...
They sent me home with Norco 10s and some Narcan... which may have been nice because pain meds don't work on me — not even fentanyl — unless they are of a certain stripe. I'll get all the bad side effects, but little to no pain reduction. So the attempt at harm reduction by itself may have worked better.
Ended up teaching me that Norco 10s are good for extending the pain relief of dilaudid, and fentanyl is good for hallucinating while in terrible pain. If you ever have to call me an ambulance, you should mention that to them. Say, "Bring dilaudid... or morphine. Because aspirin does not cover it." They won't listen.
They'll think I'm a junkie.
It is SO tedious.
It's true that I would become a junkie if I were in that kind of pain again, IF they hadn't fucked everything up and let in the fentanyl. I mean, ever since I smoked ONE drop of fresh poppy juice from a friend's garden, and then spent the most blissful night of absolutely nothing wrong, anywhere on the planet, let alone my life, I'd told myself it would be okay for me to become a heroin addict in my old age.
They just never seem to grok it when I tell them I'm weird. Used to be one could tell these people the truth and they acted accordingly. Not anymore. They don't understand truth. It's as though they still can sense it, but now it pisses them off worse than if it had been a lie.
pipe up any time....
