"Patient complains of pain but refuses to take his pain medication." That's probably how the Advice Nurse summarizes our conversation at 5am on Sunday morning when I call in to chat. Hey, it's early, I'm up, newspapers are in front of me, tea is brewing—why not ring up a paid-to-be-sympathetic ear and check whether my symptoms seem worrisome to an expert?
^z status report:
- broken left arm—apparently healing well, but wakes me every couple of hours at night; I move from bed to comfy chair and back, and that change of position seems to help. It doesn't hurt much during the day, and the bruises are starting to fade.
- broken upper-left molar—temporary crown cracked a few days ago, but I'm scheduled to get the permanent crown fitted soon. For now, I'm trying to avoid eating hard foods that might bother the tooth.
- swollen gland—Saturday's minor sore throat precedes the development of a big lump below my right ear at the hinge of the jaw. Infected eustachian tube or lymph node? Advice Nurse suspects the latter, especially since my hearing is fine in that ear. The ache from the nodule is worse than the broken arm.
So on Sunday afternoon as per Advice Nurse's counsel I bite the bullet and try some prescription painkillers; previously I've been a tough hombre and survived without them. Generic Vicodin is great! It lowers my chess rating a few hundred points, based on a test game with Robin. It also knocks out most of the twinginess of the broken arm, though it doesn't affect the aching engorged lymph node much. A dose in the evening lets me sleep fairly well until almost 3am.
As Billy Crudup's character says in the mock-rockumentary movie Almost Famous, perched on a roof and preparing to jump: "I am a golden god! And you can tell Rolling Stone magazine that my last words were ... I'm on drugs!"
But seriously, I've gotta be thankful that things are generally so good for me. Many friends have been going through tough times in recent years; one passed away (leukemia) last month. I'm walking ~20 miles a week, I'm able to nap when tired, I can read and write and talk and listen and think, I've got my sense of humor—so what do I have to gripe about? I don't have any problems!
(cf. NoProblems (2003-11-29), ChicksWithPicks (2007-12-06), Humerus Fracture (2008-10-15), Bend Sinister (2008-10-24), Ugly Arm (2008-10-30), ...) - ^z - 2008-11-10