Evagation

Thursday, August 03, 2006

Does anyone else ever wish for a boring life?

It looks like we're on track to close escrow on our house on August 16th. I have managed to pack up twe meager bookcases, and a single closet. Of course, with me, there are extenuating circumstances. Last time we checked in on my life as that sick girl, I'd had a horrible colonoscopy. Well, they'd wanted to schedule my second colonoscopy on August 15th. Which I immediately shot down because I don't need to associate more wonderful things about this house experience with my illness. I'm going back sometime in September. My prep this time is insane but in a good way. The office of nurses kept asking me if I knew what I was getting myself into, and when I told them I certainly did, they said I was crazy. Which is fine since I'd rather not have to endure a third colonoscopy attempt this year (too many flashbacks of when I was nine). I also have strep throat! Yup, I live in the Central Valley of California, so we just got out of our two week long triple-digit heat wave and I have strep throat. Go figure. I just left my internal medicine doc, who also told me I was crazy. Other people might be thinking about calling a shrink but I'm just glad to have the afternoon off. It helped that my doc also told me that, while I did a crazy, crazy thing, my intentions were quite good. You see, I went cold turkey off Vicodin two weeks ago. Yes, I am (apparently) a moron. The first weekend was pure hell and I thought it would be exaggerating to say that I felt like I was dying, but my doc explained that it was probably the truth. He said it's a bit of a miracle that I didn't end up in the emergency room and that I must be able to endure a freakish amount of pain. Which is also true. But my pain meter is out of whack. Doc explained that I'd had a severe addiction, one that most anyone else would only be able to kick in a rehab. I'd been taking a couple thousand milligrams every day for almost two years. During which I also had a prescription for Percocet, so my opiate addiction, and tolerance, was through the roof. Guess that's why most sane people detox in a rehab. Where there are doctors around 24 hours a day. For the past two weeks, the simple act of living was damn near intolerable. I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep, it hurt to move any part of my body, and my head felt like it was imploding. Which is why I'm back on the Vicodin. Doc says that since I don't want to go to a rehab, and that wanting to quit opiate-based pain killers is a fabulous idea, I need to taper myself down until I'm off them. "It's like steroids," Doc said in his quite voice. "You've taken lots of steroids, you know that you can't just stop taking them one day. You have to lower your dose over a period of weeks. Same with your addiction to Vicodin." "You're evil," I replied. Because I am now blissfull. Instead of curbing my addiction, I simply lowered my tolerance so that even this mild dose (for me) makes me want to dance around and sing (well, the strep throat would make singing hard). Although I am determined. I'm on a maintenance dose for three weeks and, after three weeks, I have to call my Doc and tell him if it worked, or if I relapsed. If I relapse, I have to meet with a drug addiction counselor. Which I'd rather not have to do. The only thing that could muck this up for me is the fact that I have way more pills than I need. There was a mix-up at the pharmacy, one that I didn't notice until I got home, and they'd simply refilled my old prescription. Which means I have enough Vicodin for me and two other drug addicts. So, we'll see how this goes. Thankfully I have Devin because he's agreed to watch me like a hawk, and even start tossing out my pills if it looks like I'm relapsing. Thank goddess for over-protective husbands (except when it bugs the shit out of me). Despite all of this medical turmoil (after this rollercoaster year, I don't think there's much that could derail us) we're doing great. We're unbelievably excited about the house. So many family members have offered to buy us some furniture that we won't have enough space for it all. Our little house passed it's termite inspection, and we've already gotten homeowner's insurance. The roof and home inspections have been scheduled, along with the appraisal. I still occasionally check the listing of homes for sale in our area. I'm thrilled to report that the media isn't lying and there is definitely some sort of real estate slump going on, at least in our area. All of the yucky, horribly located homes that were on the market way back in March are still on the market, and nothing new whatsoever is popping up (at least, not in the $200,000 range). I think we bought at a good time. We found a great house and got for $15,000 under it's asking price. Which seems like a damn good deal right now. Now that I'm feeling better (even my throat doesn't hurt as much--aren't opiates fun?) I should probably get some packing done. We've got a lot of work to do.

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