Okay. What follows was actually kind of alarming. But it isn’t sad. I’m almost done with sad.
(On the topic of being done with sad: today I watched the TiVoed My Name is Earl episodes in which he is in a coma … and they discussed pulling the plug … and Gary screamed like a woman at every hospital / death / coma reference. It was pretty entertaining. Not the episodes, which seemed uneven to me, but Gary’s reactions.)
When Mom was at home, every time I administered a gel patch of that Fentanyl drug I wanted to lick the patch. I wanted to rub it all over my body. I wanted to pull off the latex gloves and “accidentally” get it on my fingers.
The hydrocodone didn’t appeal to me that much (come on, Vicodin? Don’t waste my time), but the oxycodone did. It would seem I turn up my nose at drugs that aren’t Schedule I or II, even if I don’t know it at the time. The Oxyfast droplets arrived the day she was in a coma, and we didn’t even break the seal before she died. I know, because I stared at that bottle most of the day, thinking, “I could break the seal and take some. No, they’d find out. I could break the seal, give Mom some, then take some myself.”
I didn’t do any of those things, of course. Gary says I was just tempted by the danger, like standing on the edge of a cliff. The liquor in the house held no appeal for me, because I know I’d just be a drunk with a dead mom. (Oh, except I inherited half a bottle of blended Scotch Mom got in ’88. Scotch smells too much like Pine-Sol for me, though.) The thing that tempts me most about liquor is the bottles. So pretty! Some of them look like fish, some of them hand grenades, some are blue so you think the Gin inside is blue.
But, the drugs don’t have the packaging. And I don’t even KNOW how these drugs would affect me.
I do know I felt a little twinge when the drugs were flushed. (By the way, drug-flushing will end soon since so many drugs are found in the water supply now.) Being a drunk, no, I can’t see that, but I’m having sympathy for painkiller addicts. It’s a little surprising, especially since I don’t feel any physical pain.
9 responses to “Temptation 2008”
My Name is Early is freakin hilarious. I feel bad laughing at stupid people tho. Two thumbs up on Alyssa Milano!!
Girl, do you know how many life-long friends you could have made with those drugs? But then again, maybe they aren’t the kind of friends you want…As far as the sad goes, my sadness hit when my mom was diagnosed in March 1997. By the time she died in July 1997, the sadness was gone because I realized I would never get from her what I needed and I could never give her what she wanted.
I’m still so sorry. It’s going to be hard for a long while, I think.
When I fell and broke my ankle in two places they gave me Vicodin at the emergency room. The next morning at the doctors office I requested something stronger since I was really bitchy from the pain. My doctor gave me oxycodone and wow…After not keeping the first dose down, the second dose really knocked the pain out. Given how much psychological pain you were feeling, I’m not surprised you felt tempted. Glad to hear you’re healing.
See now, my recreational drugs of choice are the H2-receptor antagonists, stuff like Prilosec OTC and Pepcid AC that allow me to eat all manner of crap and never allows the acid to wash up my esophagus. Those drugs are just kewl. Those scheduled drugs just make me sleepy and constipated.
Well of course you are only interested in the good stuff. You’re the Queen, after all.
#0.5 – The tattoo on her neck would distract me.Becs – I’m so sorry you didn’t have my Mom.TasterSpoon – It’s been so much better. I know it will get worse later, but right now Im relieved.AmyinStL – Hey, I could break my ankle. Wait. Thick ankles. A wrist though, I could break that.Zayrina – Oh, I LOVE constipated! Right up my alley.Sara – This is true. This bottle of Scotch does appear to have a Royal Warrant.
The day after we called hospice, the very day the first nurse arrived to check things out, they sent over a bag of drugs – refills of all of her prescriptions plus a bottle of morphine. Just like that. No questions asked. My sister and I have had some conversations about how weird that is. For one thing, our mother isn’t in pain. For another, how do they know there aren’t drug abusers in the house? Weird.And so far, no one has walked off with the morphine!!
Magpie – I KNOW! You know all those people who “get better in hospice?” I’d be willing to bet they never were sick and they are just faking it for the drugs.