Lazy weekend

This morning, Mr. Salted and I had to go out in search of the refill of liquid Demerol. We ended up getting it from the same clinic, but they didn't have enough of it and Mr. Salted has to go back there and get the rest of it after work on Tuesday. I can't believe how hard this stuff is to get; there must be a lot of other people who are allergic to the -codones as I am. Hopefully I won't need it much longer.

I have slept most of the day today. Everyone keeps telling me my body's been through a huge shock and I need to just listen to it and take it easy, so I'm trying to do that. It is hard for me to wear any clothing that touches the incisions, and being in a prone position is the most comfortable place to be. We had a wedding to go to, but Mr. Salted went without me. I knew I couldn't make it through a dressy social situation like a wedding, and I always end up taking lots of pictures, so instead I'm laptopping and watching bad TV.

We went out to lunch at our favorite restaurant. I ordered a deal they have with a cup of soup, a dinner salad and a carrot bran muffin. I ate about 1/4 of it and will probably get two or three more meals out of it. I was afraid the bran muffin would make me sick, but it didn't. (Of course, I only ate a couple of bites of it.) I guess I'm not doing right, eating this stuff when I still should be on puree, but I take small bites and chew very carefully and have had no problems.

I have also discovered the joys of GNC online--they delivered cases of Pure Protein shakes right to my door, flavors you can't usually find in the stores and the price is about the same. Yay!!

Demerol

I am *so* glad to be home. I had sat in my hospital bed for hours with my laptop calling every pharmacy in the known universe, trying to get that !@#$% liquid Demerol, or if you prefer, Demerol elixir. One pharmacy I talked to in a snooty nearby town was a complete joke. I asked if their pharmacy stocked liquid Demerol, and got this guy who spoke barely passable English--I couldn't pin down the accent. He got alllll excited. "That is illegal! I cannot tell you that," he said. "It's a controlled substance and you could be planning to rob us." (Kudos for your customer service, there. I always try to give stores my business when they call me a thief, are you kidding?)You could not even measure how annoyed I was by this whole exchange. I had already called 12 pharmacies at least, I was sitting uncomfortably in a hospital bed, and I just wanted to find where I could fill this prescription so I could go home.

I took a deep breath and tried reasoning with him. "Sir, I am well aware of the HIPAA laws. I am not having Mr.Salted drive all the way to Snootytown to try to fill this prescription on the outside chance you are just playing coy with me and don't really have it." Finally, he spit it out that they did have it. However, the other place who stocked it was closer and their employees didn't sound like they had been huffing spray paint, so I went to the second place. Mr. Paranoia is probably still wigging out from my phone call and wondering why I never showed up. Oddly enough, I don't feel too bad about that.