty is spilling out and if I try to stop it, it might just kill me.

In my usual attempt to find the good in most events, I can say that it's been nice to find myself surrounded by cats on my bed as I try to rest and they try to comfort me. There is nothing quite as soothing as a purring cat snuggled up against you.

my first facebook birthday

Yesterday was my first facebook birthday. Thank you to all who sent greetings and good wishes via the interwebs.

This year's festivities also included:

1. Sunday dinner (pot roast with roasted potatoes and carrots and gravy, prepared by Jr, attended by all local family)
2. New slippers to replace the three pairs that JoJo chewed up when she was a puppy
3. A warm cup of chai waiting for me when I woke up
4. Two cds (Led Zeppelin and Jefferson Starship) and a book full--FULL--of crossword puzzles from USA Today
5. A delightfully scented candle from Jr's thoughtful friend
6. A whole batch of penuche all for me
7. A phone call and a video chat with the californians


All in all, quite satisfying. Especially if you include the countless doses of percocet that continue to assist with the recovery.

And the rain check for ice cream with Sugar that I'll be collecting on in a day or two.

gold stars all around

One of my biggest concerns about having my shoulder jerked around was who would take care of me afterwards.

I had a clear thought in my mind that Jack and Jr should be the ones to care for me--make sure I had medication on time, and meals--nothing fancy, just quick and reliably provided--and possibly most important, who would keep JoJo from leaping from the doorway onto me on the bed?

I mentioned my concern several times to Jack in the past week.

Guess who came through? Guess who made sure I had food and meds and protection from Jo?

Yes. Jack. Total trooper. Food and prescription and no dog attacks and perhaps most important, a constant supply of the frozen miracle of healing--ice in my icepack.

He deserves a big shiny gold star on his forehead.

Oh and I got my grades for this semester. Three As, one A-, and one B+. So. Big gold star for me too.

if only

I stayed in bed most of the night last night instead of getting up and writing down that amazing post I composed in my head ALL.NIGHT.LONG.

Apparently percocet can keep your brain going for hours. Creatively spinning round and round and totally unable to unwind and go to sleep.

Let's just say that the orthopedic surgeon was right when he said that my shoulder would hurt when I woke up. Sort of what I imagine it would feel like if Mike Tyson and a Budweiser work horse tag-teamed it.

But once again, the compassion of nurses combined with the relief of morphine triumphed, and this morning, I even survived the first of several visits with the physical therapist.

better before i know it

By this time tomorrow, I should be back home, shoulder loosened up, and hopefully doped up enough to be feeling no pain.

That may just be my optimistic nature there. But let's all keep our fingers crossed, right?