I'm walking a fine line between the simple comfort of home living and a brutal cab ride to the hospital in Virginia. Just a few minutes ago I got up to 101 F. Now, it's no 101.8 F, but at the time we measured that high result, we didn't realize the cutoff to hospital glory was 102 F.
I don't get it. All day we had been doing a fine job of controlling it. So to start combating it, I just popped another Tylenol and put a ton of ice on my bald head. If anyone has any recommendations for keeping the measurement below 102 F, like altering the thermometer (it's electric), I'm all ears.
We all know it's a proven fact that if you have two surgeries on your ankle within four weeks, the second one will always hurt more. As a result, I was given another strong drug in addition to everything else I've been taking since the first surgery last month.
It's called Dilaudid. It's in 4mg doses. I'm pretty sure this dosage could kill a horse. It does an excellent job at killing pain and making it difficult to breathe. It does an even better job at making you sound and look like an idiot.
Since I already sound and look like an idiot, you can imagine how much fun my family has when they're around me these days.
You may have read earlier about the consequences of opiates. Guess what happens when you add yet another, stronger pain medicine. You turn one of the side effects, constipation, into a super side effect.
So I increased my dosage of the constipation medicine and decided to develop some inspiration to overcome my problem, through oral medication only, by taking a closer look at the equipment that scares me to death.
The first line of attack when things get bad will be the Glycerin Suppository. It's a formidable size, being taller than a quarter and wider than a pen. The directions for use are not encouraging. "Insert one suppository well up into rectum and retain for 15 minutes."
Let's assume, for some horrible reason, the suppository fails. A fifteen minute waste of time. The next and final option will be the Fleet's Enema. While the box says it's "Doctor's Number 1 Recommendation," I'd quickly switch doctors if this was ever recommended to me.
I had to take out one of these bad boys too see what I was dealing with. After all, the whole goal here is to scare me straight.
Well, I'm afraid to say that this is just a very bad device. It has some kind of gross stuff on the top. Turns out it's a trademarked system called the, "Pre-lubricated Comfortip." While I'm happy to hear they're concerned about my comfort, I'll tell you right now that by the time anyone is using this -- no one is comfortable. No one.
I took a look at the directions for using their product and about died laughing. There are two recommended positions for using this product.
The left-side position looks awful. While your "arms [are] resting comfortably," you're completely blind. You have no idea what's going on back there. You're coming in completely blind.
The knee-chest position. I'm sorry, this is when I stopped reading the directions. I'm not comfortable with any of this.
You know, it just occurred to me. This is probably what my wife and parents had in mind the whole time when they bought me all of this constipation medicine.
"Take these pills every day or else you'll be forced into the knee-chest position."