10 September, 2009

A Toast To My Health!

Last evening I drank a bottle of Robitussin with dinner. It made a poor accompaniment to lime chicken with broccoli and rice.

Huh. Maybe I should have prefaced that by writing that I'm in a lot of pain -- or, I should write, I'm in more pain than I've become accustomed to since I've been on my current drug regimen. The daily 120 mg of Oxycodone, and more of which my doctor won't prescribe, isn't cutting it, and I won't be able to start on Methadone until I see my discomfited doctor later this month (who prefers her patients to be on Methadone -- and if she prefers it, I truly have every reason to believe that I will too, because she's one of the very few doctors I've seen since being diagnosed with fibro I have a scintilla of respect and trust for/in).

(Sorry for that extremely poorly constructed sentence. ...I use non-union labor.)

I've been told that getting off Oxy and onto Methadone (which doesn't have a catchy shorthand I can use for it -- "Meth" having been taken by... Meth) will involve withdrawal, so I desperately look forward to that. Perhaps this time I'll get simultaneous-shitting and -puking down to an art, or at least a science.

So I drank the Robo (10 mg of DXM and 100 mg Guaifenesin per dose times I don't know), for the DXM, which binds to similar receptors in the brain as opioids and so, I thought, might boost the effects of my Oxy -- or some such thing. I was shocked and awed to find that my pain didn't demand, later last night, that I take the day's last 30 mg of Oxy. However, I did wake up at 7 this morning in pain that made my eyes water for the hour-and-a-half it takes for my 30 mg morning dose of Oxy to kick in.

...Obviously, I'm off to the store sometime this week to get another bottle of the 'Tussin. I'll let you know how further adventures in Roboland turn out, and if it makes a nice mixer for vodka.


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