Okay, I don't think I've written this yet. If so, what can I say; I tend to forget what I've already said and say it again. This is in prelude to today's adventures.
I realized last week that although I've seen R deal with pain a variety of times in her life -- she's prone to ligament injuries, and has done a lot of hiking in her day -- so I know how she handles pain, K has known illness, but not so much pain. In other words, I had no frame of reference for her dealing with pain, and no idea whether she can take pain, how she would handle with it, and so on.
Now I know. Let me repeat, since it's pertinent here, Oy. And vey.
R takes pain like a trooper. K, not so much. I was also reminded of her childhood bouts with taking medicine. At first I thought she was stubborn. (She was stubborn; I didn't make that up.) But if she tried to take medicine with a bad taste, even if she was willing to take it, she would just gag it right up. Pills? Well, she can take little pills.
She went into the oral surgeon's chair at 9:30 this morning; at 10:30 they said she was awake and called me into the little recovery room. She was crying, which didn't surprise me; R too had come out of the wisdom teeth anaesthetic weeping for no reason. It was just some sort of physical chemical reaction. No problem. The doctor then came in and told us how to take care of it, put ice on the swelling, etc., etc., and when you get home, take the prescriptions. Three prescriptions, one for swelling, an antibiotic, and Vicodin for pain.
Mmmmmmm, vicodin.
What the good doctor didn't account for was about three hours of a lockjawed crying person who was whining "I can't take the pills! I can't open my mouth! I can't feel my tongue! I can't swallow!"
Part of me so wanted to tell her to just do it, just take the damn pills and you'll feel better. She needed to take the vicodin before the novocain wore off, but she wouldn't take anything until it did. Shit. Talk about your catch-22. She must metabolize the novocain slowly, like I do.
I sat with her, she was miserable (and I was not much happier) and then finally she worked down a little yogurt and a little water and managed to take the medication. I thought she went to sleep. About twenty minutes later, I turned around from the computer to see how she was (on the couch behind me) and she was IMing with a friend, her laptop on her lap. She saw me, and smiled, and said "Wow. This is great."
Indeed it is. Mother's Little Helper, as it were.
Now, now, I'm not advocating drug abuse. I'm notoriously a non-user of recreational drugs for the last three decades or so. I am, however, a big advocate of taking prescribed drugs as prescribed and when needed.
Since then she's complained a little here and there about soreness, but on the whole, things are fine. Whenever she asks me for something and I bring it, her thanks are profuse. When she's good, she's very good.
In other news, I may be having a diverticulitis attack. Stay tuned.
--------------------------------------------------
I'm watching The Simpsons
--------------------------------------------------
last ::
next
Sweet Sorrow - 06.12.2007
So ... - 12.19.2006
Christmastime Is Near - 12.18.2006
Fifteen Years - 12.17.2006
A Message From Our Sponsor - 12.16.2006
|
