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I'm Not Mad Anymore by Ray Printer Friendly

written 11/09/07

I’ve been going to the chiropractor for quite a while now. I was skeptical in the beginning, and only went because several down-to-earth friends and family members recommended it. Honestly, I’m still skeptical, mostly because it doesn’t seem to be helping at all. I go in, fill out my little form that describes my pain—which has been steadily getting worse—and then the doctor takes about ten seconds to pop some bones in my back. He tells me that I’m adjusting very well, and then he reassures me that I’ll have good days and bad days, but I’ll eventually get better.

Today was a good day. Upon on the recommendation of my princess, I scheduled an appointment with a regular doctor. He gave me a prescription for hydrocodone—a narcotic used to kill pain. He told me that there was a good chance that I would be in pain for a long time, and he warned me of the addictiveness of the medication he was prescribing before writing out a prescription that will carry me into next month.

Natural medicine is fine, I suppose, if you don’t really care about feeling better. I say thank goodness for modern science, and the pharmaceuticals that it produces. I took my pill, and within half an hour was able to walk without excruciating pain. I had some lunch and then passed out. I slept for five hours straight—something I haven’t done in almost a month.

So here’s how my day went: I woke up, cleaned the kitchen up a bit, studied a little, and then went to the doctor. My princess took the day off from work for our anniversary, so she went with me. While my prescription was getting filled, we drove over to my campus so I could take a test—I think I did fairly well on it, which was nice—and then we went back and picked up my pills. We came home to discover that the flowers I had ordered had arrived (thanks for the tip, Les). Not only that, but the book we had ordered online—my anniversary present—had also come in.

It’s called The Glacier With Her Name Carved In It And Other Stories by Jeffery Harrell. I’ve mentioned his blog before, because he’s an incredible writer. He talks about Macs and politics a lot—two subjects in which I have zero interest—but he also writes some stuff that I find very interesting, as well as some outstanding short stories. His book is a collection of those stories, and if you’re looking for something to read, I highly recommend buying a copy. It’s a print-on-demand joint, published through Lulu, but don’t let that discourage you. This is some of the best writing I’ve read lately.

Anyway, we went to a bookstore, had some lunch, and then came home and napped. We spent the evening hanging out—doing absolutely nothing, worrying about absolutely nothing—and it was wonderful. Life has a tendency to get out of control, and it’s easy to forget to chill out and enjoy it. If you’re lucky, you get to enjoy it with someone you love.

I bitch and moan a lot, but when you get right down to it, I am a lucky man.


written 11/10/07

Today was even better.



posted 11/11/07


Comments:
Entered By Jesse From Austin
2007-11-13 05:46:56

:-)


Entered By Anonymous From Unknown
2007-11-19 15:38:00

I'm going to give you some advice since I, too recently spent a good deal of time taking Vicodin (Hydrocodone). Bran flakes. Every morning. And every evening, if you can choke em down. Trust me. And lots of water.


Entered By Ray From Austin
2007-11-19 21:06:36

Anonymous--I'm going to have to go with "no fucking way," on this one. It's not that I don't enjoy shitting myself nonstop, it's just that...yeah, I don't enjoy shitting myself nonstop. Nice try, though.



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