no narcotics for you

Why is it that all of my clients have doctors who give out Lortabs and Oxycontins like one gives out M&Ms on Halloween, causing them all to become tragically addicted, at which point their doctors increase their dosage and give them unlimited refills - whereas my doctor, the one time since my C-section that I felt I could really use a little opiate relief, tells me to take two extra-strength Tylenol and two Advil at the same time every six hours.

Whoopee, said I.  It may kill the pain, but it does not provide the sweet sweet oblivion of hydrocodone.

Oh, well. He did give me this neat little Lidocaine mouthwash, which does this funky numbing bit to my whole mouth and throat, which has the added benefit of depressing my appetite, so, if nothing else, I'll at least lose some weight.

That's what I get from having a severe sore throat and swollen glands for seven days - mouth-numbing rinse and over-the-counter drugs. Somehow, I feel ripped off.

The good news is, it's not strep. The bad news is, it's some random, run-of-the-mill viral infection that pretty much has to clear up on its own.

How might I avoid infecting my loved ones, specifically my toddler, with this crud? I ask my doctor, who tells me to avoid letting people eat or drink after me (ewww...as if...), try not to cough on people (again, ewww...) and don't kiss my son.

!!!

But, he's so kissable!

I'm sure he is, says doc, rather patronizingly in my opinion.

Whatever. I'm taking Drew to the grandparents this weekend, and when I come back home on Sunday, Drew will be staying with them for a week.

This is good, and this is not so good.

Good, because maybe he won't catch my virus. Good, because husband and I can have date nights. Good, because I get to do girls-night-out with my friend Nancy, with pedicures! Good, because I'll actually get a little bit of time to myself.

Bad, because I'll miss the hell out of him. I'll call my parents every day, begging them to put him on the phone so I can hear him babble nonsensically. I'll ask them what he ate, if he misses me, how many times he's said "Mama" and how he's sleeping/napping/pooping. I'll expect them to tell me about such things in great detail.

My mom will oblige. She will tell me exactly what time he woke up that day, exactly what he had for breakfast, what he's been doing with his time, how much he misses me and how he seems to be feeling. My dad, on the other hand, will say, "He's doing fine." When pressed for details, he will say, "Good", "No problem" or some other variation thereof, prompting me to sigh in frustration and say, "Just put Mom on the phone already."

Now, it's time for me to go take my Lidocaine/Advil/Tylenol cocktail, so I'll adjourn until later...

Comments

[ebeth]

so how is your week, sans-child?