Do You Know Who I Am?
So I was reading over at The Discovering Alcoholic about the increased rates of prescription for painkillers in Montana, and I remembered something I'd wanted to write about here.
So this weekend, I had to go to the emergency room because half my face was swollen and nasty and crusty and gross. I had pink eye, and it was a mess...not a painful mess, just an uncomfortable, ugly, unfortunate mess.
The nurse who did the intake asked me to rate my pain on a scale of 0-10. I told her it was about a 2...I was a little uncomfortable, but mostly I was concerned that my eye was festering and I'd hoped to catch the infection before my eyeball rotted out.
So she sent me back into a room, and the doctor came and poked and prodded me a bit before prescribing a dose of antibiotics. As he was walking out the door, he turned back and said, with a half smile, "Want a pain pill?"
I was appalled! HELLS NO I don't want a fucking pain pill. What about 2 on a scale of 0-10 makes you think I want to battle with the demon opiate? In the religion I'm rapidly constructing through scraps of recovery and yoga and vegetarianism, the Grand Dame Demon Of Hell is covered in ex-girlfriend hair and opium poppies...FUCK NO I don't want a pain pill.
And furthermore, how DARE he ask that, with that little shit-eating grin? Does he get kickbacks for every pill script he writes? Does he have any idea what kind of a mess he could be inciting? Say, for instance, that had been my husband in the chair...he'd OF COURSE have needed a pain pill. Desperately, he would have needed one. Granted, he would have been thinking ahead from the beginning, and he would have said "9" for his pain scale measurement...goddamn junky-thinking fool...but really, what the hell was wrong with that doctor? I'm pretty sure that my husband isn't the only person with a problem with opiates, and I bet the doctor has heard of this phenomenon called "addiction" before...
5 comments:
A-FUCKIN-MEN!!!!!!! I just has this happen to me, which almost caused me to relapse!!! What a great post!!
Hot button subject for me. I can go at anytime and get the demon known as Vicodin. That pill nearly cost me my sanity. Now I know that it isn't that pill but you know what I mean. What message does that send? I mean a pain pill for pink eye? That would be like getting a pain pill for a hang nail. Come on. We are way to hooked on pills as a society, but opiates, well, Opiates are "the devil!". (from Waterboy) (I love movies that require no thought, only reaction).
Married to My Ex
I guess its easier for them to just give you a pill tp pop that actually treat you.
Plus they know if you take the pill and like it. Which chances are yuou going to, then they know your going to come back from more and they got you hooked.
There no better then a street level dealer!
a pill? as in one?
ah hahahahahahahahaha.
What a jerk.
Love,
Scout
Oh my, they must not run into as many junkies as the hospitals here. Here you really have to put on a show to get that shot of Morphine and walk with a script of narcotics.
And, Scout, that's friggin funny. I don't ALWAYS have this ability, but for the most part when I am doing well, off the junk, when they ask if I am allergic to anything, my answer is always opiates. They never seem to say much after that.
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