Tuesday, August 7, 2012

Here's Hoping

I was concerned that the light at the end of the tunnel was actually a train, headed full-on at me, but today, I can honestly say I'm a little better. I took a shower, straightened my hair, put on MAKE UP and real clothes and accompanied my son to the high school to pick up his schedule for senior year. I did NOT have a good night last night, so after I was finally ready to leave the house, I popped an oxycodone just before walking out the door. 

Contrary to what you might think, the pain meds don't make completely loopy every single time I take one. But on an empty stomach, um, yeah, they probably hit me a little hard. My son drove us to the mall (location of the 11/12 center for those of you not in-the-know), hitting every bump and pothole along the way, all the while swearing he was trying to avoid them.  

No reason for this, just know that
 she will be ticked that her brother
was featured and she wasn't.

Once at the high school, and I digress here, but it's worth mentioning, we had ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA where to go or what to do. If my son hadn't run into someone he knew, we would still be standing there. One piece of poster board with, "Go to the cafeteria. Check out your laptop. Go to campus portal and check your schedule. Problems? Go see your counselor. No problems? Go home," would have done the trick.  Yet another case where if only someone had asked me....

We were waiting on a VERY hard wooden bench to see the counselor when my oxycodone hit me square between the eyes. Personally, I thought I carried it off pretty well, although my restlessness led my son to say, "You must be what it's like to have a little kid." 

WHAT pain meds?

We ran a few VERY URGENT errands (new bath pillow and new supply of bubble bath) while I was out of captivity, then home again, home again, jiggity-jig for a two hour soak in the tub and a nap (yes, at the same time - I multi-task).  Here's hoping that light ISN'T a train and that each day is going to be better now. Here's hoping that my son's counselor believed us when we blamed my overly bright-eyed look on my recent surgery and doctor-approved pain relief. And here's hoping that the cheese quesadilla dipped in salsa that I had for supper wasn't a really, really stupid choice.

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