Lost in Analgesia

That Codeine is great stuff if they give you enough.  It does make you dopey though.

Today I went to Andrea’s farewell lunch at the Katanning recreation centre. She is leaving after eight years service to the Shire.  Will I still be here in eight years I wonder?  I sincerely hope not.  I would be nearly seventy.  I rose early this morning to make something to contribute to the food at the farewell, and having no makings for sausage rolls, tried out cheesy puffs from a recipe shared by Meg instead.  They should have been bacon cheesy puffs but there would be Muslim friends there so I skipped the bacon and added my own touches.  Frankly, on trying the result, though they were ok, I thought they would have benefitted from the bacon.  As it happens Abbey had tried my recipe for sausage rolls, and made a good job of it.

But I digress.

I took my medication this morning with breakfast, and soon reaped the benefit in terms of pain reduction.  According to the label I should not drive “if affected” but I was not THAT affected, I thought, and it is just a two km drive to the rec centre and back. I knew I could manage that.

While out the doctor’s surgery called me to invite me to attend tomorrow and discuss the results of the x-ray and ultrasound scan.  Soon I shall have some form of prognosis I hope.

However, after lunch, I felt the drowsiness of which I had been warned. On my return home after getting even more drowsy while trying to read Clash of Kings I decided I needed a nap so at about 1430 retired with the breathing machine attached to my face and with Tom Waits’ cheesegrater voice singing me to sleep.

Sleep I did, awaking in total confusion at 1800, shoulder aching, and thinking I had missed my medical appointment.  Then I thought it must be morning.  It took a careful look at the clock, a few minutes rational thought and a cup of coffee to sort out when I was.

Addendum: Friday

  • About an hour ago I rang the physiotherapist and left a message on her answerphone.
  • She rang back and told me that she could not understand a word I said.  She was just able to catch my phone number at the end.
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About Alan

Alone in a sea of spinifex.
This entry was posted in Apnoea, Autobiography, Depression, Food and drink, Health and wellness, Humour, Life, don't talk to me about life!, Lifestyle, News and politics, Nightmares, Non-Events, Philosophy, quandaries and Dilemmas, Relationships, torn muscles and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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