wine by the color

Tuesday, January 02, 2007

So I finally gave in and kicked things up a pharmacological notch last night. Last week, a friend who may or may not be a medical professional decided he'd heard enough about my suffering and shared some pharmaceuticals. I wasn't going to take them, but by 9:30 last night I was in such bad shape I decided it was time to admit defeat.

(Oh, and don't waste your time lecturing me about the inadvisability of taking drugs you haven't actually been prescribed. Unless you've seen me in person sometime in the last three weeks, you can't have any idea how much I've been suffering. Really. Save it for someone who was able to get more than five minutes of sleep during a three-day stretch this weekend.)

Usually, when one takes such a drug, it's a quick route to sleepy-town. Not last night. All because of football. Glorious football.

In a meaningless bowl game between two teams I couldn't give a crap about, despite my narcotic-induced haze, I at one point actually sat up in bed and yelled, "Holy crap!" I have watched a lot of football over the years (hell, I watched almost 10 hours on Sunday and another 10 on Monday) and can't remember a crazier 20 minutes. One of the most insane games I have ever watched, in any sport.

But then I was so wound up I couldn't fall asleep. Then, the drugs started to wear off and my arm started to ache again. But for a few hours, I forgot I had a left arm, let alone one I thought could actually explode due to the pain. I can see how people get addicted to painkillers.

2 Comments:

  • At 1/03/2007 3:34 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Jerseygirl: I think instead of drugs, just keep drinking heavily, it's sort of the same thing.

    Although, I must admit you seem to be feeling now pain at the Jets' tilt.

     
  • At 1/03/2007 5:41 AM, Blogger jersey girl said…

    Oh, it's not the same sort of thing at all. I wish it were. I employed the drinking-heavily approach for the last two weeks of December. Trust me, I gave that a 110% effort before moving on to Plan B.

    Any my giddiness as the Jets wrapped up their unlikely playoff spot lasted about six minutes. Then it was back to the stabbing, shooting pain from my spine to my fingertips.

     

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