‘How does one get addicted to painkillers? They don’t seem very exciting’. Has always been my go to conviction. (says the guy that used to grind up two ibuprofen with his Red bull most mornings… back when was younger and fighting every day… but that was different..)
All-grown-up Joey took a tramadol probably about three years ago… and since then (if memory serves) maybe a couple of paracetamol. I’d like to say its because I’m hardcore and I’ll gut out the headache or muscle fatigue or whatever, but really, its mostly because I haven’t needed to take anything. Although maybe fifteen years of boxing and grappling has upped my pain tolerance (I’m not sure if that’s actually a thing that can be accrued through punishment)
In any event, this stupid fracture has really humbled me. Initially I was all gung-ho about it, I’m fine! You know when the medical peep asks you to rate your pain on a scale of one to ten. Yeah… lets call it a four. Strap me up and send me home. That first night I can safely say my foot was throbbing along at about a seven… and a half he added after some consideration.
The next day I went and got the prescribed painkillers. And since then things have been awesome. Soooooo awesome in fact that yesterday I decided I didn’t need my clutches (as my daughter calls them) anymore… and while I was still hobbling around… it felt more like a sprained ankle. I even got a sock on! *Joey taps out a jig* Before taking his moon-boot off to drive to work during rush-hour…
I may not see dead people… but I am definitely unbreakable…
4am this morning…
‘Holy hell in a hand basket…’
Okay… I take back everything I said. Of course I’ve been gobbling up the good stuff like candy and now my blister pack of opioid ambrosia is very much diminished. Which is problematic.
Also yes. I am stupid. Or male. (those terms may be interchangeable)