Monday, June 21, 2010

The Edge Of An Edge

Anytime I stop taking pain meds it goes without sayin' the pain gets worse.
So why am I sayin' it? Well, I needed a place to start and this is a good lead-in to where I'm goin' (as far as I know, that is).

The funny thing is, everytime I begin to take pain meds again I always think it will work better at reducing pain than it does.
It's as if there is some sort of memory lapse in that regard which strikes me as odd.

No pain med takes all the pain away. Okay, there was one period for about two weeks, back when I was on my death bed under hospice care whence, as far as medical science goes, I was expected to die.
Shoot, I expected to die also.
However, contrary to medical science and all appearances to myself and anyone who saw me not only did I not die but I also got better.



Anyhow, when death was imminent I got to take a drug called oxycontin. THAT stuff took all the pain away. Unfortunately, you hafta be goin' through that door from life to death to even have a remote chance of gettin' any of the good stuff from the VA because oxycontin is highly addictive.

Yeah, I know. Doc and I used to laugh about that idiotic policy.
I mean, here I am, terminally ill and Big Brother is worried about me gettin addicted to a pain med that actually works without makin' me drowsy or nauseated.
I didn't even feel high off of it, but I did feel good 'cause there was no pain.
Nope. Can't have that. Apparently, Big Brother feels better knowing I'm in excruciating pain because at least there's no chance I'll get addicted to oxycontin.

Well, as you guys all know, I got better and better, thank God. And very soon after the hospice care ended (and a complaint was filed by a grimmer than normal Grim Reaper) the VA admin pukes told my Doc to stop the oxycontin.



Subsequently, it didn't matter that I didn't go throught any DT's or have any adverse reaction (other than the aforementioned excrutiating pain), proving I wasn't addicted to oxycontin, Big Brother had spoken (thus let it be written, thus let it be done...idiots).

Nor did my past behavior regarding pain meds matter. More often than not I haven't (and don't) take them for any long periods, and only as needed, often stopping for weeks, months, even as much as a few years as a time. Hardly the behavior of a narcotics addict.

But even if I (or anyone else who is terminable) did get addicted to the point where the harm exceeded the benefits, it wouldn't take long for Doc (or any competent doctor) to notice.

The folks who have been clamoring for Obamacare can expect the same (or worse) type of "care."

One thing about govt. bureaurats you can usually count on: they can care less about how much pain you are in, and for the few that do empathise with you they are bound by red tape. And for the even fewer govt. workers who ignore the red tape? You can bet they won't last long.
Besides, how many decent folks do you know who are career bureaurats? They are almost as rare as conservative democrats which are now extinct.

However, there is some good news regardless of (or in spite of) idiotic govt. regulations decided by people who don't give a fig about me or you let alone actually serving us (public service? More like public unions in service of themselves at our expense).

Those thugs can't decide what sort of attitude I'll have. They can't force me to be bitter (like most of them are).
They can't regulate my heart or my spirit. They can never stop me from being thankful for my life, liberty and joy (no matter how much they try to control and diminish it). And they certainly can't prevent me from seeking (and telling) the truth (although they will definitely try).

Lately, I have been taking morphine, and as I mentioned, it doesn't take all my pain away. Not much at all at the low dose I take.
But it does take the edge off, and that's the edge I need.

Be that as it may, EVEN if some political puke (usually of the donkey or ass pursuasion) decides morphine, vicodin, or any other pain med is "too addictive" for me (who can't sue the VA anyhow) I'll still have the edge I need!

Much to their dismay they'll never be able to regulate that edge.
It's as sharp as it's ever been and it'll cut me as quick and as deep as it cuts the scum that try to dull that edge or outlaw it.

Thing is, I seek those cuts, because they make me whole, and they heal, whereas those cuts are like holy water to a vampire for bloodsucking leftists.

Aye, the edge I'm talkin' about is the edge of the Sword of Truth (which has two edges for double the fun). :^)



Saturday, June 12, 2010

Monitor Bruhaha

There I was a few weeks ago, preparing to do what I do when:

Suddenly...I'm not half the man I uused to beee...there's a shadow hangin' ooover meee...

Okay, not really. My monitor started blinkin'. Seriously. Off, on, off, on, off..on..off...on, off....until it blinked it's last blink and kaputed. Monitored for a jest cause.

A moment of silence please.

Ahem. Yes, monitor's untimely death was sad, tragic even. After a time of mourning accompanied by colorful adjectives and an unsuccessful attempt at CPR, "live dammit! Liiive!," but my superhuman efforts to revive monitor were in vain so my lovely wife Patti pronounced the TOD (time of death).

Wow! She looked beautiful, radiant and, well, hot!
I imagined what she would look like in a nurses uniform or doctor smock. This mitigated my grief considerably.

"You want me to wear what?"

Unfortunately, Patti didn't share my desire to mitigate my grief further at that time which added to my grief.

Woe, woe is me. Gonna sing the blues...in silence.

However, Patti did order a new monitor and it arrived today. And it actually works!

Ohhh, what a lucky man he iis.

Jest not THAT lucky. But don't get me wrong, I'm grateful. Thank God we could spring for a new monitor. It's very nice, and I like it.

I'm back in the proverbal saddle again.

Incidently, does anyone know how to photoshop pics? Hypothetically speaking, with a nurses uniform? Hypothetically.